I find that when I need moments of zen I am drawn to water. I drink it. I want to see, feel and hear the movement of water, so I move to a home on the river, or to one on a bay of an ocean. Water is calming and rejuvenates me.
On one hand, when a moment of zen will not quite appease the current distress and stress levels in my life, I am more likely to be drawn to solid objects like rocks, cliff faces and baseball bats.
For example, after my divorce from my childrens father I was able to preserve a titch of my sanity by beating the crap out of small blue balls on a racquetball court. It seemed ironic somehow. I didn’t really play the game. My goal was to keep 2 balls moving at all times hitting them off any surface in the court except my body. And I hit them hard and fast and ran all over the court to do that. After an hour of court time, I don’t know that any stress was lessened, but I was glistening with sweet sweat and in need of a hot, hot shower.
Running, sports and dance have always been good things to get rid of some tension. I have also been known to fell trees with my bare hands. This isn’t as hard as it may sound when the trees being felled are dead or cottonwood suckers. It did take a lot of physical effort and was entirely satisfying to clear the front yard of an abandoned farmhouse we once lived in.
One thing I did along this vein that I am quite proud of was hand digging a spring. remember that Trevor? The short version is the job took most of a day after I figured out where to dig, did I mention by hand? and required hauling rocks out of what became a frigidly cold pool of water that ran on its merry way eventually. The resultant second degree sunburn I still recall, did not dampen the gratification I felt being able to provide water from God for my family. There’s water again.
But back to rocks and solid objects. Probably the biggest weapon of destruction wielded by me when angry is my 4120 pound Toyota Tundra, because driving fast with the windows down and tunes a bit loud is my most common choice of blowing off steam. The problem here is, it takes a bit to get where I can really drive fast and by then, I’m in construction.
In college I used to ride a bike up the mountain and then climb it. Scrambling over rocks and crevices using hands and feet was a very fulfilling enterprise.
My hope was, if I wrote about things to do, to get rid of stress, it would get rid of my urge to punch someone, scream at the top of my lungs or rip someone ragged on Facebook, which is tantamount to having a loudspeaker to the world. I am still very much out of control inside. I am angry and incensed with good reason.
What I think IS of value and sometimes it does not make a difference anyway. But whether I make a difference or not, does not change the fact, that I have a right to stand up for what is correct, everyday, all day long. If humans and their organizations cannot see that, I can not control it and will let go. It is the attempt to control I will let go of, not what I believe.
So I can stand on this cliff, consider jumping, screaming or throwing things, but in the end, I put pen to paper, kindof, as I am pretty damn sure, you know what this feels like and are thinking, ‘been there. Done that.’ Peace out.