It is Sunday morning. My living status is still precarious, in a variety of dimensions. At least I have my health. It is finally sunny in Northern California. The faithful mission group is feeding the homeless in the park across from City Hall; three men, one in a motorized wheelchair, are having an animated discussion on the corner across the street next to the Christian Science Reading Room.
I am sipping coffee (the good stuff) at a local chain coffee house/roaster company and I had intended to listen to the last hour of the NPR Sunday morning radio show. NPR’s news is about all I can tolerate these days. But this morning, in a moment of clarity, I realize I had absolutely no interest in, tolerance of, and stomach for compassionately dispassionate neutrality. I was starting to have uncharitable thoughts about the staunchly politically conservative doctor who wanted her state to accept the Obama Care (I so hate this term) Medi-Caid expansion funds. I had previously entertained uncharitable thoughts for another self-described conservative who was a staunch advocate for solar energy.
I was not liking that I was still feeling this way about people that if I saw them in person, I would smile at politely knowing that they would see me as something other, possibly, because that’s what I am. In other words, the news was causing me to feel bad about myself and about others.
Definitely not a fun feeling on a Sunday morning.
Clearly this is the reason that people go to church, or as in my case: turn off the news.
So, what did I do? I found a music service and I am now listening to something classical piano, enjoying the sun, missing my cats and sipping really good coffee. By the way it has a fruity berryish thing going on.
The news will wait. At the moment I am Qui-Gon Jinn meditating while enclosed between two force fields while his Sith nemesis Darth Maul waits seething on the other side of the force field, frustrated by this pause in their mano-a-mano to the death light saber duel.
Sometimes the best way to be in the moment, is to step outside of the damned thing, if only for, well, a moment.