2008-09-09-0713 I'm writing--don't feel like walking right away, walked till 830 or 930 last night in the halfmoonlight along a narrow, unstriped, paved, dead-end road, deserted but for a few cows.
What the story of the cows is I'm curious--I can't imagine how they're all rounded up, and maybe they are free cows. There seems to be an odd one or small group nearly every where making trails, leaving cowpies.
The two bushwhacks yesterday went ok, and there are no more coming up that I can see--a relief. I fear encountering impenetrable brush and cliffs. Haven't seen any poison oak for two days now (>5000'). I felt not-at-ease yesterday evening until I made it from the closed-to-public-travel OHV road to Landslide Grove up to this paved road here upon which a car may travel at least once or so per day (zero so far).
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Ambiguity: been thinking more about ambiguity avoidance as a reason why I/we do or keep doing many things.
A basic ambiguity many of us deal with is: what should I do with my attention? An existential issue.
My itching poison oak/urishol(?) rash--sometimes my attention has been focused on itching. Interesting it is how attention can move from one patch to another, only one patch asking for attention at a time. But at some point I consider that I'm scratching a patch because it feels good, sort of, and because I don't have anything more compelling to do at the moment.
I see a similar action in eating, reading, walking, and what else?-- I continue doing these things because a compelling reason to stop has not occurred to me yet, and were I to stop, I'd have to wonder what to do next.
There is also the idea of letting something run its course. I don't want to walk just yet, but after feeling some completion writing here, I probably will. If I had nothing to write, I bet I'd read a while, then walk. Or sew a while.
Last night I played a bit with staying in ambiguity as a sort of meditation or stilling technique. Instead of using a positive instruction such as, "focus on breathing as felt near the belly" or "cycle attention through body parts, never lingering", I would note any seeking of attention/mind for something to do, and rather than allowing the action (scratching, eating peanut butter), would attempt to hold attention in an unfocused, un-acted-upon state until I tired of that or until something too compelling came along (I need to piss).
So, does this leave me with any great breakthroughs in self-management for more fulfilling living?
By now I have eaten all my 16.3 oz of peanut butter, and were it in the small ~3oz packets I got at Muir Trail Ranch, I probably would still have three packets left.
I may not have scratched as much--not by attempting to resist the temptation, but by noting that the mind is just trying to avoid the ambiguity of having nothing to do--laying in the dark, not too sleepy, not wanting to read--and deciding to attempt to prolong the situation of attention having no focus.
Possibly I can develop the practice of checking in while eating, reading, scratching, walking, writing, talking: am I avoiding ambiguity, or does my continuing this action serve in some way?
Who knows.
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Last, I had a wonderful dream. The location was San Diego, but no SD I know--it would perhaps be on a back street of one of the more dense, walkable areas.
I came across a massive exercise or performance of "streets renaissance"/bike happening type activity, though bikes were but a minor part. A marching band or multiple armies of bands were all converging toward one highschool-type building. I was near only one group of dancers/musicians/costumed performers, but had the impression of far more. This was daytime. A huge part of the converging effect was due to wires, really only one set, perhaps, of seven or so parallel wires strung overhead from somewhere angling downhill toward the campus--and down these wires rolled people whose heads and outstretched arms wore airplane costumes.
It seemed to be a rehearsal, and during a pause I was able to praise or ask a question of a nearby director, a beaming young woman. She was joyful with my amazement and eventually I found my way into the campus of what I found to be a performing arts school. I had my little camera and took some pictures of the fantastic scenes.
One was of a musical performance/ rehearsal, a roman toga type guy singing (well, with great presence) in reaction to something (others of similar costume were nearby) in a hallway I happened to walk along.
One was of a cafe, victorian style, with costumed customers, next to a merry-go-round, with costumed riders.
Another happening later: as I walked away I approached a street crossing where at least two students were playing drunk bums in makeup and costume, crossing, or not really crossing the street.
What kind of school was this? Seems more like a collaborative workshop for practice of massive public performance art.
Well, what a vision, and another dream to wonder at where the sleep-mind comes up with these sets and scenarios resembling nothing, perhaps only new combinations of elements?, known in my life.
0854
Peace,
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