Here I am again. Ensconced on the couch. It is sunny and looks a little breezy and I am full of tacos. But it is a perfectly fine way to spend the second of my two days off. I wonder if others look at their "weekends" this way? Probably not. Straight from the old contract. "Second of two days off."
Hoping I can get the motivation to pry myself up and take a ride. Oil freshly changed, chain freshly lubed and even the chain guard freshly cleaned of its accumulated gunk. That is how I spent much of my productive time yesterday (first of my two days off). It's not rocket science, but more of a meditation, I find. It's the journey, not the destination. The slow journey. I need some more stuff to make it a little less goopy on the cement outside the garage. If I could just get a few more weeds to grow into the cracks, I could always park it over them and they would catch the drippage. 'Course they also might catch fire after all that, which would be a sight indeed: a motorcycle over a hot weed fire. Not so very nice. Another perfectly good idea gone into the dumper.
This touches on the subject of "the small things in life." The "being" part (versus the "human doing", as someone said). I've been concentrating on the merits of this idea for quite a while now, as it has always suited me, but I have struggled against it for a great many years. Less stress with the "being." This translates: whatever seems good to be doing or not doing at a given moment is fine. Enjoying it? Valhalla. The should's and could's and what-not are immaterial. It's not a perfect system, of course. Ya gotta do certain things eventually. It's just that the list of "things" gets remarkably smaller and less important. Like all those appalling emails that seem to be so popular amongst older folks (65+...creeping closer and closer) that exhort one to "dust less, enjoy life more!" These are the very people, I think, that have spent most of their lives doing all those other things that "had" to be done: cleaning, fixing, straightening, doing all the kid-related stuff, appointments, and on. Especially the former: cleaning. Not like your regular cleaning, from what I have surmised, btw, but the kind that used to be the norm for your garden variety housewife of 40 years ago.
I guess if it had been me, I'd have been the recalcitrant, smoking, diazepam-taking, crabby wife whose house didn't quite make the grade, as judged by "the other wives." I never did chew all the way through the "Feminine Mystique," but the pages I did get through gave me the idea vividly enough. Not hard to figure out where the mystique came from: boredom and dying life aspirations. "What are they THINKING and what do they really WANT??" Uh, I'd like some real mental stimulation and a whole adult life. No mystery there. Unless you figured women were not really human beings in the same mental sense. I happen to know someone whose life was shaped by that bifurcated social reality. I lucked out, I suppose, between the era and my childhood. Choosing between the abundant possibilities was the more pressing concern to me. Not that it wasn't also clear that there were still "limitations," societally speaking, like funding for school sports and and who was asked to move tables and who was not (e.g. physical abilities). That would be a long diatribe whose time is gone I think.
As usual, time marches on and so does "progress." At least in that area a bit. The possibilities open more each day, I think. But, it is really what the individual conceives for herself, isn't it? That is my strong suit, though I have scaled things down a bit, just out of laziness. Laziness is a luxury, I've come to realize. This sitting on the couch stuff and pondering the stories of the day, the things I might buy to help me on my way, the discussions over motorcycle projects & plans, or just inane banter, the communication with others in email and Facebook and even a dumb game or two (yes, you, Mafia Wars).
Where is the sunshine in all this? It's not only out there, right where I can see it, through the picture window, but also as a state of mind. And that's a good way to wrap up this post.
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