The word that keeps coming to mind to describe [inadequately] the sensation is "mindfulness" although I am not certain that is what it is. It is definitely a pervading sensation.
The remembered times of my past when I did experience this "state" are few and far between: A few days following my departure from the army back in the fall of '68... then again after my mother died in 1991.. followed by Skip's death 3 months later as Patti and Judy and I drove somewhere, to some restaurant by the water. I felt it again for the 3 days on the road during my journey from Oregon to the farm in 2001 and now once more for the past week but this time is the longest that it has ever stayed with me. It seems to occur when certain intense things are finished.
Patti's sickness and death, my unreconciled loss of her presence (perhaps becoming more reconciled?), the stress of the two memorial services, The anticipated arrival of my daughter whom I had not seen in too many years.. has all come to be experienced and now are all receding into my past.
This indescribable sensation is by no means a bad thing. In fact if I could have my way with it I would keep it close to me. I like it a lot. Perhaps it's nothing more than the "swing of the pendulum".. or a wave of pressure having passed by. Perhaps after seemingly unrelenting stress comes a kind of self-awareness of non-stress, a kind of automatic "letting go" which afterwards gives rise to a place of inner peacefulness.. a kind of "deflation" of pressure where I can actually feel that I belong here in Life, surrounded by all these things of Life.. which clearly includes both my body and thoughts.
I say "my body" and "my thoughts" because with this sensation that I am writing about there is a line between what is Me and those things about me that I claim as mine.
But I am not them. I am not my self during this time of calmness.
I googled the word "mindfulness" and directly came up with this site which sort of describes the sensation, except so far for the week it is not something I have had to work at to attain. It's just there after I wake-up in the morning. (by the way, I have finally begun to sleep the whole the night through, no more waking up at 4:34AM.. the exact time that Patti took her last breath). I think I could better describe it as a kind of free-floating calmness being watched over by a detached Me-ness, if that makes any sense.
If any of you reading this has ever walked around outside in the midst of people and activity while having your brain plugged into an ipod, listening to some favorite tune, you'll know the flavor of what I'm talking about. There is a similarity of detachment from the outside world when you "plug-in" and take a walk thru the world happening all around you. (If you haven't ever done this I highly recommend it).
The difference is that now my self is also a part of that outside world.
bizarre but most pleasant. This could be addictive. ..and it's legal.
I walked to the bookstore today to try to find any book on "mindfulness" to take with me on my upcoming return journey to the farm slated to commence tomorrow morning (thursday morning).
No book on mindfulness appeared to me.. but I did purchase two others that almost hopped into my hands to take them home: Ten Zen Seconds (maisel) and There Are No Accidents (Hopcke). We'll see what they are all about between now and then.
Anyway.. House is cleaned.. laundry finished, bags packed, car nearly packed, and then there is also an urge of not wanting to leave and journey cross-country without my Patti. Maybe I'll keep her seat in the car clear of maps and things just in case she decides to ride along as we always did before.
Guess I'm ready. sort of. Never stop exploring. There's always something, "in here" as well as "out there".
[posted 30 April 2008]
