I feel a bit guilty about shopping online, vaguely uneasy about acquiring anything that isn’t strictly necessary, since I think this reflects an underlying idea that some object is going to increase my happiness, and also aware that fossil fuels must be burned to ship the thing across the country to me (not to mention manufacture it to begin with).
However, I’m not sure the energy cost would be any less if I just walked to a nearby store. The energy cost of getting the book to the bookstore is probably similar to that of getting it to me at work, since it probably doesn’t arrive in a truck all by itself, but grouped with stuff other people have ordered.
In the lobby I found a courier with a long rectangular box, not likely a safety vest or a book. “What on earth is that?” I asked. The courier said it appeared to be flowers.
“Flowers?! No one ever sent me flowers in my whole life.”
Not only was it flowers, it was a dozen beautiful roses—red, white, yellow, pink—with a cushion of packing material nestled near the stems. The flowers, along with a very sweet card, were a gift from Lisa and David, to thank me for helping them right before their move.
I put the flowers in a vase I keep at work and then looked at the packing material to see whether to toss it out or recycle it. It turned out it was the kind of packing material that says “Godiva Chocolatier” on it. A dozen roses and a box of truffles! What an incredibly kind and generous gift! I felt extravagantly cared for.
My SkyScan clocks arrived recently, two little travel alarm clocks that, if they are able to get a signal from Fort Collins, set themselves to the correct time periodically. The instructions sent with these items are particularly poor—they imply both that you don’t need to do anything for the clock to set itself correctly for the first time, and that you do need to do something.
I was so irritated I felt like taking the batteries back out and flushing the hapless little clocks down the toilet. This is why I can never buy a new computer—I can’t tolerate that level of frustration.
At first it seemed neither clock would pick up a signal, but then one did, and then both did, which is kind of thrilling. I assumed that when both clocks got the signal, they would be set to the exact same second, but they are actually one second apart, which I suppose is close enough.
I’m back to meditating for an hour most days, with a simpler practice than before. After a very brief introduction, I focus on the sensations of my breath, mainly the outbreath, because too much focus on the inbreath can produce a headache very rapidly; it tends to lead to a subtle amount of straining in order to heighten the sensations. In the space between the outbreath and the inbreath, I just notice a general feeling of peace.
The introduction is to notice any sounds that may be present in the room, then any sounds coming from outside, and then to get the general feel of my body and to notice four “touch points”: lips touching each other, hands touching the tops of my thighs, butt touching the cushion (a pile of sweatshirts), feet touching the floor. That probably takes less than one minute.
I cheat in one major way, which is that if Hammett comes over, I pick him up and hold him. I call that the “love meditation” portion of the program.
For a while, I was sitting for only six minutes most days, but noticed, as always, that I was getting stressed out very easily. Sitting more is essential if I want to feel calm. It has a good effect on my entire life. I think of it as a gift to those around me, too. It makes it so much easier to pause and consider whether I really need to say or do whatever has popped into my mind.
I’m reading Everything Arises, Everything Falls Away: Teachings on Impermanence and the End of Suffering, by Ajahn Chah.
Every morning I read the day’s entries from the Al-Anon book Hope for Today (modern, and geared toward children of alcoholics) and from One Day at a Time in Al-Anon (old-fashioned, and geared toward wives of alcoholics).
The latter has a fine no-nonsense tone and basically one message: Mind your own business. That is, don’t worry about what other people are doing and definitely don’t criticize them or try to make them feel bad. Put your focus on improving your own life.
Every morning I also read one mini-essay from Pema Chodron’s book Comfortable with Uncertainty, which is made up of writings from her other books. All of her books that I’ve read are excellent.
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