A very nice, unexpected day today. I took a mental health day from work, and since it was so beautiful outside (rainy all yesterday), called up James to see if he wanted to walk in the park. Instead, he suggested heading up the hill to take an hour walk around the neighborhood. I agreed, but with part of me wanting to hang out here, alone, and trying to do something productive. But I thought an hour would be nice.
Turns out he was waiting for Robin, to go to the Herbst Theater for her SF Chamber Orchestra performance. Now, I'm not a great fan of classical, but as we walked around Mt. Davidson, I realized that a day with friends and people would probably be a dose of what I needed. So we got some aerobic goodness in by humping some of the outrageous streets on the Mt., and then climbed up onto the hill itself to get that glorious view over the city and East Bay. Our conversation swirled around video games, technology, future popularization of virtual reality...and architecture.
The latter is often a topic for us, and Mt. Davidson gives a wide swath of small houses to check out, from cute and whimsical pieces, to downright bunker-ish abodes built in the 50's. We talked about how almost no building is beyond redemption, but that each structure must be related to in it's original integrity, even if that is the integrity of a slap-dash physical expression of despair and depression (I was describing a house Heather and I saw off the highway, in Vacaville). And I was noting what I've often thought, even with the worst structures, that with a bit of attention and love, flat, sad structures can be vitalized and brought back into the social fold.
Then we took off for the concert, and got to wander backstage with the violin diva (aka, Robin), en route to our seats. The house was packed; the Orchestra offers all its shows for free, but this was even fuller than they expected. So the band tore it up for a couple hours, and Robin was the soloist for the second half. I liked the Mozart more than the Mendelssohn, which seemed a bit like lite jazz. But I'm a philistine at this stuff, made even more pronounced by the unread copy of "Classical Music for Dummies" that sits on my shelf.
Afterwards, we went for dinner at Max's, with the conductor and a conductor from Napa, and they talked a lot of shop. Which was fine, though I thought I must have come off as rather spacey or irked. Neither was true. Actually, what was catching my attention was the presence of what Adyashanti points to as "that which is looking through our eyes," which I seemed to see in Benjamin the other day. I was noting how it was there in each person at the table, but was trying to understand the difference in tone, seemingly between this shared "presence," and the relatives of each person's persona/ego. It seemed to come down to how much people were aware of that presence from the stance of their persona. But the presence itself was not colored by the persona; in fact, it seemed as if the persona was made almost gossamer to the presence. It didn't disappear or get contradicted or denied--just turned transparent, like a hologram.
Then we drove home and hung out with B-Dude a bit before he headed off for a fitful sleep. And to cap the night, the three of us fell into a spontaneous couples therapy session, in which I was a little surprised at how James and Robin went for it and actually allowed themselves to go into the nub of the issue. Then we talked about trauma and EMDR, and I gabbed excitedly about therapy and healing. At the end of the day, all the strains and stresses of this work and doing a private practice, I really do love this profession.
And getting home, an adult decision presents itself, and again I'm struck by what an illuminating question is, "What is the most adult thing to do in this situation." Partially because of the information it gives, and partially because it points to the nature of adulthood.
When I really surrender to the question, the answer is, "Whatever is most integrated." So instead of doing nothing, or playing a video game, I cleaned the kitchen, and then sat down to check email and write this report on the day, in order to feel more integrated and cleared out. And the result is that I do feel more cleared out, which itself is a feeling of being open to the through-put of my life.
