Here, There and Everywhere

I understand the concept of living "in the moment," and yes, there's a lot to be said for it. However, there are also times to revisit the past and skip forward to the future. Sometimes the last thing you want or need is to "be here now." When you're having a blood test or getting an injection, for example. Excellent time to leave the scene, mentally. Come back when it's over.

If we're always here now, isn't that like driving down the freeway and never looking in the rearview mirror, or checking out what lies ahead of you to anticipate and avoid whatever? I believe it's about balance. Look around you, Grasshopper, to see the sights, take in the smells, and get the feel of here now, but occasionally shift your focus so that you can (a) learn from the past in order to avoid repeating mistakes OR to draw upon an experience that is enriching; and (b) project into the future to (a) create an image of how you hope your life will be (remember it's written in the Bible that where there is no vision, the people perish) OR to consider options and make informed choices in advance. This is called being organized.

I leave for Alaska in 25 days. I'm pleased to say I've been there before (with Frank), so remembering my past trips makes me very happy, and anticipating the upcoming trip (with my daughter-in-law) excites me and motivates me to make calls, send e-mails, etc., to put our itinerary in order. (When I talk to someone on the phone who is in Alaska, I mentally travel there, which is a lot more fun that sitting at my desk.)

I've also calendared every Jennifer Lind / New Christy Minstrels performance I can get to through the end of the year, I'm expecting another granddaughter early September, I'm jazzed about a Horse Trail Trial ride I'm doing in October, and in November I'll be in Hawaii with my son who's turning 50, along with some other family members. The idea is to have things TO look forward to! A monk in a monestary is ensconced in routine, with every day being virtually the same as the one before it. Nice place to visit but wouldn't want to live there. In my world I want to skip around in time. And eat meat.

I feel very, very sad for the cows, chickens, sheep, etc. But I also feel bad when I pick a zucchini from my garden, bring it in, cut it up, put it in a salad or a frying pan, then eat it. Perhaps it isn't a "sentient being," but do we know that for sure? I mean, vegetation may have its own standard for setting the value of life. I think we have to ask, "What is the purpose of a cow? A Zucchini?" Maybe when we consume them for energy, we are helping them fulfill their destiny? Perhaps the best we can do is to maintain an attitude of appreciation and reverence. A little sensitivity...

On my way out to Brandi's pasture at the ranch I pass an old white horse named Isabella, who is literally skin and bone, dying of cancer. It just breaks my heart. I always glance that way to see if she's still there, knowing one day she won't be. Sometimes I stop and give her a carrot. Frank reminds me that in the wild, she would have been long gone. Food for the wolves. It isn't always a pretty world...

BUT! ALASKA IS BEAUTIFUL! This is me bringing myself back UP! See how it works? Looking back, looking ahead, visiting another place in our minds -- I believe we've been given this ability for a reason. And I'm here now making it a point to focus on the plans I just made to zipline in Skagway, for example, rather than dwelling on the fact that I'll be away from Frank for 14 days. Oooops.

ALASKA IS BEAUTIFUL. That's me, bringing myself up again.