A morning walk in the 'burbs.

Yes, I finally got an iPhone and I'm taking "vintage" pictures just like everyone else.  Everyone does it because it's cool.  So now I'm cool too.
Anyway, let's get on with it.

I took my dog, Napoleon, for a walk this morning and it was cold and the sun was bright and yellow and the air stung as it passed into my lungs and I really enjoyed all of it.  What I enjoy most about taking walks is the solitude and the time to daydream.

This last year I read a book with the goal of developing some coping mechanisms for dealing with life's hard-to-deal-with moments.  The book is called "Quiet Your Mind", written by John Selby and I highly recommend  it for anyone whom, like myself, somehow managed to make it to adulthood without any coping skills.

The book lays down a series of exercises which anyone can do to stop the constant murmur of thoughts and worries from polluting their happiness.  This was a problem I was having, and am still working on.  Now, there's some advice in the book that I was reluctant to accept.  See, when I go for a walk, or when anyone who fancies themselves a writer or a creative person of any sort goes for a walk, bike ride, kayak or whatever, we tend to take advantage of the peace and do some thinking, brainstorming, internal monologuing or what-have-you.  Selby, over there, tells you to turn off any chatty part of your brain while doing any of these activities and just experience the moments as they drift through you and let your physical senses relish in the now without the cumbersome intrusion of conscious thought.  I was against the idea right away because I have some of my best ideas on walks, who doesn't?  Then, this morning I finally understood what Selby was trying to get through to me.

The relinquishment of all thought is not the goal here.  Rather, it is the controlled decision of what thoughts to have and the discernment between beneficial and detrimental thought.  I always find myself, during my walks, pinballing back and forth between Selby's method of physical, open experience and my own brand of neurotic, baseless worry.  This morning was no different but it was a stunningly beautiful morning and so I relinquished all thought as often as I could and had my eyes raised to the point directly ahead of me and focused only on what sound entered my ears and what sights entered my field of vision.  Brain off.

The sun was low over the rooftops ahead, and on the right drew close a roofer's truck blaring "Barbara Ann" from an open door.  Ice crystals flitted across the lone ray of sun rising from the center of my field of view and   "Barbara Ann" decreased in pitch and then rose again as I passed the truck and then faded away behind me.

It was a simple moment but one that filled me with a great positive wonder.  It felt so filmic, so literary, the sort of moment you bask in if it's on screen or in a book but it wasn't, it is life right now.  I knew right away that if I had been enraptured in one of my regular day-dreamy thought cycles I would have missed the moment entirely.  So that's what it took to get me to understand the benefit of Selby's technique and how keeping a clear mind and remaining physically open to your surroundings can lead to more inspiration and more to life than walking around in a critical mode or lost in supposedly creative thinking.

So now that I'm part of the smartphone crowd, I at least have this moment to remind me of what there is to miss if I (heaven forbid) find myself walking, nose down, eyes planted in that glossy little screen, thinking how great life is because I have a neat phone.