Showing posts with label settling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label settling. Show all posts

Saturday, June 1, 2013

No Passengers

               In Robert Pirsig’s book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a father and his son begin a long motorcycle journey accompanied by a married couple. Part of the story involves the father trying to re-establish his relationship with his pre-teen son. As the story evolves he cannot understand why his son does feel the same experiences he is as they ride. Towards the end he realizes that his son, riding as a passenger on the motorcycle, can turn his head to the right and left, but to look forward, the natural position, he sees only his father’s back and head. He is shielded from the wind, the experience and from sight. His father has him stand on the pedals as they ride. Unshielded and standing, the son becomes the experience, the ride and alive.
               Sometimes the situations of life call for us to be like the bow of a ship and plow head long into the experience, like the driver of a motorcycle. We absorb the wind and the force. We also become the experience, and we change the direction of the wind, we are the wind moving. Unlike the TV screen windows of a car, we plow through the waves or ride the motorcycle as nature, force and power, no longer casual remote viewers watching all pass us by.
               Other times the situation or others drive. We hold on and can only turn our heads to the right or left and we cannot see what is before us. We become as remote and detached as a viewer of TV. And yet, Life offers pedals. We can stand and become the experience. We can stand unshielded, even as a passenger not driving or controlling the situation. We can rise and stand. We can withstand. We can see. No longer remote we know what it is to feel and see. The experience is ours. As is the choice.

There are no passengers in Life. We have only chosen not to stand on the pedals. 

Monday, July 30, 2012

Party of Four

My tremor hand was holding a rock. The feel of a rock heated by the sun permeating my palm is ever so calming. My eyes were dancing  from the ground, as she teased and grabbed my dragging, leg to the mountains.  Scanning the path for treasured feathers. If anyone has read but a few of these scriches, you know how treasured gifted feathers are to me.


A shadow cast over my body, and looking up I saw the graceful flight, not even a flap of the wings. One was joined by two and then two were joined by a third. They circled their glide over me, dropping down so I could see them close.


  My heart is filled with gratitude for those feathers gifted to me.  But as I watched the three soar, just above me, how often I keep my eyes looking down, settling for the most immediate, the things I can grasp. And I could not help but think the greatest feather, the most lasting treasure, remains, always, forever in flight. The giver waits, whole and in flight. Somehow, at that moment, with a dragging leg, the three were joined by a fourth.


“You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.

Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.

Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.

Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.

Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.” 
― John O'Donohue