It's absolutely disgusting outside today. I had to walk up my very steep hill to the bus in the rain and then wait on the side of the highway until it arrived, and I'm quite pleased to say it actually arrived on time today. Even though my iPod is broken, and that is usually my glued to my ears during my commute to class, I tried to make the best of the situation by putting on my raincoat, pulling on my rainboots, bringing my umbrella, and carrying a cup of coffee in my hand. It was a lot of juggling, but the only way I would survive without ending up in a cranky mood. After the walk, I discovered I was ten minutes early to my bus stop, so I stood and watched the cars go by, as I do every time I take this particular commute.
Before my iPod broke, I was listening to The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle audiobook, and one concept in particular so far has resonated with me. He says the best way to release tension and anxiety is to treat the present with as much care as you treat your future. He doesn't say it in those words exactly, but he says by practicing mindfulness, you can turn everyday things into a meditation. Without even trying, I began thinking about these things quite often.
My wait for the bus has become a sort of meditation. I try to only think about what's going on at that moment in time. Today it was the sound of cars and trucks whizzing by on wet pavement, the chill, damp air, and how refreshing it was to simply feel that air on my face and not be annoyed about the fact that it is rainy and wet outside today, and that I had to walk through it. Once I sit on the bus, I usually will listen to music, or not, and simply watch the cars and very hideous new jersey scenery go by. I would prefer to be looking at an ocean or snow capped mountains, but I take what I can get.
Waiting for the bus today, it occured to me that the exact situation I was in at that very moment was something that would be very effective in some sort of indie movie. In my black raincoat and black rainboots and breathing out clouds into the cold air, this sort of bleak scenery with the protagonist lost in thought is not uncommon in those films. The one exception, I thought, is that it was not a cigarette I was holding, but a cup of coffee. My drug of choice. I definitely laughed to myself about this. I tend to talk out loud to myself quite a lot, too. I'm told its relatively normal.
This is all well and good, but holy moly I am dying for some sunshine and warmer temperatures.