Flight Into Reality

Nothing will work unless you do. - Maya Angelou in the Zen Calendar (March 19, 2007).

Day 300. Three-Oh-Oh. Three Hundred. THREE HUNDRED DAYS OF BLOGGING AND SITTING!! Woooo-Hoooo! Forget fractions and decimals thereof. This is a honkin' significant day for the ole blog. Sixty-five days left to go (of the blog, that is. I imagine I will sit for the remainder of my life -- however long that turns out to be). It feels like mile 21 in a marathon: there is a whole lot of mileage behind me, but a fair sized distance left to tread. I think I am up for it. Life feels manageable when you take it one breath at a time.

My Preferred Version of Reality on the day of my 300th Blog is that I produce a spectacular, memorable, red-letter, eye-opener of a masterpiece post. The Big R, however, is that I had an extraordinarily busy day, and another one is in the chute for tomorrow, chomping at the bit. So, that's that. If there is a singular truth this year has taught me, it is that the Big R prevails. Succumb to it. Accept it. Vast quantities of energy will be saved.

My favorite professor during my undergraduate years was Dr. McCormick. He taught all the juicy classes like physiological psychology, abnormal psych, and clinical psych. One day in abnormal psychology class, we were discussing the meaning of a "psychotic break" and Dr. McCormick explained what a "flight into fantasy" is. It essentially means that a person takes a temporary or permanent break from reality and dwells, instead, within a fantasy world of their own making. This was interesting enough, but the lecture really caught my attention when my professor contrasted flight into fantasy with what he termed a "flight into reality." He used grad students as an example, noting that they often become so caught up in their legitimate focus on deadlines, grades, thesis, practicum requirements, and graduate school responsibilities that they cease to feel emotion or participate in relationships. Life becomes rigid and robotic. Dr. McCormick, in his infinite wisdom, pointed out that a flight into reality is seldom characterized as pathological because our society sanctions focused productivity. Even if it occurs at the expense of feeling emotion.

When weeks come around with requirements like the one I've just begun, it feels like I am holding a First Class ticket for a Flight into Reality. In fact, I probably qualify as a Frequent Flyer in this exclusive club. The week boasts thrilling, adventure packed itinerary items including: new tires, brakes and alignment for the Xterra; towing the son-mobile to a mechanic, stopping by the tag agency, servicing the furnace, calling medical offices to deal with the September concussion expenses, a major conference presentation, and (perish the thought) some effort toward the secular aspect of this holiday season in which my son insists on participating. All this, before the usual agenda of working long days, training on the bike, and - oh yeah! Blogging and Sitting. Three. . .Two. . .One. . .We have liftoff! My flight into reality just left the stratosphere.

In contrast, there exists another sort of flight into Reality. Its launching pad consists of a sofa cushion on a folded blanket in a corner of my bedroom. The beauty of this flight lies in its inclusion of both worldly demands and the interior experience of emotion. Since it precludes dualism, there is room for both. Big Mind holds the total experience of being alive. I can participate in my daily requirements with clear headed, focused attention while remaining mindful of my feeling states and relational needs. And loving kindness permeates it all.

Come aboard. You don't even need a ticket.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc