Reeating Figs

07-10-23 7:38
Getting into writing:
Summary of the day:
Mindlessness:
Mindfulness:
Insights:

Those could be my headings. It would be nice to write what others might read.

GETTING INTO WRITING::

I could see the fires from here. So I left to eat figs.

After climbing on the roof to get a better look. To the east.

"This is more than I bargiained for--"

Fortunately or not for me the wind is blowing more from the north.

--
SUMMARY OF THE DAY:

I messed around a bit much on the computer, but did leave, and went to swim, but pool was closed because of poor air quality. Also, the space could be used as a shelter.

I went to the iceplant and lay there. Then I read literature collected on my walking trip: an intro to vegetarianism by PETA, a guide to the San Diego green built tour, an intro to Self-Realization Fellowship.

I moved to the park under the tree, and sat and finished reading that.

I went back to the Kroc Center and lifted weights. That was a good thing--unsure, uncertain, not a part of habit.

My habit is to swim, then lift.

I may, finally, be returning to my habit of lifting nearly every day, regardless. . . today will be another test of that.

Then I went home. Ate some soaked grain, read paper. Moved to garden to finish that (inside was a bad scene).

And lay there, in a different spot than I usually am, enjoying being there, enjoying re-eating figs and grains. (what happens when I'm full/overfull)

Eventually I did some cleaning up of brush.

Then I went to visit my friend. We walked for a good while.

I came back here. I had to defend my doing nothing to Grandma Ann. Then I went to bed around 830 or so, tired.

Slept, with interesting dreams, outside.

Got up, saw fires, ate figs.

Now here.

7:51

Someone did call to invite me to dinner. Gann told him I would not be back till late. I'll call him back today.

MINDLESSNESS:
Writing this in the morning is somewhat more mindless. It lets me go comatose into sleep.

To have no intentions.

I did not sit a lot yesterday.

Eating figs, reading paper, eating grains, lingering eating paper (reading paper) was a bit mindless.

Time with friend, I'm not always sure where to put that.

Sleep, without intention?

MINDFULNESS:

Lifting. Some reading. Enjoying being here in garden, after finishing paper. Watching wind blow.

Sleeping, dreaming.


INSIGHTS:

On how writing in morning is letting myself slide a bit. Writing at night helps set intention before sleeping.

8:03 I don't have an intention other than being open, body, mind, to having one.

Others are out helping with fire evacuees.

8:06 A nice day here, while no smoke is overhead.

Seeing fire in the morning night, huge blazes in the far distance,

Something to sit with. How are the monasteries in the hills doing?

More mindful fig eating: Eat fig in two bites. Look at fig while eating it. Finish eating one fig before picking more.

8:11 My friend would spend more time with me.

I am happy with just a little each day. She trained me too, lessons in detachment.

When I first met her, I was still girlfriend-oriented. She was in no place to be one, and I don't think I was or am what she desires in that way.

It's been a year or two since then. Or lifetimes. I've had chances to explore desire, attachment, detachment.

Meditation, monasticism, in mind, at least.

I know I did once, and I know it is not my original face, to seek a lover.

I see the lookers, facebook friends, stating their looking.

I see the cycle, not the love.

8:18 Laying in the garden, reeating figs, watching sky, crows flying, blue, writing this, slight morning chill, low sun still.

This is all-

Small birds swim.

Green vines climb

Bamboo poles.

Fractal leaf veins, edges:

Wild Lettuce.

Odd cacti.

Ear wigs suffer

As I chase them,

Squish them,

Crawling over

My body.

Ants follow sucker bugs

On eggplant stems.

Warm air flows.

Distant sirens, chainsaw.

Near birdsong.

A bluejay, two now,

On bamboo spars.

Like a hawk.

Pedestrian walking,

Other side of hedge.

--

8:27 Intention?


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Some notes from that day:

_The food revolution_ by John Robbins

Link to Conscious Christ.