An almost ruined morning

Our pear tree

I was going to write about our pear tree this morning, went out to take a photograph, and the camera’s battery was almost dead. This happens fairly frequently when Jack borrows my camera. He doesn’t notice the little signal that tells you the charge is getting low. When I try to take a picture, it’s not very clear, and then the camera goes dead. So, at 6:00 am, I was standing in my backyard, in pajamas and flip flops, with a beautiful sky, feeling annoyed. I was going to write a post about not worrying about “wasting” pears, that in past years I tried to get them all but now I am happier to leave them for the possums (which eat rotten fruit), on and on. I was going to write a very zen post about going with the flow of nature and there I was, standing in my beautiful back yard, feeling pissed off at Jack. “Why does he do this to me?!”  my head yelled. …not very zen.

I could have named this post, “How to ruin a good morning”…. The egoic mind can be so crazy sometimes. It shows me the one thing that isn’t going my way, and tells me that this is a big problem that must be dealt with NOW! We survived the hurricane just fine, it is a gorgeous morning, we have food in the house and our power is on. We have a back-up generator for when it goes out. My phone and computer both work. I had a good nights sleep, and I am going to choose to focus on a dead battery (that can be re-charged in 45 minutes). So, I think I’ll call this post, “How to catch yourself before you make your great life into a problem life by focusing on every little nit-picky thing that you don’t like and blowing it up until it gets huge” which isn’t very zen sounding either, but it is true.

18 thoughts on “An almost ruined morning”

  1. Thanks, again, for your honesty. You remind me that perfection isn’t the goal. Mindful practice is the goal.

  2. Crazy Aunt Purl’s Monday blog post ruminated on the joys of complaining about “upscale human problems that aren’t the least bit dire at all” — which, come to think about it, are most of the things we complain about. I “lost” last Friday morning to a plumbing problem (and minor flood) I woke up to, but ended up grateful for plumbers who actually know how to fix things, bless their souls. And then, of course, we can move on to gratitude for the very fact that we have indoor plumbing. And, more often than not, hot and cold running water. And . . . and . . . and . . .

  3. Good Morning Mary, Cofuscious say, “Post you write sometime better than Post you planned to write!”. And, yes, it is a beautiful morning here in Cambridge, N. Y. And I send good wishes out to our Vermont neighbors who got hit with floods.

    PS – typo, should say Confuscious….

  4. Great Day in the Morning

    by Robert Morgan

    My father, when he was surprised
    or suddenly impressed, would blurt
    “Great day in the morning,” as though
    a revelation had struck him.
    The figure of his speech would seem
    to claim some large event appeared
    at hand, if not already here;
    a mighty day or luminous age
    was flinging wide its doors as world
    on world revealed their wonders in
    the rapturous morning, always new,
    beginning as the now took hold.

    I read this poem Mary (Writer’s Almanac) right before checking in with White Feather Farm. I think it speaks beautifully to the fact that though you were caught up in a momentary feeling of frustration at that almost dead battery, (and Jack, bless him!) you did catch yourself, and returned your focus to the “rapturous morning, always new!” – and that’s what you let take hold of you. I so love seeing your photos of your area – how we covet green, green, green! here in the desert. But we sure do get some spectacular sunrises and sunsets too. Great day in the morning to one and all!

  5. I have an old digital camera that “eats” batteries. I try to remember to take them out after I use it, but just when I want to catch a gorgeous sunset or cat antics, I find that I’ve forgotten and have nothing but that red light. By the time I’ve rummaged through the junk drawer for new ones, the moment has passed. And, I have only myself to blame! I do try to remind myself that there is a sunset every evening and Sniffles will do something silly again. Not always easy. Certainly not very Zen.

    I’m glad that you are safe in New York, Mary. I, too, am concerned about friends in Vermont whomI haven’t heard from since mid-day on Sunday.

  6. Good afternoon and Godspeed to friends out East… it is good to be back online with the Feather Flock.

    Your post today, Mary, reminds me of a recent snafu with my bank: Blue Cross inadvertently attempted to withdraw the national debt from my checking account- eeek! Rather than panicking, raging, and letting this ruin my day (as the “former me” would have done), I made a couple of (calm) phone calls and had it straightened out in twenty minutes. Ahhhh…. The hard part is to *remember* to catch yourself, as you said! And, as Jill said, I paused to be grateful that my son and I have health insurance.

    Thanks, Mary, your wisdom makes life so much easier!

  7. Mary, thanks for sharing your … ” almost ruined morning”, such honest and brave morsels….your courage is so helpful….

    I really like Kelly T’s -Feather Flock -expression, glad to be a feathered one…
    I’ve always loved watching all that preening, also, leaning to how to prime the oil gland that ducks use so I’ll be waterproof and just be able to –
    “let water just flow off my back”…

  8. Gives new meaning to the cliche: “There’s always a catch!”
    It’s up to us to be ready with our mitts to return the volley in a way that honors our intentions. Great play, Mary!

  9. Wow, great post! Now we all have to remember this for the next time we are caught in the moment.

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