letting go

i learned to juggle about 20 years ago - in fact loret showed me the basics. learned a few tricks - behind the back throws, the 'reverse cascade', pins (a la the flying karamazov brothers), juggling four balls, juggling in tandem with a partner - but never took it very far. or to be precise, took it just far enough. (i taught my nephew cyrus how to juggle, however, and he went on to juggle knives, flaming torches, etc. even went to a clown camp).

as with all activities, it was an opportunity for meditative inquiry. almost invariably, when i felt tense or contracted - or was trying 'too hard' - a ball or two or three would hit the floor. the balance between catching and throwing - holding vs. letting go - clearly was key. but a greater emphasis for a fluid juggle needed to fall on, it seemed, the 'letting go.' by contrast, the catching - or holding on - would take care of itself.

i rode the local circulator bus to the metro center on tuesday. a fellow boarded and sat next to me, one seat left vacant between us. short reddish brown hair, half grin on his face; he said 'hi' individually to several nearby passengers, and to me. just seemed like he was having a good start to his day.

i sometimes have days like that, days of feeling the surfeit of love which abounds and surrounds us each moment. feelings that i will often unconsciously throw dark cloaks over. my mind lost in worry, regret, planning, daydreams, whatever. holding on.

anyway, the fellow caught up to me - not too big a feat: little old ladies will often pass me - and stands next to me on the escalator down to the trains. he asked 'what happened, why the cane?' i tell him, citing both the blessed and cursed nature of the beast, and thank him for asking. (fyi, this is one 'cripple' who is more than happy to tell you what ails him, and my guess is that would be the case with many of us. i think most outwardly healthy people fear the 'none of your business, buzz off!' response; or worse, a stoney silence, averted gaze.)

so the smiling fellow said he was 'glad to meet me,' and we shook hands before reaching the bottom of the escalator. his palm was warm and sweaty - i'd be sure to wash mine before lunch, of course: this was the dark-cloaked thought that flitted through my mind. later, waiting for the train on the platform, i patted the wallet in my pants' pocket, still there. the dark cloak casting doubt - why was that guy so friendly? what was his agenda? he didn't proselytize or ask me to support some political cause. or maybe he was high on crystal meth? what has this world come to? can't a person just have a happy, bountiful day, and throw off his cloak now and then? and let go?

even as spring is rising up beneath our feet. rode the metro downtown thursday for lunch with my girlfriend. came up the 'wrong' escalator, not the one right next to our prearranged café. no tables available outside, we dined in. we both were leaving by metro, and the escalator nearest was not operating in the down direction. so we had to walk to the one i'd come up, and guess what, it too was only running 'up.' was this a moment to accept the invitation for more physical therapy than i'd expected, and in the company of my sweetheart? or instead to rue the extra effort? a little of both - as with many such moments - finding the balance between holding on and letting go.

to wear the dark cloak - or to hold onto the juggling ball - this may be an adaptive strategy at times. to cast off the cloak, to let go and throw the ball, this i believe is the antidote. and if our days are weighted in favor of letting go, i think such a balance can help to liberate us. hold, throw, contract, let go, breathe in, breathe out.

may our days be balanced and light, and may our juggling be fluid.

happy easter.