What an eventful long weekend that was: anniversary, Younger Daughter's birthday, house-guests, harder-than-usual decision to avoid an academic conference. Through it all, still scoring my steps. Dawn walks averaging 8,000+ each morning. But I rediscover that postponing reports to this journal until after walking makes them increasingly harder to track and easier to lose. So, my modified summer routine henceforth is to be here before 7 am, whenever possible.
It's possible this morning. I rolled out before 6. 71 degrees out here, the sun still masked by heavy cloud cover. So strange to get up and find the driveway half empty, Older Daughter having headed out to work before 5. She's not infatuated with the dawn, but is an impressive riser when she wants to be.
And speaking of waking up, I got another squib from Sam Harris promoting his new and forthcoming book of that title. Looks like a strong candidate for the atheism class, next time. Sam's latest blog entry ruminates on time's toll, health-wise, and his discovery that "it is possible to accept the present moment fully, even when it isn't the present one wants." So, he says, thanks to meditation he fully accepts his tinnitus, and other symptoms of decline.
Well, thanks to my form of walking meditation I'm prepared to suspend non-acceptance of all my physical complaints (my ears ring too), which I shouldn't rehearse in public. Rehearsal leads to recollection, and one of the great benefits of walking is that it enables a healthy forgetfulness that lasts just long enough. It's 6:58. Time to get out there and forget about it.