April, Come she has

Hello readers.  I hope you are safe.  To all of you on the front lines:  thank you.  You are brave and kind. Literally risking your lives every exhausting day. I am praying for you all the time.  I can't seem to think about anything except the pandemic.    To prevent myself from melting down into panic and despair I have to turn my ever thinking mind off.  The way to do it is:  stop time,  be present in the moment.  The now.  Be your dog.  Some folks escape their tormenting mind with alcohol.  It works for a while.  Then you sober up and get sadder than before.  Same with other drugs.  Except for a few that can show you the Now, and once you can find the presence,  you won't need the drug anymore.  My wife and I,  like everyone else,  have nothing but free time sheltering at home.  That's why I can write here,  which I haven't done much of for four years.  The grass is growing here now.   I've got my JD zero turn out and pumped up.  I used to like mowing because it gave me time to think.  I would go back and forth on brain autopilot planning the future,  worrying.    Dwelling on the past,  trying to spin it.  Now when I mow I am "present" on the job.  With every pass,  every turn,  every height adjustment.  I am conscious of my inner body sitting on the machine.  I am conscious of the grass clippings.  The smell of the grass.  The smell of the neighbor's fertilizer,  my wife's voice calling the dogs.  I used to hustle as sunset approached because I wanted to finish up on "time".  This is an example of how the pandemic and my study of the "presence process" seem to converge in my life.  I love to mow.  I missed a lot of the mowing in my life because I wasn't "there". Flying is different.  For another post.  I noticed that some of the ballads I like to sing seem to refer to the Now.  I never noticed that.  Jim Croce had a cool line in a song called "Hey Tomorrow".  He said:  "Hey tomorrow...   I'm through wastin' what's left of me."   Dylan had a song I used to sing "Chimes of Freedom"  the Byrds smoothed it out and made it listenable,  a tad bubblegummy.  Just like they did with Dylan's  "Mr. Tambourine Man".  In the last phrases of Chimes of Freedom is the line:  "Starry eyed and laughing,  I recall when we were caught ….  could find no track of hours for they hang suspended.  We listened one last time and we watched with one last look...Spellbound and swallowed till the tolling ended."  The narrator is describing some kids in the Now.   My friends I love you.  Be safe.  It's 5:30.  I shall go mow a bit and watch the sunset.      LLITTY      :::::+:::::