Random Moment #001

Last night, Daughter Number 2 and I saw Art School Confidential, which is a very funny and sometimes touching movie — it rates right up there on the Schprockometer and I recommend it to all my readers. DN2 and I like to meet at the Loew’s Boston Common Theatre when we see movies together; it’s not far from my office and convenient for my daughter to get to. What I usually do is, I’ll change into my bike commuter clothes before I leave the office, ride the bike to the theatre, lock it up, and after the movie lets out DN2 takes the train to the Warren Street stop about a half mile from our house while I race home on the bicycle, pick up the car, and drive to meet her at the stop. Last night, however, it was raining, so I went to the theatre in my regular street clothes and left my bicycle at the office. The plan after the movie was for me to sprint back to the office, change, grab the bike, and meet her at the train stop; then we’d both walk from there to the house together.

Well, I sprinted back to the office, and I changed and grabbed my bike all right, but go no further than that because it had a flat tire! I wound up calling the missus and had her pick DN2 up at the train stop instead, while I changed back into my regular clothes and took the train home myself. I could have fixed the flat and rode home if I chose to, but my bicycle has these extra tough Specialized Armadillo tires that are a pain in the ass to take off and put back on. I always seem to kink the new inner tube or puncture it somehow and wind up with another flat; so, if possible, I’ll pay a professional to change the inner tube for me, which is why I’m here in the office on this rainy Saturday morning — in a minute or two, I’ll walk the bike down to the shop and let Rich, the bike mechanic, do it for me.

Anyway, here’s the whole reason for this post: Daughter Number 1 drove me to my Saturday morning breakfast spot this morning where I had my standard cheese omelet, home fries, toast and coffee. Then I found myself faced with a mile walk to my office in the pelting rain. I brought a rain poncho with me, which is very effective at keeping me dry from mid-thigh up; however, my pants from mid-thigh down were exposed to the elements, and in a short while they became thoroughly saturated. This was a good thing. Why? Because it gave me a chance to practice a little “mindfulness” and “body awareness.” Haven’t all of us at many points in our lives gotten stuck in the rain with no other option than to brave it out? At first you feel a certain abhorrence to getting wet; if it were possible to dance around raindrops, you’d do it. Your clothes and hair begin to get damp and mentally you sort of say to yourself, Ick! Ick! Ick! Then, as things gradually go from damp to sodden, a wonderful thing happens: you accept being wet! You investigate the feeling of what happens to your body as you get more and more soaked; you follow the caress of the rain’s cold, wet fingers as it seeps in everywhere; you notice how your drenched clothes pull at you as your strong muscles unyieldingly continue to move you along; and you realize what a fine thing it is that a little water can’t harm you and is, in a strange way, refreshing and in no way something to recoil from. So here I sit at my work computer in completely wet pants, feeling relaxed and in a great mood.

I know: very trivial, but I thought I’d share it with you anyway.