A man carried metal, carried gold
Something happened between Thursday lunch and Saturday breakfast. I’m not sure what, though a couple of in-depth conversations undoubtedly assisted. To recap: The week before last was a real bummer, emotionally. February, and all that. Then last week I spent three days immersed in SoL work, a one-day workshop on systems thinking and then two days as recording secretary for the council of trustees. A deep and heartfelt set of meetings, with little time for other thoughts.
By Thursday I knew that I had months of personal work to do; personal mastery would be the Fifth Discipline term, expanded considerably by Robert Fritz in The Path of Least Resistance. I have the Jon Kabat-Zin book to finish and integrate. I have Grady McGonagill’s “practice model” inquiry questions to delve into. And I have a lot of other personal inquiry in mind.
Somehow, this quantity of depth work sits well with me right now, unconcerned about “outcomes,” or the “future,” or the “past.” And so by Saturday morning, apparently I was prepared to learn something interesting: If you want to completely clean the living room, the best approach is to rearrange all the furniture.
In my case, I turned the room 90 degrees, with the focal point moving from the west wall to the south window. Move some stuff, vacuum, put the new stuff there. Vacuum the old spot, move some other stuff, vacuum there. Rough out the locations, vacuum the rug, and the back of the rug. Get the tunes running again. Have lunch. Do some minor rearranging. Place some objets d’art. And then vacuum the whole room again as if you haven’t done it yet. I tell you, the place looks pretty damn clean after this regimen.
Lynne and I had supper, and fun t’boot. Later that night I did precision loudspeaker alignment, and listened to a few selections. For the first time since I’ve owned this high-resolution laboratory-quality stereo, I’ve aimed the speakers inward, toward the center listening spot. In the past I’ve focused on the width of the stereo image, and have aimed the speakers either straight ahead or slightly outward. This new arrangement is the most intense setup yet. Pointing them inward puts the sound inside your head, and the speakers disappear into the background. The soundstage is narrower, but more focused. Even at very low amplitude (that’d be volume, for you non-technical folks) there is a quality of precision, of the air being liquid, with subtle acoustic vibrations enveloping the listener.
The new furniture arrangement is a little tighter, and forms more of a circle than a rectangle. So when you come into the room to sit down you are effectively “entering a circle.” Combined with the new psychoacoustic interiority of the sound system, it’s a unique feeling. Very powerful, but light and airy, not heavy.
I spent Sunday sitting in the soundfield, looking out into the blue sky and yellow sun and green trees (instead of the old view, into a mirror showing the staircase behind me). I did Yoga for nearly an hour, and felt great. Laundry, dishwashing. Hung a whiteboard. Made a list of upcoming household errands. Made a meal plan, and a shopping list. Matted a couple of photos. An actual day off – glorious.
Today I started a new morning routine, including taking my tea on the couch, then Yoga, shower, and breakfast, all before computing. When I was shaving I looked up and caught myself with a little smile. “Weird,” I thought. Then, a pause, and, “Weird that me smiling is weird.”
When we say, “I love you,” do we include ourselves?
March 6, 2006