Easter 2022

Tulip Festival once more

Yesterday Lily and I drove south to visit the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival, as we have done in previous years. It was another feast for the eyes, and although it was Easter Saturday, it was incredibly cold for this time of the year. When I left my apartment, it was 32°F (0°C), about ten degrees below normal. At least it wasn't snowing, as some of my blogging friends are dealing with right now. One friend said that if they had an Easter Egg hunt, they would have to deal with snowdrifts! Wacky, weird weather.

But it was mostly sunny, and since we arrived right as the doors opened, we were part of the first wave of spectators to see the gorgeous RoozenGaarde displays. We rushed around to some of our favorite places, so we might be able to see them without lots of people. Sure enough, we got plenty of great shots before we left almost two hours later. And the people were streaming in by then, long lines of cars waiting to park, throngs pouring through the entrance as we left. I knew it would be busy, since I usually try to avoid the weekends, but it was the only time Lily knew for sure she wouldn't be working, so off we went anyway, making sure to be early birds.

After we left the display gardens, we went to the quaint little town of La Conner, which looks forward to this time of the year as they make most of their income from the tourists during April's festival. We had a wonderful scrumptious lunch at Nell Thorn, one of Lily's favorite places to eat in La Conner, and since we got there early, we avoided those crowds, too. We walked out of the restaurant to do some shopping right at noon, just when the crowds we left at the tulip fields were looking to enjoy their own lunch. Our timing was perfect.

It's Easter Sunday, and it brings back memories to me of previous years that I've spent this holiday in other places, with other people. For many years in Boulder I made a solitary retreat during Holy Week, the seven days prior to Easter, staying for the week at the Abbey of St. Walburga, a cloistered community of nuns who follow St. Benedict's rules. They had an abbey just outside of Boulder, and for a small donation you could stay in your own little cottage and share meals with the other retreatants in the main abbey. We were served delicious food by the nuns. I found it to be a great place to meditate and pray, which I sorely needed, as my job at the time was very stressful. The order has since moved to another location in Colorado, and I just spent some time at the above link looking at the pictures of their life today. There were nineteen cloistered nuns when I stayed with them. When they would sing the offices of the Liturgy, I would go into the chapel and listen to some of them. (They started well before I awoke.)

I am reminded that there was a time in my past when I spent part of every day in meditation. Then it sort of fell away, and only recently have I picked it up again, this time in the spirit of Buddha, but there seems to be very little difference to me as I regain the practice once again. Whether my prayers are heard or not, by whatever entity that might exist, the practice itself calms and centers me for the rest of my day. I am a better person because of it, at least that's what I think happens. It changes me, even if my thoughts don't extend out into the universe. They might, though, nobody alive knows for sure. 

Last night I worked hard all night long in my dreams. Once again, I was a skydiving instructor, and I had many students to take care of. When I was assigned a student, the first thing I did before figuring out whether they knew what to do was to assess their fall rate. When you are in freefall with another person, whether holding onto them or not, it's important to match fall rates. If I had a woman who outweighed me, especially one with large hips, I'd strap several pounds of lead into my waist belt. I learned over the years that those were the fastest-falling students; your center of gravity is at your hips, and the way to gain stability in freefall is by pushing your hips toward the ground, with arms and legs acting as rudders to move yourself around in freefall. Just like a shuttlecock in badminton, when you throw it into the air, it always falls with the heavier part facing towards the ground. Same as in freefall.

Over the years, I taught more than a thousand students how to skydive, and many of them went on to become famous in the sport. Since I still subscribe to the Parachutist magazine, I see many of them in pictures as they attempt large formations, or other feats that once interested me very much, but that I now view with a bit of nostalgia. Time allows us to move on and change from one adventure to the next. Although time might be an illusion, I don't know any way to escape from its linear grasp, except through my dreams. There, I am in whatever present moment is dredged up from the depths of my mind. Last night's dreams were as real to me as the reality of sitting here on my computer composing this post.

Although I am still not quite finished with the book on quantum mechanics that I started weeks ago, I have become very familiar with several different aspects of quantum speculation, and yes it still seems quite incredible that all we know of reality might be skewed by our observation of it. 

Suppose for example that quantum mechanics were found to resist precise formulation. Suppose that when formulation beyond FAPP (for all practical purposes) is attempted, we find an unmovable finger obstinately pointing outside the subject, to the mind of the observer, to the Hindu scriptures, to God, or even only gravitation? Would that not be very, very interesting? —John Bell

Everything I have read points to a process that is unexplained and unexplainable with our current knowledge. For some reason, all of this has given me a sense of joyful anticipation, that I might actually end up being alive when a momentous discovery of the creation of our universe comes into being. Maybe the James Webb telescope that will begin to chart the early universe will be the trigger, and if so, it should begin this coming summer. In any event, I am excited about it. I have enjoyed the images captured by the Hubble telescope for years, and since so far everything is going according to plan with the Webb telescope, we should learn plenty during the years that it will be active. It's a very fertile and exciting time to be alive!

All that and Easter, too! The day looks bright and inviting, with plenty of sunshine coming my way, with temperatures at least ten degrees warmer already than yesterday at this time. John will be picking me up as usual as we head to Fairhaven for a Sunday breakfast together. I will definitely find the time today for a walk, and to admire the beauty that surrounds me every day, rain or shine. Tomorrow the rain returns, but today's gorgeous sunshine will be appreciated by many. Little ones running out to discover hidden eggs, plenty of chocolate bunny ears consumed, and the continuation of spring here in the Northern Hemisphere of Planet Earth! 

I do sincerely hope that whatever the universe brings you today, it will include at least a few hugs and virtual blessings from your family and friends. My dear partner still sleeps quietly next to me. We begin a new season and from this vantage point, I see lots of love and joy coming your way. Be well until we meet again next week, dear friends.