Focusing On The Wrong Thing

Generally I pride myself on being diligent and organised. Having had a few big things to focus on last week, on Wednesday morning I was focused on an in-person meditation I had been invited to lead, at a fashionable online brand I was supposed to have signed an NDA about, to celebrate their return to the office. Since I had to leave directly after the nine o’clock session I lead every week, I was orienting my energies around that when suddenly my calendar app pinged. 

Every other Wednesday, I lead a short meditation at 8:30, and this was my ten-minute warning for that. Normally I am totally across these kinds of things, but it had totally fallen off my radar, even though I knew that I didn’t have it at 4:00pm (which is the slot on the other weeks), since I was planning a ride after lunch. I still had ten minutes – though I wasn’t yet dressed in the kind of professional clothes I like to have on for Zoom calls (one of my colleagues confessed to always wearing pyjama trousers, but I have a fear that somehow they will end up being seen, so I dress as if I was at an in-person meeting).

I think a large part of the surge of adrenalin that kicked in was the realisation that I could have easily had my volume off, or ‘do not disturb’ set, as I do for the times when I am leading meditations, and perhaps I would have completely spaced on the session. As it was, I was ready in time to sit down and talk about how I felt the energy in my body, and the cause of it – the tension I was feeling also exacerbated by some construction noises starting downstairs (there has been sporadic renovations going on in one of the apartments in the building, but this week was more drilling and hammering than usual). 

And then, having also talked about this in my 9:00 session (I do sometimes stick to the same riff – or play around with the same theme –  for my three regular Wednesday sessions, since there are no overlapping attendees), I rode downtown, ending up relaxedly early for the in-person event. It is a while since I went into an open-plan corporate office. The nice office manager showed me a lounge space that would work well (though the fluorescents and the loud air-conditioning weren’t ideal), and said that a couple of people had signed up, though it had been much quieter here than in the main office down the Peninsula. I sat there, and nobody came. 

It’s definitely not the first time this has happened for a corporate offering I have led. I only saw one person flitting about among the many empty desks with monitors on arms. I was happy just to sit and pay attention to my surroundings, running over what I would say if someone did come along, or if I was invited back another time. The office manager was very apologetic when she returned at the end of the time slot, but I felt more relaxed than I had all morning. 

I picked up new reading glasses on my way home, led my midday class on Within – with more drilling below – rode up San Bruno Mountain, and stopped at the Castro farmers market which had chosen a warm and sunny afternoon to debut for this year. It was nice to see some familiar faces at the stalls, and be recognised as well. 

It got even hotter on Thursday, up to 82, which made my commute a little sweaty, but I am really not complaining. Luckily it was a little fresher for the supplementary roam on Friday afternoon, where we went against the current of GIants fans walking down the Embarcadero and instead traced the outlines of Yerba Buena Cove. This was one of my whimsical roam ideas, which allowed us to take in a lot of urban architecture from the last century and more, and to appreciate the little slopes that revealed, even after all this time, where the water had stopped before all those blocks got filled in.

This was a nice spot to sit at the northern end of the roam, peacefully away from the Friday afternoon rush.

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