Centered
I have found my center and become a gyroscope. Wobble me, bobble me; still it holds.
It's been three years since I came to Seattle, and (finally) I think all the nasty edges have been whittled away. There are still a few areas I'm working to improve. But, the legacy of other places and times has mostly been erased.
Before, I was cruel and impatient. My misanthropic tendencies governed my attitude. I was indelicate and ungracious in expressing my opinions. Slow to praise I would rush to criticize. Now I am tolerant to the point of impracticality. I consider the impact of my words and actions on other people and wonder how to be a less discomfitting presence. I enjoy the calm that comes from allowing other people their way in the world. If a thing is one I cannot change, there is little point in letting it knock me out of balance.
I mention all these things because they became obvious to me while in New York. In the subway tunnels it was common for the crowd to push around me, like a river runs past the legs of a bridge. I was slow and plodding quite nearly to being still. They were limitless and in motion. One evening as I was walked down Central Park West an elderly gentleman sped by me. I don't remember anyone lapping me in New York when I lived there, not even spry old folk. Once I would have picked up my pace, joined the crowd and run by, or over, anyone who blocked my progress. I certainly wouldn't have been overtaken by the elderly.
The hard part, I think, will be finding the right momentum to hold my center. I am, after all, become a gyroscope.
