Treatise on Windshield Wipers pt 1

Dharma has been... well, enlightening. 

I recently was encouraged (by multiple sources employing different mediums) to "PAY ATTENTION TO FLEETING THOUGHTS." 

The most recent of these messages was delivered verbally by one Alexis Santos, whom I joined a sanga to meet and am now just absorbing as much wisdom from as I am able to tenuously hold onto.

I was issued this gentle suggestion on Sunday and on Monday afternoon, I was afforded the opportunity to notice one of these fleeting thoughts, so I put a rivet through it.

As I was getting into my Forester to drive to the second day of the retreat, after having worked mostly from home in the confines of my glamorous bedroom come office come improvised gym come improvised yoga studio come changing room come storage closet come dry bathroom vanity come dinner nook come... maybe you get my drift: I rent a room and that's where I spend a more than ample amount of time. 

I'd love to just blame the disparity of generational wealth or the fact that I saw a total of maybe 7.5k from the sale of my deceased mother's property while my sister was already a home-owner, you know: circumstances - but I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge myriad opportunities to firmly grasp the next rung and move into paying property taxes...but I digress and digression is not my game.

This spring has been a wet one. Seems the more pleasant weather and fairer skies have been reserved for Mondays and Tuesdays, with the occasional Sunday afternoon offering a chance to see what lies beyond the cloud cover. This particular Monday had broken the trend and was gloomy with precipitation holding off until the afternoon, when it began spitting seemingly random-sized drops of water intermittently earthward. 

When I got into my vehicle, I cranked the wipers on full blast and here I noticed the fleeting thought.

I became aware that I was reacting to the state of my windshield in irritation. Out of irritation. Out of anger. I wasn't thinking of the process at all. The thought might have been as blunt as "can't see. Angry" and I scrolled the dial open to full bore, which was overkill given the quantity and frequency of the rain falling.

It was perhaps the briefest of pauses but I rolled the wiper on the arm of the steering column back to off and I waited for the windshield to slowly, ever so slowly, become occluded by water. 

You may notice, Constant Reader, that anger is a bit of a theme with this character. It was less than a week ago when I was quipping (a la Hulk) that I was "always livid" to a friend after I captured Wordle on the second guess - using her clues and knowing her starter word always gives me an unfair advantage, but with limited 'w's on the board, I'll take what I can get.

I turned the wipers back on at their lowest setting and, finding this to be insufficient for my driving needs, eased the frequency (measure in cpm or cycles per minute) to greater accommodation. 

Then I was off. On my way to our retreat, still vaguely focused on the rain, humming something by Eddie Rabbitt as I made my way across town.

...to be continued...