I went for a run this morning. It was overcast with the occasional brush of light rain. Kind of a noir morning, the kind that breeds either introspection or a blank mind. This was a blank mind noir morning, and I ran through three puddles instead of around them, getting my feet thoroughly wet, but I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Even when there’re no puddles around.
And I almost ran over a car. Sorry poor little senior lady with the red hat for scaring the hell out of you. But next time…stop at the pedestrian crossing. There might be people with blank minds out for a run.
Blank mind is like a sky with no definition…the kind of sky hovering over my head. A portal leading into release from thought. And who needs to think on a Saturday morning under a noir sky?
When you’re running, it’s zen in motion. And I was running, puddles and all. And pretty much ignoring everything. Including my route. I usually run down the street I live on, but today I took a different route, not even realizing it until I came to a small barely leafed tree and I stopped dead, seeing something so beautiful that it actually made my heart pound. I walked around slowly under it, seeing it from different angles and marveling at the stark simplicity and vibrant color.
It was as though the leaves and branches were in a state of blank mind and floating in a place of no definition. But not running into puddles or scaring the hell out of old women.
And this was my challenge for today. I finished the half block of my run, got my camera and went back to that tree, praying every step of the way that nothing had changed, that the tree would still be there, that it would still be in a state of blank mind, that the sky wouldn’t suddenly turn an un-noirish blue.
I wasn’t going back there to capture a picture, I was going back to capture a beautiful feeling. And I think this time I got it right.