Mind Eclipsed
A Wonderful Day in the Here and Now
In the midst of a personal period of time remarkable for its complexity and significant life change, an amazing day occurred, one experienced by an amazing number of people throughout North America.
A — no, THE solar eclipse.
And I was in a front-row seat — well, in the back of a pick-up truck, actually, along a country road in southern Michigan near Ohio. While we were trying to get to a place to experience “totality,” we ran out of time, yet managed to enjoy about 97 percent of the experience.
During the last eclipse in our neck of the woods, in 2017, we were moving youngest daughter into a college dorm for her first year of college. It was a difficult time for many reasons, and we were solely focused on helping with this significant transition. The whole realm of ideal viewing locations and eclipse glasses was not on our agenda.
But this time, with other significant transitions behind us, I had the day wide open with nothing to do but wander those country roads with loved ones, seeking our ideal viewing place and hopefully experiencing a mind-blowing natural wonder. Even the journey itself was delightful, as we researched eclipse-related topics that made us laugh: The question of whether one needs glasses if watching the solar eclipse on TV and the admonishment not to wear the glasses while driving, to mention a couple.
We stopped at a quaint little bar in a quaint little town for lunch, notable for its stuffed red squirrels adorning a shelf and three televisions heralding the countdown to the eclipse. We were not the only ones with the lunch bells going off; the single server seemed a bit surprised by the size of the Monday lunch crowd, but never stopped smiling.
Back on the road, we quickly connected with literally hundreds of other vehicles attempting to execute the exact same route as us. So much for feeling we had a unique plan for success. I took a moment to be amused at our collective humanity. We may think we are unique or divided philosophically, but we really do have a great deal in common, particularly how our minds address issues and opportunities — and marvel at inspiring sights.
Soon, the eclipse commenced, and we knew we had to get off the road and get settled pronto. We pulled out of the never-ending line of traffic and headed the opposite direction — the road less traveled, if you will, always a personal favorite of mine. While we quickly caught up with yet another stream of humanity, we were able to turn on to another side road, cross the Raisin River, and pull into a river access, where a single vehicle was set up to watch the show. They cheered as we arrived, which we took as a good sign, and we got ourselves settled on the tailgate — with our eclipse glasses, of course.
The never-ending line of traffic slowly continued heading south as we met our fellow gazers, though about 20 other vehicles soon joined us in our little viewing area. It was delightful to note the diversity of our gathered group — all sorts of ethnicities from young to old — all with a common goal of joyously experiencing this unique opportunity.
The sun and the moon did not disappoint. Rapidly, the world quieted down — although a few probably-forlorn travelers continued to drive by. One imagines the conversations taking place in those vehicles. The sky darkened; outdoor lights on a nearby church came on. A moth flew by. It was still, except for the low murmurings of awe. Quickly, only a sliver of sun remained, causing an eerie darkness on the left side of the area and a much brighter right side. It felt surreal.
In a nanosecond, that sliver began to grow in size, and we were on the other side of the eclipse — the darkness receding, the light growing, the crowd rustling. We toasted mighty Mother Nature and gave thanks for being able to experience such a sight. Waving a fond farewell to our fellow travelers, we headed home.
Lessons learned:
— A life-long effort has been to spend more time in the here and now. I tend to be future-focused, plotting and wondering (worrying) about what comes next. Others feel very comfortable reflecting on the past. While time in both spaces can be enjoyable and productive, too much time there can result in missing the riches of being in the present. On this day, I was nicely situated in the moment — every single moment — and it was delicious.
— Related and important, my mind ceased its muttering for a time. No worries about the to-do list. No fears about the latest aches and pains. No rants about the world today. It quieted like the air around us, seemingly willing to go along with the auspicious experience. There needs to be a solar eclipse mind practice to keep this insight alive.
— I just finished a fine book called “Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How it Can Transform Your Life,” by Dacher Keltner. He describes many types of awe, and one is “wild awe,” highlighting the strong need we all have for nature. “In fact, it is hard to imagine a single thing you can do that is better for your body and your mind than finding awe outdoors,” he writes, also referencing the “quieting of the default self.” Solar ecipses most definitely fall into the category of “wild awe.” And Keltner notes that “we are all equal in awe.”
— I am hugely thankful to my dear loves who took me on this wonder-full adventure to seek a solar eclipse. We laughed; we explored; we sighed; we talked about important topics. We had the sense to stop and get out of that truck at just the right time, and experience something truly wondrous. It was a fabulous adventure — just the way I like my adventures.
