In the Moment

Carpe diem, quam minimus credula postero.

Seize today, and put as little trust as you can in tomorrow.

Horace

Odes Book 1 (35 B.C.)

It’s not the usual Saturday morning. It’s wet, foggy, and lukewarm outside which is par for the course for the City but not for September, not for Indian summer. This morning’s fog and wetness was precipitated by some serious thunder and lightning, not your garden variety thunder and lightning, but the kind of thunder and lightning that lead people in ancient times to create the gods. The predawn sky was lit up better than any 4th of July fire works show and the thunder was earth shaking. On average the City might get thunder and lightning about once over 7 or 8 years and usually the weather folks and their satellites and the weather itself prepares you for it. Not this time. It literally came out of nowhere. When I called it a night at about 2am it was the usual nightly wind blown fog outside my window. I could see the trees in the backyard doing their nightly dance and the glowing aura of the street lamps obscured by the fog. Cozy in my grog of sleep I heard a rumbling and spasms of light illuminated my room. Am I asleep? Am I dreaming? CRACK! KABOOM! Awake I am! There is no denying it now, this is real, as real as it gets. A reign of silence is followed by growing numbers of pelting rain drops smacking windows and sills in a disturbed rhythm. The rumbling is now in the distance and the syncopated rain lulls me back to sleep.

I awake at about 8:15am and instead of the bright sunlight I have been gifted the last 3 or 4 days there is just the glow of morning fog coming through my bedroom window. My brain is engaging itself, starting up for the day. I stare at the ceiling trying to decide if I had a really awesome dream and the gods spoke to me or did Mother Nature make a cameo. The deep rumbling I began to hear confirmed that I had not been dreaming. The growling was in the distance, perhaps coming from the west, from the great Pacific Ocean. It grew closer until it seemed it was directly over head with only my roof separating me from the uneasiness. It was happening again. I could feel the energy building up. Being completely awake this time I was able to feel the full effect of the sonic boom when the thunder released its supreme energy. I can not recall the last time I felt a force this powerful that only earthquakes could rival or surpass. Instinctively one knows this is a force of nature not to be confused by something conjured up by humankind. My bedroom walls shook and my curtains vibrated. My heart bolted and adrenaline flowed through me like a bursting dam. Physically I had not moved one iota but on a spiritual and mental level I had been transported to the heavens in the kind of way you can only get from a natural high. This blast seemed mightier than the one preceding the dawn. Like some shamanistic nature junkie I lay there hoping it would happen again. The force moved from above my roof and traveled east as I could hear the rumbling drifting away. Again came the rain, this time gentle and rhythmic, like a peaceful afterbirth.

Stirred by the reverence I rose from the bed and hopped on my two wheeled steel steed and headed for Golden Gate Park. I wanted to see if the Peace Festival, the free concert in the park and the antidote to the recent and costly Outside Lands, was still on the agenda. I was happy to see many San Franciscans in the moist and mist camped out on towels and blankets in front of the stage ready for the music to start. Good, now that I know it’s on I just need to get back to see headliner Michael Franti close the festival out at 5:00pm. I headed down the bike path south of Speedway Meadow to check out a friend who I had not seen in over 20 years. I learned through Facebook he would be running in a cross country race in the park. I thought it would be cool to show up at race end surprise him. Not long after I arrived I saw him sprinting to the finish with a pack of runners. I managed to get a blurry photo of him as he crossed the finish line spent and exhausted. We chatted a few minutes asking the usual questions and I went on my way. I had to get home and change into my civvies and hop on MUNI to meet a good friend and work comrade for lunch at the Metreon. That is where I find myself now, in the back of the usually sardine packed 21 Hayes bus typing on my netbook. There is plenty of room on the bus this morning. I can only hope the day continues as such in this live-for-the-moment kind of day. Somehow I think it will.