Honeymoon Day 8: Andean Angling

Moonlight over the lake at the Estancia.

Our wonderful fly-fishing guide, Eduardo, doubles as a picnic chef.

Floating and wading in the Limay; we covered seven miles and saw only one other group all day.

This may have been the day I was most looking forward to, and still it surpassed my expectations. Fishing the crystal clear Rio Limay was both thrilling and meditative. I always picture fishing as a slow, lazy activity. But especially with fly fishing, your mind is active the entire time and the day flies by.

Our guide Eduardo was a joy to be with. He explained the differing climates—the mountain forest of our hotel versus the steppe that surrounds the river. He also explained the differing attitudes of his fishing clientele—“Enjoyers” versus those who bring their “psycho bullshit” to the river, never looking up from the bobbing fly, missing all the scenery, and cursing every bad cast. He told us how proud he is of his two sons, (“13 years apart, same mom!”) who both love the outdoors as much as he does. One is doing a PhD in Andean ecology, combining his two loves: climbing and biology. In the afternoon, Eduardo prepared an elegant meal on a gas hot plate on the riverbank while we continued fishing. After a few days of vegan food, his chicken with grilled onions hit the spot. At the end of the day, he gave us each a big bear hug, and thanked us for being Enjoyers.

Tomorrow we’re looking forward to arriving in El Chalten, where the real hiking begins.

Honeymoon Day 7: Trekking in Baraloche

Me on hiking: “I get it now.” (It only took a trip to Patagonia.) View of our hotel and the lake.

Me on Mamba and Kelly on Barack. (Born November 4, 2008.)

Beet bun, lentil burger. I said vegan and gluten free, I wasn’t kidding.

Today I learned I do enjoy hiking after all. We took a steep and winding trail to a waterfall, and then further up to a vista overlooking the whole lake. It was only a couple of hours, but the payoff felt amazing. After lunch we went horseback riding around the property; our guide explained he’d left farming to come work here where the horses have easier, happier lives. Kelly’s horse, Barack, never fell more than a few paces behind our guide and the lead horse, Tupac. My horse, Mamba, had an attitude and was a bit lazy, lagging behind and stopping whenever she felt like it, but breaking into a trot as soon as the stable was in sight. But we developed an understanding and decided to show off our trotting for Kelly; we got along fine.

Finally we had a glass of Torrontés on the lawn before dinner. We learned this hotel and ranch has 500 acres, but a capacity of only 28 guests. No wonder it feels so private and calm.

It was a peaceful day. We’re super excited for a full-day fly fishing excursion tomorrow!

Has that doorbell always been there?

Has that doorbell always been there? Today I was walking from work to the coffee shop, a two-block stretch I’ve walked many times. But somehow I had never noticed this funny antique doorbell, though it’s at eye level and there’s not much else to notice on this block.

This little surprise got me looking around and noticing a bunch of other things in more detail. Big weird drainage pipes coming out of one building; attractive masonry arches on another; lots block glass windows. Purposefully noticing your surroundings can be like a walking meditation.

If you find yourself on auto-pilot while walking in your neighborhood, or even in your home or office, here a few things you can do to see your surroundings as new again:

Pick a color, and notice everything of that color. Choose red today, green tomorrow, blue the next day, etc.
Pick an object in your visual field, and try to focus not on the object itself, but on the space between you and it, almost as if you can see the air.
Pick a point in the distance. As you walk toward it, try and alternate between two perspectives: you moving toward the stationary point, vs. the point moving toward you. Does it work? Or is changing perspective in this way not possible?
Look for the thresholds and the seams … where a wall meets the ground, where a roof meets the sky, where the curb meets the street.

If you practice seeing something common with fresh eyes, that skill can bleed into other parts of your life in useful ways.

“This moment is all you have.”

“This moment is all you have.” That’s an invocation often echoed during guided sessions on Sam Harris’s Waking Up app. It reminds meditators that the current moment—what you’re actually experiencing right now—is the only part of your life that stands a chance of being “real.” All else is either a memory of the past or a hope for the future, and is in your imagination. Most experiences pass, only partially noticed, as you become self-identified with the next thought, and the next.

Observing your own consciousness in the present instant is like “waking from a dream.” Every moment not spent in mindfulness (the vast majority of our lives) is like dreaming, or as he sometimes puts it: “most of your life is spent talking to yourself, about yourself.”

My vision for this sabbatical.

My vision for this sabbatical is To Pursue Spiritual and Intellectual Clarity. I wrote yesterday about my love for vision statements, so I want to share how I thought about this one. The spiritual and the intellectual are two dimensions in which I’ve long wanted to invest more time.

I felt pulled toward the idea of pursuit, because of course I don’t expect to achieve clarity during this short sojourn (or ever). But also because while plotting my adventure, I felt a desire to seek rather than to find. I’ve had this feeling on and off, maybe always, but I’ve never concentrated on it. The Seeker in me is the layer to be unearthed, the itch to be scratched.

As for how these two central pursuits will take shape and what they will truly entail, I have only vague notions. I will share my experience here, as best I can. I believe daily writing will be a clarifying ritual for me.