Partial Solar Eclipse

Dim eclipsed-sunlight filtering through tree leaves cast cloud-like shadows on our driveway.

One of the first social media posts I read today was from a gal who I know through the Lyme community. She wanted to know whether fellow patients were experiencing anything unusual on account of the solar eclipse. Comments included: "I feel like I'm on a wild ride;" "intense;" "overwhelmed;" "I feel like my normal self;" "jittery, anxious;" "weird head pressure;" "migraine;" "teared up from intense neuro symptoms;" "no difference."

Upon waking I like to meditate, and today I did so for 20 minutes. I just sit up in bed, cross-legged with my hands folded Buddhist style in my lap, and set my watch to ring the alarm when it's time. My field of close-eyed vision was calm. You know when your eyes are closed it's not completely 100% dark, even on the most pitch black of nights. It's more like you're trying to watch a TV broadcast of a channel that doesn't exist or there's no reception for. For me I perceive a field of fine static fuzziness comprised of very small, fine dots.

I have an opening mantra I repeat a few times in my mind's eye. Then I watch my breath and request communion with the greater power. I ask it to be present along with providing harmony and healing. This morning's meditation was overall good with moments of clarity and inner peace in the middle and right at the very end before my watch began beeping its alarm.

We took in today's partial eclipse (92.5% coverage) at our private community beach called the Cove. We arrived a little before 10:00 a.m. Pacific. Our original plan was to join the viewing party at the Des Moines library, which was going to be handing out solar glasses until they ran out. On the way there Mt. Rainier was encircled in marine layer; mystical and spectacular.

The library had ran out by the time we got there. We turned down the hill toward the water and thought perhaps the pier at the marina would make for a good spot. That's when we noticed the fog rolling in. We changed course again and returned to our neighborhood's waterfront.

The fog bank had rolled all the way north from Des Moines. Another fog bank rolled in from the west and hugged the coast a little ways out into the water. The shoreline was as wide, if not wider, than I've ever seen it with an extremely low tide. Another fog bank was threatening to crest the hillside from the north of us. The view east remained clear as well as within a quarter mile radius around our location on the beach. We were literally wreathed by a fog belt, which was eerie and beautifully surreal.

At one point my husband pointed out the fading light. I removed my sunglasses to scan the landscape, which was cast in an early dusk dimness. Ducks flew in groups westward out to the water from the lagoon east of our location.

The air was cool and as the sun's light faded the air became noticeably cooler. I felt really anxious while we were there, and as the light lowered I felt physically heavier, like the force of gravity had slightly intensified.

The apex of the eclipse occurred around 10:21 a.m. Pacific. A short while after the apex, two large cranes soared overhead. A flock of birds, crows, ducks and others, flew back to shore out of the fog bank. Then a bald eagle began circling overhead. Amazing.

We left the beach about 10 min. later and drove back home. On arrival the broad daylight still appeared strained. I grappled with whether it was the way I was perceiving the light, readjusting after having been out on the open shoreline. Our home is in a more wooded setting.

My anxiousness had me questioning whether I had injured my eyes. I am the very last person who needs to add insult to his already long list of medical ailments; past and present.

My husband wanted to know what I wanted to do with our day. My body temperature was still feeling low. I was chilled, shivering and imagined that may have been contributing to my anxious feeling. I suggested we crawl back into bed to warm ourselves and so we did.

I was still restless, so my husband suggested I do a 10 min. meditation to bring myself back to center. So I did. This particular meditation was very different from earlier. At first my field of closed eye vision was super agitated. The fuzz was moving around aimlessly and rapidly. I took it in and sat with it, and then things calmed. I even felt a moment of divine stillness. My soul overall felt restless. The world feels restless, and it is. It's more important for us all now to find stillness and peace.

Waiting for the eclipse B&T selfie portrait.

Very low tide.

Northwestern fog bank

South, southwestern fog bank.

North fog bank.

Two cranes.

Bald eagle.