Software runs in cycles. There are the kicked-back parts of those cycles, and there are the pedal-to- the-metal, in serious violation of the sanity clause parts of those cycles.
I'm coming down right now from one of the latter. Since the beginning of the year my life has been a soap opera of 70-hour work weeks and not enough sleep and not nearly enough time to kick back. I have this lingering Buddhist work ethic that drives me to really take pride in my work, and to want to do a good job with it. And I never miss deadlines, even when they are unrealistic. Never. Strangely enough, all of this is one of my perverse ideas of fun. But it does take its toll, man. I'm noticing that today, sitting in my favorite bar by the beach, wear- ing shorts and looking down at the whiteness of my legs in comparison to the brown legs walking past. It's downright embarrassing. I look like a piece of boiled whitefish, or an English tourist, whichever is whiter. That'll be gone after a couple of days at the beach, kicking back in the sun and catching up on my reading. But the "busy" part of having been what Maharishi called a "busy buinessman" may take a little longer to dissipate. It's a rush, especially if you are perverse enough to *get off* on being under pressure and trying to do a good job anyway -- and I am very definitely that perverse. Still, like every drug or endorphin rush, being busy all the time has an ugly withdrawal Jones lurking just on the other side of it. I can feel my body *missing* the rush, *missing* being busy and under pressure all the time. It's the damnedest thing. All these years on the spiritual path, and you'd think I'd have learned more about balance, eh? But noooooooooo. I get all Tantric about whatever I'm involved with and just dive into it, sometimes at the expense of balance. I guess that is just part of my own cycle. It's prob- ably why I chose the profession I did; I like the joys of dealing with deadlines and pressure, and trying to surf them without losing *too* much balance. And, now that the waves have died down a bit, I can experience the joys of relearning how to kick back while again not losing *too* much balance. I certainly have a few gurus to learn from around here. Sitting a few tables down from me is a Dutch fellow about my age. Gray hair, somewhat distinguished. In a business suit he would probably look look like a reputable busines- sman...and a fairly successful one, judging from the watch he is wearing. But today that 5000-Euro watch accessorises an outfit consisting of black motocycle pants and a black Harley-Davidson T-shirt. In front of him on the cafe table are a beer and a shiny black chrome helmet. Further in front of him, on the sidewalk, is a full-dress Harley. We are talking fully-chromed and studded and tongued-out here, with custom American Indians and teepees tastefully hand- painted on the gas tank and front fender. This bike would be a rarity in America, much less here in Europe. I look back at the owner of the bike, and he is in his way just as much of a rarity. He may *be* a busy businessman at times, but right here, right now he is definitely not. He is as kicked-back and in the moment as a Zen master. This gets me wondering what I look like, sitting here with my fish-belly white legs in the same cafe with this tanned, smiling happy biker. So I mentally "zoom out" and look back at myself from about ten feet away and ten feet up in the air, trying to get a "long shot" on my self and figure out whether it looks all stressed out by the past few months, or as kicked back as the Biker Buddha several tables down. It is not a dismaying exercise in seeing. I may not be as tanned as he is, but there is as big a smile on my face as there is on his. And I may not have a shiny black chrome motorcycle helmet and the keys to a Harley on my table, but I do have a computer, upon which I am typing a story. And damn if I don't look pretty kicked back myself. Different toys to relax with, I guess...but having the same effect. I don't think it's going to take me all that long to "come down" from my busy businessman period after all. It may take me longer, in fact, to get a tan.
