Plunged in galoshes up to our eyebrows

Why am I calling my blog "Plunged in Galoshes"? It is a phrase from G.I. Gurdjieff (or Gurdjieff quoting Mulla Nasruddin) - "Plunged in galoshes up to your eyebrows" ... which makes me chuckle because it so niftily encapsulates the human condition. We valiantly yet ineptly prepare for life's challenges (by putting on the galoshes to go out in the rain) and then find ourselves immediately way over our head – in deep – overwhelmed by life - plunged in galoshes up to our eyebrows.

I started this blog to share some of my observations, reactions, thoughts, about life and the human condition, to practice writing and have some fun seeing what it's like to write out into the big wide world of people I don't know yet. I am interested in a million things, including cognitive science, Rupert Sheldrake, holistic health, recovery from chronic fatigue, the human body, physics and metaphysics, music and art, American history, ancient history, and where people find their car keys after they have lost them.

Today is June 27, 2009, and this is my first post. I'm writing to you from the Trident Coffeehouse in Boulder, Colorado. It's about 9:00pm and I'm enjoying the ambience here. I'm typing on my little old 12" Mac G4, (miraculously not whirring loudly for the moment). I'm at the second table from the door on the east side of the main room, looking across at the coffee and tea counter. This very pleasant room has a high (12 or 13 foot?) ceiling, exposed brick walls, ceiling fans whirling softly. Mellow jazz music is playing.

Turning my head to the right, I can see outside to the street scene, with groups of mostly younger people streaming by, going to or returning from restaurants, or heading out for night life and drinking and dancing. A potted palm sits in the old-fashioned window, screened a bit by green floral cafe curtains on a rod. The red neon light saying "OPEN" glows beyond the palm against the glass. Outside, several people sit at white metal tables, reading and drinking tea from white porcelain pots and cups. Wooden floors, green painted wood framed windows right up to the ceiling - this might have been a dry goods store from the 1920s, very likely was.

A steady stream of people go in and out of the screen door and purchase beverages from the counter. There are some honey jars and one honey bear sitting on a shelf above the several glasses filled with clean spoons of various sizes. Behind the workers against a mirror is a shelf stocked with silver cylindrical containers of loose teas. These teas have wonderful names such as Golden Monkey, Dragonwell, Black River Pu-Erh, Golden Needle, Silver Needle, and White Peony as well as more prosaic names like Earl Grey, Assam and Ceylon-Kenilworth Estate.

Although I worry about how I might deal with interactions with unknown readers, and worst of all, what if I write something that offends someone? Well, I've decided to go ahead and plunge in, galoshes and all, and find out what it's like. I remember Arianna Huffington on Charlie Rose sometime this year, exhorting anyone and everyone to get out there are start blogging, dahling!