Finding inner peace

On the right side of a semi-automatic pistol.

Yesterday morning, the dog and I jogged about a 1/2 hour.  I'm still keeping things easy so that the left leg issue stays away.

Yesterday afternoon, I went with my husband to a work party at a firing range.  Apparently, bowling was deemed "too boring". 

I had never fired a weapon in my life, although I used to play Duck Hunt and stuff like that; the closest I've come is pulling the trigger on a real but unloaded rifle hooked to a simulator.  There was no kick and no noise.  I didn't even know about the smell or the puff of expelled air and smoke, but my concerns were nevertheless ample.

But I had to try firing a real gun while I had the chance.  We once owned a small pistol for a few months; my husband had won it at a charity event back in Kansas.  It was a dull dark grey plastic, a colour that was mainly a void.  I touched it once and it didn't feel cold, just plastic; the inconspicuousness was unsettling.  It felt really odd just having it in the house even though it was closed up in a case tucked away in a closet and we didn't have any ammo.  My husband didn't like how the gun felt either, but how it fired, and it turned out that Cabelas buys weapons, so that was that.  I never fired it.  I didn't wish to fire it at the time, but later on, I regretted missing the chance.

I was passed a few pistols to hold at the party--I knew that they were unloaded but holding them was still so disquieting.  I was really doubting firing one.  But I had to try.

My husband gave me the safety drill and precautions, the sequence of loading and firing and unloading, the proper way to hold the pistol (although there are variations), the proper way to aim.  There's a fair bit to remember, but it was reassuring to learn it.  Then it came time to actually fire it.

This turned out to be actually incredibly simple, and peaceful. 

One dot.

Admittedly, there is a lot to consider when aiming, but when everything else in place, one dot (of the front sight) goes over the target--which shouldn't even be in focus at this point.  There is just one dot.  That's all.

The bang and recoil and smell comes later, after the simple peaceful instant.

I get sort of zen before power cleans--I have to empty my mind before heavier ones, otherwise they don't work.  But the focus prior to firing the pistol was much more intense and exclusive.  I forgot I was human, I forgot I was at a range, I even forgot I was holding a gun at times.  Just one dot.  As if it's the very first living cell of the entire universe.

Honestly, I loved it.  

I hit the paper on the first shot, which was apparently pretty good at that distance for anybody.  I tried a few different pistols and emptied four or five small magazines that afternoon.  No bulleyes, not yet.

I've taken many yoga classes over the years and a common theme has been 'being present'.  Silence the mental chatter, silence the mental chatter, I have continuously failed to silence the mental chatter.  My best efforts have merely muted it for a second or two.  How strange to finally totally shut it up during the antithesis of yoga.