The Pearl

When did “present moment living” take up residence? I’m not certain. During the past two years it’s dropped in and visited. Unexpectedly at first, but a welcome surprise of unparalleled experience. It’s like the infatuation stage of love. Everything looks different, smells different, tastes different, colors shine brighter, meaning becomes obvious, street signs look foreign and new, the world opens before your eyes in a way it has never done before. Did I mention the peacefulness? Oh it is truly blissful I’ll even say “to die for.” Turns out you don’t have to.

I want it to stay forever when it comes, but like a rootless drifter it arrives and leaves on its own schedule. Eventually, I do start sensing its pending arrival. I notice the signs and start inviting it with my best “come hither” and am blessed with remarkable experiences of vividly amazing days that eventually grow into weeks. But still it continues to slip away in the night without so much as a post-it note. But now my unpredictable houseguest/friend has officially moved in and I couldn’t be happier, seriously, no seriously! Its presence is glaringly obvious this holiday season.

I no longer argue with the reality of “what is.” Bob had surgery. I’m not a hero or superhuman. Yes, I am brave and happy for that. But I don’t have to attach a story to it, I simply experience it, lived it, and it’s manageable. Just like not going home for Christmas. Several times, I have been tempted to attach a story to it like that “for fifty-seven years I've spent the holidays with my family” making it BIG. But when I'm present and experience it without a story, it’s not big or sad. It’s actually very peaceful. Like the oyster, I have rubbed up against enough sand that a metamorphosis has occurred and something beautiful has been created inside of me. I always thought acceptance involved the surrendering of your power. It turns out that it involves the surrendering of your stories and the acceptance of your power. “Who knew?

My Achilles HeaI

I’m good on my feet and now I’m good to my feet, but I wasn’t always. I took them for granted. I expected them to get me from point A to point B no questions asked, until the day they didn’t.

The day that I stepped on a far too tight muscle, once too often, and pain ensued. The day that with the pain came a message, a reminder of sorts about how a single part effects the whole. The day that the awareness hit me like a freight train that healing comes in its own time on its own schedule not mine.

Now, every day, I wake up slowly languishing in bed for a few moments connecting to my body and spirit, stretching lightly from head to toe, paying special attention to my feet.

I know they intend to support me, but now EVERY DAY I remind myself it’s a two-way street, I must support them, too.

Surrender Is Not a Cinch

A part of what I am learning and writing about is surrende. Not surrender as in defeat, surrender as in acceptance of “what is.” Living without the expectation that things should be different than they are.

Some say that when you stop needing something you get it. That seems to cynical to me. I think that when you release your attachment to needing something, you may still want it, it often manifests.

Here’s an example. You’ll laugh when you realize that this is about Cinch glass cleaner. I have love, love, love this cleaner. The smell is so clean and it doesn’t streak and leaves countertops sparkling, need I say more.

Last winter the two stores where I buy it stopped carrying it and couldn't special order it for me.

So what did I do? I Googled searched it and found it was available but only to large janitorial supply customers. So I forgot about it for a while, but like a pesky itch, I knew that I would eventually scratch it again.

This week I could resist no longer. Again I Googled it. This time I found it from an online retailer but the shipping costs were more than the product. I have an aversion to that, so I bailed. I decided that I was delaying the inevitable, I surrendered.

But didn't completely give up. I found a website that told me that the main ingredient in Cinch was (Isopropanol a.k.a alcohol) and they listed a glass cleaner with Isopropanol in it.

With the surrender to my obsession with Cinch behind me, the hunt was on for the new similar formula product. Some might say this was a replaced obsession, and they could be right. After searching in five different stores, I began to doubt this product’s existence. I decide to check one more store before surrendering completely.

I scan the shelves, no sighting of the new product, damn. I turn to leave and the heavens open and choirs of angels sing and out of the corner of my eye glowing on the bottom shelf I SEE CINCH! I am so excited you would think I’d won the lottery. This orange trophy is more valuable to me than an Academy Award. I buy all the bottles I can carry (four).

I need to practice this surrender thing. My Cinch quest lasted six months, that’s a long time to devote to a glass cleaner, but in my defense it isn’t just ANY glass cleaner.