You'll Have Time

Do you have those days? You know...Those days?


The ones where your head and heart are wrapped around some family drama, some slight, or minor heartbreak. Hell, maybe it's even a major heartbreak, but certainly not one worthy of consuming you heart, mind, and soul. Yet, there you go, deep in the spiral of fear, worry, anxiety, anger, frustration, and utter annoyance. And then when you least expect it there's one. more. thing. That thing. The thing. The straw that breaks the camel's back thing. And when it happens you lose it, bursting into tears or shouting in rage. Naturally whatever that thing is, it's something that you normally wouldn't waste the energy to bat an eyelash at. But there you go... all red-faced and weepy, face wrenched in torment and anger.


I had one of those days last week. I'd received a phone call from a friend that put me on edge and had me feeling anxious and worried. Cooper came down with vestibular disease and I was afeared for his life*, Scott was out of the country for work and I was single-parenting it for the week and feeling a little lonesome, too. I felt like I was going to come out of my skin, had a million and one things I wanted to accomplish, was feeling angry and frustrated by the redistricting situation in my county, and was teetering on the edge.


When Beckett decided to fingerpaint on the kitchen table with his yogurt and dipped his brother's Field Day ribbons (which were on the table because I was cleaning out our kitchen closet!) in the yogurt, I was annoyed and told him he had to clean it up. I walked over to the sink to gather the cleaning supplies. When I turned around, Beckett was perched on the table, right smack dab in the middle of his strawberry yogurt masterpiece. Naturally, as one is wont to do on a bad day, I burst into tears thinking "Why does everything have to suck for me right now?"


That's the moment when everything changed... when I saw through knowing eyes and heard through truthful ears. Beckett looked at me with the sweetest, most quizzical smile, and said, "It's okay, Mommy. I'm not dying."


And so, from the mouth of my babe, Wisdom. Beautiful, profound, simple truth. "I'm not dying." What could be worse than that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My sweetest little one is healthy and happy and so is his brother. Their dad, my partner and friend, the man I love is home, safe, from the other side of the world and he is loved beyond measure. Maybe there are things I'd change in my life, but the fundamentals, the stuff that really matters is all pretty awesome.


As I fell to the kitchen floor laughing, a prayer of thanksgiving in my heart, I reminded myself that yes, Life is truly good.




*Cooper's bloodwork came back showing he has a low thyroid which can cause Vestibular Disease in dogs. He started the medicine on Tuesday and by Thursday could walk on his own without my help and by today, one week from its onset is able to go up and down steps without help although he's still a bit shaky and still has a slight head tilt. He's definitely doing much better.

Pressed in a Book

Someone recommended a book to me yesterday. It's called The Dance. The best I can tell it's written a woman who, shall we say, is a bit..open-minded?

It's written by this woman named Oriah. For a while, she had adopted the surname Mountain Dreamer which she had been given during a shamanic retreat. She used it until she grew tired of explaining that she was not Native American nor was it a stage name. Anyway, she sounds like a bit of a kook, but being somewhat open-minded, i.e., kooky, myself, I thought I'd read a bit of it and see what I thought. In the meantime, I found this bit of wisdom on her web site and I actually agree with it. I thought I'd share it. It's not any great insight if you've given any thought to the issue, but I do believe most of us tend to avoid those of us who are different. Hell, I even state my avoidance of "the different" as I discuss the very topic here. I was afraid to read this book because I thought it was too new-agey for me; I'd be embarrassed to admit that I'd read a book by one-named woman who considers herself an outside influence.

Of course, when I admit to you what convinced me to read the book, you'll think I'm a nut. The excerpt from one of her books that is on her web site talks about her four-year old son Brendan who was a bit of an unusual child, apparently. He got in trouble in kindergarten for not coloring his pictures the colors his teacher thought they should be or something like that. This spoke to me, obviously, because I have a four-year old son named Brendan who is a bit of a character himself. However, it also got me because my mother got called to the school and I got called out in class in front of all the other kids because I colored my barn purple when we were coloring a barnyard scene in class. I was the only kid who used a color other than red for the barn and my teacher yelled at me for it. Told me it was wrong. So, I really related to the story about her son.

Anyway, here's the other bit that spoke to me....

One of the easiest and most enjoyable ways to become aware of your conditioned way of seeing, to open to new perceptions, is to spend time with people who see things differently than you do. Most of us spend time with people who share our worldview, people who think and see in similar ways. It gives us comfort to have the authority of our experience reinforced by another's experience. Being with those who have had different experiences and so see differently not only opens us to new perceptions but helps us become aware of our habitual blinders.

I think almost every one of us can benefit from that little bit of knowledge.