Ah, today. Today was wonderful. It rained. I worked. I cried a few times before, during, and after work. I reconnected with a woman I met years ago at Pearson Airport while waiting for a flight to Manchester. She’s from Shrewsbury and told me to keep trying to get to jolly ole! I almost hurled half a dozen times but enjoyed a grande no foam soy latte in spite of my queasy stomach. Kali ate half my dinner straight off the kitchen counter. I was offered asylum by two people who care about me. I had a brief but stimulating e-chat with a glorious goddess whose wish for me was sweet dreams. I realized I’m terrified, scared to the bone, of being stone cold broke.
Okay, that’s the condensed version and there’s more coming because although it’s closing in on 10PM, I’ve still things to do. Not miles to go, but yes, things to do. The least of which is writing a hope filled, light inspired blog entry. Without further adieu, I’ll give it a go.
The conversation with the goddess mentioned above reminded me of something, a point I’m pretty sure I’ve wanted to make but haven’t. If I have, I’ll try to reiterate it in such a surprising way, you’ll not recognise it.
When chatting, we hit upon the topic of repeating mistakes. She thought we probably do it a lot. I felt better for her saying that let me tell you. She also admitted coming to the realisation that there might be traps set in the self-help aisles. Seriously, once you start, where does it end? It’s like plastic surgery for the soul; you keep heading back for a tweak here, and a slight reconfiguration there, and before you know it you’re an unrecognisable mess.
That’s when the spark ignited. We cannot sweat the small stuff, I thought. There is intrinsic beauty in our authentic yet silly, not always on our best behaviour, selves. For example, I talk too much. I know, hard to believe, but it is true. I sometimes speak out of turn, say the wrong thing, and offend. But here’s the important part – it is not intentional. Forgive thyself and move on, I say! Likewise with tons of behaviours. They make up who we are. Loving ourselves means simply that.
But now here’s the crux. I’m not suggesting we stay the same, act the same, in everything. What I’m calling the small stuff are those personality traits that belong to us. Some of these might be habits, others instinctive responses that sort of mimic breathing. Whatever the case, these actions project the innocent self, not the self that needs a tweak, or even a bigger alteration. Achieving Zen will not likely be impeded by me shooting my mouth off. It will, however, be unattainable if I cannot forgive myself and others.
Adjustments to the soul come at a cost. The cost is high because it means separating ourselves from worry, drama, and the ego. (Ah ha, that’s the first time I’ve written that word.) Easier said than done, but it can be done, and sometimes without all the pain and angst that wonderful old ego wants us to believe we must associate with change. How?
Change comes when we sit back and allow it. It’s like all the great wisdom teachers tell us, “be still and know”. Also, it’s helps if we acknowledge there is no such thing as perfection. There are just days when screaming doesn’t help and killing someone isn’t an option. It’s called life. Life is. And what it is isn’t always pretty or kind or gentle – or is it?
Tonight my wish is to share with all of you, her wish for sweet dreams. Sleep is an awesome thing. While drifting in that altered state of consciousness, our mind and body rejuvenates itself, rebuilds and strengthens its cells. Sleep is restorative. In stage five, our minds dream. Truly, as in life, some of the images are not sweet but instead, disturbing. But they are dreams. We also have our waking dreams. Both are equally important to our health and well-being. And both are best reflected upon, remembered, and cherished when we are still. In that stillness, the dreams we hold dear, will tell us what we need to know.
I’m dreaming sweetly until tomorrow…