In the Moment

IceCreamSky2

At 4:30 this morning I was jarred into awakening by the sound of my currently empty garbage can hurtling across my back porch to points South. (It was placed there as the least likely spot to be pushed around by winds gusting to 50 mph. Clearly, the wind knew better than I.)

And at that pre-dawn hour, when many unwelcome thoughts clamber into our consciousness, a score of them crowded my mind. They all had to do with the future and with things that in all likelihood would never come to pass. But such is the mindset when we are catapulted into wakefulness from a sound sleep.

Some time later, curled up on the couch with my coffee and happily-fed, drowsy cats, I opened up to read from The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo. In language far more poetic than my own, he described the ancient human challenge of staying in the miracle that is and not falling into the black hole of what is not. He provided a simple breathing exercise to let go of all the imagined outcomes that are not yet real. In other words, be in the moment. Perfect.

So this evening, just about 12 hours after my abrupt morning awakening, I was working at my desk. The wind continued to wrestle with the trees and I looked out the window to see the magnificent sky pictured above. At first, I thought to continue my work. Then I realized that that sky was the miracle of now, exactly what I had been reading about and reflecting upon. I chose that moment.

A Few Things I’ve Learned

When we cease to learn, we truly cease to be alive. Along the way, here are a few things I’ve learned:
* If I leave my Sunday paper on the sidewalk where the delivery people toss it long enough, even though that’s all of 20′ from my front door, someone will definitely take it.
Claude-On-Sidechair3* If I don’t keep an eagle-eye on how much water Claude drinks while I’m making coffee/preparing their breakfast and meds – because who knows, maybe last evening was really his last meal EVER – he is sure to anxiously consume copious amounts and promptly throw it up in the only appropriate place, the w/w carpeting upstairs.
* If the barometric pressure changes overnight, I will wake up with a sinus/migraine headache and there is no way of heading it off the night before.
* Having a sufficient supply of eggs, milk and bread on hand is always comforting.
* No matter how nasty symptoms from a virus/cold/flu are, eventually they subside and move out. (The catch is trying to remember that while in the middle of it when all you want to do is sleep until it’s over.)
* The unconditional love of animals is a soothing balm to whatever ails the mind, body and soul.
CloudySunnySky2* Temperatures in the single digits eventually become double again.
* Behind the clouds, fog or overcast skies, the sun is always shining and will bathe us in warmth soon enough.
* Buried in the symptoms that make us feel like crap when we’re ill is always the opportunity to learn, (yet again), that we are always safe and loved no matter how we feel. A challenge, yes, but still an opportunity.

A Big Shout Out in the Big Chill

LineWorkers2Something I heard on the radio really jumped out at me this morning. A dockworker called in to the show I listen to, talking about the men who work all night long loading and unloading cargo containers, right next to the frigid waters, making it even colder. In this part of the world we are experiencing the coldest temperatures we’ve seen in three years, and while we sit warm at our desks or run errands in our heated cars, lots of folk are out there in this making their living.

I thought today to give a shout out to all those who work outside in these freezing temperatures, so here’s my thanks – and I’m sure I speak for all of us – to: line workers and those who keep our heat, electricity, phones and cell phones working; dockworkers and truckers who keep everything we need coming and going; police, fire and EMT personnel who are out whenever duty calls, school crossing guards, animal control officers who rescue animals from freezing to death; health care workers who make sure the elderly and incapacitated have heat and food; mail carriers; delivery people; construction crews; and anyone I may have missed.

Thanks for keeping our world safe and moving along.

The Longest Months

It’s about now, towards the end of January and all through February … and OK, through much of March … that seem to be the longest months. Despite the fact that the days are getting longer, the sun rising earlier and there now being light at 5 p.m., it feels like the darkest part of the year. Some call it the Winter blues or the Winter blahs.

The holidays are over, and for those of us who don’t care about football there’s not much exciting going on … just a wait until Spring. So I remind myself, that even though it’s cold there, too, there is still phenomenal beauty around us. Somewhere, (in this case, Canada), the aurora borealis is dancing ….

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And somewhere, here Hawaii, the sun is bright and the water is calling.

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And somewhere, right in our own hearts and homes, there is still warmth and love and creativity and reason to celebrate the winter. Whether it’s curled up by a fire or in front of the TV, making a pot of soup or doing a jigsaw with the family, each day is new and holds the promise of some small wonder. We’re called upon, as always, to be in the present, and not spend our time waiting for something to come. It’s already here.

Open the door and welcome it in.

Toni Morrison’s Paradise

Paradise-ToniMorrison2Paradise is the first book I’ve read by Toni Morrison, and I can assure you I will read more. In fact, it’s hard for me to not go back and re-read this book right now.

Here’s a couple things I can tell you – do not read this book late at night when you’re tired; do not put it down for extended periods of time and think you will be able to easily jump right back in; and do not read it when distracted. Here’s why. Toni Morrison assumes you’re paying attention. Her characters are complex as is the storyline … there’s a lot to remember … a lot you want to remember when you’re reading Paradise. This is not light reading, but it is a truly amazing read.

Toni Morrison’s use of language is exquisite; I was thrilled repeatedly with the beauty of how she chooses and uses words. Her characters are so real I wanted to either step in the pages to be with them or have them come and sit down by me and talk; tell me about their lives and how they changed being in Ruby, OK; how they changed living in the Convent with Connie and the other women; tell me more.

The storyline of Paradise is of a group of ex-slaves freed from Louisiana and Mississippi who, rejected by their fairer skinned brethren and terrified by whites, set up their own community deep in the Oklahoma country, self-sufficient and proud. The history of their forefathers was revered and their insular lives safe. Safe except for the women who had come to live at the Convent – women whose lives had been torn apart by suffering at one time or another and who made their way, tried to heal, in this isolated home outside town. Paradise is, in part, about what happens when people come to see others the same way they once were viewed and what they do about it. And, in part, about redemption and finding one’s place in the world.

This is far, far, far too simplistic a summary of this extraordinary novel. If you want to be immersed in another time and place, in the lives of people so real it can be painful, perhaps Paradise is for you. I’m not sure what I can read right after this that will not pale beside it.