It’s interesting how we feel the passing of time. In a week that seemed pretty long, I found no time to pray. It wasn’t until I was sitting in a chair, alone in my daughter’s hospital room waiting for her return, that I found myself alone and feeling that utter hopelessness that makes one wish that they were a child again. I wanted someone other than me to make the difficult decisions. I wanted a crystal ball filled with the outcomes of every possible choice, a heads up and a clear picture of what would happen if…It sucks to be the adult. I wanted to be the child again, forced to go on with the plans of the others, and somehow oblivious to the workings of the grown up world. I remember thinking, “I need some help here!” And then I began to pray. I asked for nothing specific really, just some help, guidance, and a chance to breathe. Just a single moment of freedom from THIS. Recently I read that in Buddhism the essence of equanimity is in part defined as “to stand in the middle of this.” I wanted to stand in the middle of this and feel some equanimity. And slowly it came. Not complete, but enough. Enough was all I needed. I disappoint myself when I forget to pray. It’s like forgetting to breathe, and yet I notice I forget to do just that when I am stressed. Prayer and breathe go hand in hand for me. I am slowly learning how to stand, in the middle of this, with some assurance that all is as should be.
there are no answers
from the Gospel of Thomas
trouble finds a home in my body
It’s raining again, a lot. I bundled up in my all my rain gear and took Luka for her walk this morning..no running, I just wanted to walk. There were no other dogs at either of the parks, no one else braving the down pour, but it was nice all the same. I haven’t been feeling the loneliness that has been my constant companion these past few months. Perhaps a small piece of that lies in the fact that I have family visiting, but I think there is more to it. This last month has brought me face to face with my unhealthy patterns. I’ve countered that with a new practice of being completely honest with myself. And truth with oneself creates less heartache. People often talk about personal growth in spiritual practice. I am not looking “to grow” or change, I only want to discover and be who I am.
This morning I went for a nice, long run in the rain with my dog. I’ve been running enough lately that I’ve gotten to the place where my running is effortless and I feel as if I could go forever. Today was especially sweet because spring is incredible this year. The dogwoods are at their peak right now, and there are so many flowers, it’s a banquet for the eyes and nose. As Luka and I made our way home, we ran down a small path alongside the golf course. It began to rain heavily but the air was so warm (and I was even warmer), and I remember thinking very clearly, “life is good.” My life is good; sometimes I let myself forget that. Tonight my sister and daughter will be arriving in town, one coming from the west, the other from the east. Tomorrow, my niece will come, from the north. We don’t get to spend a lot of time together, but somehow the stars aligned just so, and we have a week together. Life is good.