One day she's mired in her own lonesome loser story, misunderstood, destined for an obit that reads,
Anita rarely left her living room couch during the long, dark days of New Jersey winters. No one called- she had told them how much she HATED to speak on the phone, after all. No one visited- she had no tolerance for chit chat. No one texted- their busy lives and jobs and friends didnt leave a lot of spare time. Only she had all this time...time...and more time. This endless stream of the ever-present now felt interminable.
Anita was known for her deep faith and relationship with the Christ. She devoured books on spirituality, always searching for the common threads. One day in particular she read in Rolf Gates Meditations on the mat, 'Perfectly balanced, motionless in a yoga posture, we are able to catch a glimpse of the intersection of energy, matter and awareness...connecting to a deeper reality'. And she nearly shouted AHA! in the corner coffee shop as she realized YES, there it is plain as day-- this statement describes the Christ: that place where fully human and fully divine merge. Where matter and energy are ONE...you know, Einstein's God formula E=MC2.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Mama puts on her oxygen mask first
Mama's peace.
Mama's come to recognize the value and necessity of self-nurturance, and homeostasis.
All the accolades and recognition don't mean a hoot if Mama's mind is on the what's missing piece.
The gradual journey home begins with that eensy weensie brave step toward trusting there's a sun behind those clouds. If confusion and emotions are tossing her about, she must get still and lean in, lean into the pain, grief and fear (you know the place we generally and naturally want to run from?).
Maybe, just maybe she is all alone. And if this is truly the case...no one is coming to rescue her, no one is going to turn on a light in the dark, or dry these tears. No distraction, sugary dessert, cocktail or habit is going to make her gray sky blue.
She might just find herself tethered to her own sweet soul.
Mama's come to recognize the value and necessity of self-nurturance, and homeostasis.
All the accolades and recognition don't mean a hoot if Mama's mind is on the what's missing piece.
The gradual journey home begins with that eensy weensie brave step toward trusting there's a sun behind those clouds. If confusion and emotions are tossing her about, she must get still and lean in, lean into the pain, grief and fear (you know the place we generally and naturally want to run from?).
Maybe, just maybe she is all alone. And if this is truly the case...no one is coming to rescue her, no one is going to turn on a light in the dark, or dry these tears. No distraction, sugary dessert, cocktail or habit is going to make her gray sky blue.
She might just find herself tethered to her own sweet soul.
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