Day 30 Wrap
First, I am not Eckhart Tolle.
Second, despite the allure and desire to emulate Tolle’s A New Earth-style life, it’s not the right time for me. In theory, the concept is lovely; in reality, it’s difficult as hell. As much as I’d love to slip away from the real world and its circumstances, it ain’t happening anytime soon.
Third, while I’m not going to attain a full-time mystical state anytime soon, I am grateful for the moments when I know–really know–that I’m a human be-ing rather than a human do-ing.
Despite these realizations, I consider this month of attempting to steadily focus on 30 Days of Presence a resounding success.
You may recall that prior to September 1, I experienced a heavenly Saturday with no established plans and decisions made completely on the fly. That day was truly one of the best I had lived in quite a long time. So I mistakenly thought I could have a whole month of those days. A part of me hoped that if I could simply stay “in the moment,” the entire month of September would be one long, deep sigh of bliss. I thought simplicity equaled serenity.
Instead, I came to understand that one’s life can be stress-filled, complicated and even messy and still be serene. In this last 30 days, I experienced the incredible gift of living life on life’s terms and being present. I re-experienced the joy of going within during chaos and finding a calm center. I felt fully the excruciating pain of traveling deeper into grief. A beautiful little tossed-away dog found her way into my heart and filled an aching need for canine love.
And if all that wasn’t enough, I designed and ordered a black and gold, single-speed cruiser bicycle. Remember Rule 62? A girl’s gotta have fun too!
Both dog and bike pictures will come around soon. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this picture: Yesterday afternoon I had several errands to run. Simple stuff, none of the stops involved much time or effort. As I recall, it was library, vet, bank and dentist’s office in that order. Then I got take-out food to take home. While stopped at a red light on the drive back, I glanced over at the passenger seat of my car. And started laughing.
Who would believe the fruits of my afternoon outing sitting next to me? Several borrowed books, a deposit slip, the boxed ashes of my cat, Dallas, and the casted moldings of my upper and lower teeth, along with an acrylic mouth guard.
And don’t forget the take-out.
Why would anyone not want to be present to that crazy combination? That’s my life, in thriving technicolor.