Saturday, August 18, 2007
Back, with orchids blooming
Back in New York... the sprites of breezes too early to belong to Autumn, but flirting with her; overgrown gardens, ripe tomatoes, scraped cars. Immediately, I am immersed in my usual community, rather than the alternate one of Shanghai. Immediately, I am reminded of how one's whole life is made up of relationships.
And all of that is food.
I'm jet lagged today and my usually nimble mind is a bit slow. I see how my parts are disconnected, how it is somewhat difficult to bring the various centers to each other. Chemistry gets discombobulated when physical, organic time is set against itself. This reminds me of how much we rely on chemistry itself for our daily bread.
How do we feed ourselves? What do we feed ourselves with? If we begin to sense the finer vibrations within each moment, I think the understanding of life as food deepens. This act of constantly ingesting life becomes more joyful.
For example: last night, pulling into the driveway after about 2 hrs of sleep in a 27-hour day, I had a fleeting impression of the back end of my Prius and though to myself, "Hey. My car has been in an accident." Then, as we passed the back end, and no real damage seemed evident, I thought to myself, "......nah. I'm just overtired."
Fast forward to this morning. The car had been in an accident (what incredible, subliminal part of my overtired brain had detected those front-end scrapes in murky darkness?) courtesy of my overconfident 16 year old son, Adriaan. There I am, fresh home from Asia, and part of me is pissed. This happened, like, Monday, and no one told me.
Or Neal. Nice, eh?
The other part of me- the part that is not so identified, let's call it part B-is watching. While the upset part cranks up the emotional levels and turns on the hormones, part B is saying. "Whoa, check it out, dude. Look at what's happening."
Meanwhile, Part A is emoting. Whining. Doing the usual part A crap. It looks like about $2000 worth of damage, based on my last scraper. Not to mention the fact that Neal left the window in the car down, it rained last night, and her purse--which for mysterious reasons seems to have a good deal of composted landfill in it-- spilled, coating the floor of the passenger side with enough mulch for a small flower bed. This is adding-insult-to-injury stuff, my friends.
...Remember that Kubrick classic, "The Shining?"
...Always liked that movie
...Excuse me, while I reach for the axe.
Part B, just because it's there, puts a wrench in the gears. It's saying, "Hey, no problemo. We can deal with this. Just keep cool, find out what happened, don't go ballistic." Part B isn't reacting... it's....
where I am and what's happening.
It's having breakfast.
...Lo and behold. Part B wins! I negotiate the emotional minefields, discuss the matter with Adriaan and Melanie (our resident single mom, who was in the car with him when the evil crime took place) and off we go to do morning shopping.
I don't even feel that bad.
There's something in me that is all right with all of this. And that is the part that is fed by something finer.
In all of this, within this morning, there is an emotional equilibrium that overcomes the negativity. And I think this is the point I keep making about feeding ourselves properly in an emotional sense, by fostering a greater inner unity.
So--if things are bad, hang in there. Stick with part B.
It gets better.
May your trees bear fruit and your wells yield water.