A lot has happened since July, but that is the truth of anyone without possession of a time-stopping device or Alzheimer’s. Mostly, I have been rethinking life, reprogramming myself, and meditating.
Not meditating under a Joshua tree or a Bikram yoga loft in SoHo. Conscious breathing has had nothing to do with it; in fact every so often I tense up and have to remind myself to take breath.
Detachment was not based on the abandonment of materialism and flings with Nirvana but via a process of learnt humility. Rather, the allowance of giving my self permission to accept that there are things beyond my control, to let go of more, and have faith in that the universe has an incredible knack for provision.
Provision oddly enough occurs when one has apparently lost all hope. It seems that faith to the faithful works like that of an ethereal pituitary gland; just when you feel you have no where else to turn and are at your wits end about to go Faust, the universe responds with a fresh dose of answered prayers.
Prayers by the way are also not offered according to the letter of the supplicant but rather as a series of opportunities that one must be attuned to pick up on and respond to.
Exemplum hodiernus:
Prayer:
Oh Lord, please bless me with a break from work in a cooler place; make be braver, more warm hearted, selfless, open-minded and bring someone into my life.
Answer:
You get stuck in an unheated elevator on your way to work, with a mange stray kitten and wait all morning for the fire department while dealing with your claustrophobia.
How it works:
Four hours later you are rescued and you call the office to explain and are given the rest of what would have been a 13 hour work day off; you were given the opportunity of compassion which you responded to by keeping the kitten warm; answering your desire for warm-heartedness.
You become more open minded during the second hour when you decided that cats weren’t so bad after all. The selfless thing was answered when you decided to adopt the feral flee bag.
After 45 min of claustrophobic hyperventilation, you realize that you are going nowhere soon and have to learn that tight spaces other than those found in a significant other aren’t as bad as your Freudian short comings make them out to be, but that is yet to be seen considering the cute EMT who slipped you his/her cell phone number.
Halleluiah…?
