The sun is my deity. As it illuminates my path, it shines upon the dandelions, it shines upon me, indirectly, as I settle in the shade. I watch the rabbit bite off dandelion flowers at the base of their milky stem and slurp them up like spaghetti noodles. It’s just nice to have some help around the house and yard now and then. People talk about collaborations and partnerships, but I don’t feel collaborated and I don’t feel partnered. I am grateful for the rabbit and it’s nice to feel like someone is on my side. I forget about my chores for a moment, have a glass of wine and I recline on the plastic green Muskoka chair; my wine glass is secured in the yellow cup holder that attaches to the chair from which it is sold separately. I feel happy in that moment, the moment where I am feeling a sense of accomplishment and a connection to nature and an awareness that I am moving forward in life. I am have not completely separated myself from me.
I’m getting hungry and I’m feeling distracted. Beneath me I feel an undercurrent of frustration suggesting to me that my consciousness is wading in the wrong stream.
How many times do I have to remind myself about “like” with “like”. I’m letting other people’s drama, other people’s ineffectiveness “like” me and I am not “liking” it back. The law of attraction might find me offensive now; into surrounding myself with the right energy rehab I go. Meanwhile, back at the poop ranch, things are really piling up.
I sit with my Mom, watch the rabbit help in the garden and I take a sip of my wine.
If I find myself swimming and it feels like it’s against the current or if I find myself hiking and it seems that it’s all uphill then my mind has disconnected itself from my body. I can put catastrophizing at the back of the shelf with the other cartons (I downsized my baggage into cartons,) that have passed their expiry date. Self-compassion, mindfulness are wonderful things but they are a practice and for some reason I’ve gotten out of practice lately. There are times when it feels that I am spending more time thinking about my life than actually living it. I open my heart to forgiveness and I wonder why isn’t my heart always open to forgiveness. Why do I wait around for myself to give myself consent?
I observe my thoughts and I see them coming and going through the revolving door. I get stuck in the quicksand even though I now there are easy ways of getting around the pit. I have to say I’ve grown accustomed to being on the fence. Is there a point, where my worries are few and I sit back and watch the stars.
I give myself complete consent to sit out tonight and watch the stars tonight, and every night, starting NOW.
A viable alternative is to sing the Mary Tyler Moore Show theme song and throw my New Orleans Saints baseball cap in the air and sing:
“I’m going to make it after all”.
Rather than exiting through the rabbit hole, I am grateful for the rabbit and we enjoy our dandelion salad together.