Sometimes I find when I'm walking or dreaming or engaged in yoga postures or some other sort of potentially (and hopefully) meditative state, my brain will go a mile a minute with all sorts of ideas, revelations, conclusions, and other ground breaking (at least they seem ground breaking at the time) thoughts. And then, due to my own amnesiac mind, as quickly as they'd floated through my consciousness, my incredibly insightful, wise original mantra or amazingly funny joke or cutting edge invention or the answer to one of life's little riddles vaporizes back into the ether of my mind. It's happened so often I am neither surprised nor disappointed anymore.
So I started this blog, in part, as a means to capture some of these little pearls before they slip back into oblivion, gleaming whatever it is I am meant to gleam and sharing it with anyone who happens to come across my writings. I'm very humble regarding whatever wisdom I may have to impart upon myself and/or others. I mean really....it's not like I have extensive education or some sort of intuitive gift or healing powers or insight. I'm not from a long lineage of natural healers or yogis or especially sensitive or proactive people...at least not that I know of....in fact, I often step back in amazement at how paths take certain directions, mine included.
BRIEF BIOGRAPHYI am the product of Russian and Polish Jewish immigrant grandparents who produced my parents: a depression era WW2 veteran dad, and a mom who never even finished high school due to family issues that she has never really completely divulged with me. My parents were in their 40s when I was born....dad traveled, mom didn't drive, and my 3 older brothers were nearly all adults. I was a 1965 baby raised like a baby boomer in some ways, though really, I always felt "in between" generations. Too old to be Generation X...whatever that is...and too young to be a real boomer kid.
My parents didn't know what to do with me...my brothers were raised in a different era...the 50s and 60s...and here I was, the little "princess" my mom had hoped for one day...who became a wild hippie-disco-punker-grown-up-wannabe by about the age of 12. Definitely not what they'd bargained for. By the age of 13 or 14, most my friends were in their late teens, even early twenties, and I was enjoying the club scene of Atlanta in the 1970s. Age 15, my beau was 24...graduated a year and a half early in 1982 at the impressionable age of 16, moved in with the beau, and began college a month before my 17th birthday. I was a little chubby, frizzy haired Jewish girl who dropped out of Hebrew school by age 8 or so, battled with body image and food issues from as early as I remember, and always felt displaced somehow. If I had to pinpoint an overlying feeling from around age 7 to my mid teens, it would be that I just wanted to hurry up and be a grown up. So that's what I did...at least to some degree.
To spare the reader (are you out there...anyone?) all the (sometimes/often sordid) details...somewhere along the way, I went from this kid acting out and hanging out with all the "old" 20 something year olds to being a middle age woman with an adult kid in college living a pretty simple and, for the most part, a calm and quiet, non-drama-filled life. Just as my parents probably thought, as I was going through my wild years, "where did this kid come from?"....I often wonder, after my own tumultuous (at times) past and my many less than optimal decisions, how I ended up with the amazingly intelligent, level headed son who has graced me with his existance. I do have a feeling my wonderment has a bit more of a positive slant than that of my parents. If my father was still alive, I'm sure I'd feel compelled to express my gratitude for his patience and support as well as seek ways to make amends for all those gray hairs I am certain I helped produce.
END OF BIOGRAPHY...FOR NOW
So here I am...officially a "grown up"...nearly 45 years old. Being a grown up, and actually acting like one, of course, are two entirely separate matters. I admit it...while I may not throw tantrums or whine or cry or obsess over things as I may have done as a child...often my first thought IS to do those things. Luckily the "grown up" status hits me, and all the events, thoughts, decisions, and experiences that happened to this point, help me to actually act more prudently or at least come from a place of awareness and miindfulness. I may be compassionate and patient today, at least more often than not; however, it's not always my first thought. Okay...it's not even always my second or third thought either.
In the past several weeks, I have witnessed the birth and growth and departure of baby robins, spent time with my son for what felt like a nanosecond before I said goodbye to him as he left for Europe for the summer, enjoyed all the lovely blooms of hydrangeas, rhododendrons, mums, gardenias, lilies, peonies, bee balm, asters, the shared organic produce from my friends next door, had a very negative and somewhat scary altercation in traffic with a very large male county worker, taught a lot of yoga classes, enjoyed my friends' wedding, made progress towards finishing my studies towards my holistic nutrition consultant certification, said good bye and, to be honest, with all due respect, good riddance to a housemate, and adopted a beautiful orange tabby cat whom I named Leonidas (also the name of some amazing Belgian chocolates).
My story is far from unique or unusual..other than the fact that it's mine and no one else's. And during the flow (hence the title for this blog post...flow is both a noun and a verb in this context), a few themes have cropped into my mind....not necessarily original or new and definitely not especially wise or ground breaking...just helpful to me in the moment. One...as my current facebook status recently stated: things just always seem to work out...even when it doesn't seem that way at the moment. Another, when a situation comes up that is unnerving or upsetting, rarely is it a lasting feeling or really more than a "blip" once it can be simply observed...this is what I experienced after the traffic situation. Still another...if I actually practice the act of compassion and patience, I can view someone in an entirely different light. Again, in regards to the road-rage incident...I discovered this employee was retiring about an hour after we had our heated interaction. Evidently, he was a live wire and had many years of frustration and energy to dump...I happened to be there at the time and really, it had little to do with me. I wish him the best...I really do.
A couple more pearls before my amnesia sets back in...worrying is a worthless medium, anger is not productive (though acknowledging it, processing and releasing is imperative in order to move on), and a smile can change the world.
Oh yeah...for today...I AM enough.
Now...to see if any of the blueberries have ripened in the aftermath of a rainy and sunny weekend.
...to be continued.....
Alex (in the booth) and a friend in London