Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Ego's velvet handcuffs...

Some days, ego is harder to rein in than others. It's especially meddlesome when you see it happening, feel the physical effects of it, and yet the Soul is still trapped by the velvet confines of comfort and is unable to redirect. However, just by becoming aware of the duality of our nature, the jailer slowly moves to hand over the keys and allows our true selves to break free...

Valentine's Day is just one of those days that seems to bring out the worst in people. Many feel obligated by the commercialization of it to buy things that they don't think about or need, and others actively distance themselves by proclaiming it a "waste of time and money". I swing both ways, unfortunately, which makes it a challenge to stay centered. While we had a relatively blissful evening filled with a lovely shared meal, notes of gratitude in our homemade Valentine bags, and treats for the kids, I couldn't help but wonder if I would get some special little surprise. My husband's firmly in the latter category, and so for the past 20 years, the holiday was largely ignored other than some festivities geared towards the children and the occasional bundle of flowers that I would buy for myself.

If only my damned ego would have kept quiet, it would have been a perfect day.

After all, my husband shows me love in a myriad of ways, too many to mention, honestly. But I had just performed a wedding in the morning, resigned from a job that should have been a perfect fit, and turned down one that would have required a LOT of reframing to find enthusiasm for. All of which left me feeling vulnerable, drained, curious about what's next, and untethered. And that's not a good combination for remaining stoic.

It's never been about the cost of goods. Women want romance. To this day, the very best "present" I've ever received, no matter the holiday, is the tree with a bright green ribbon tied around it. It told me that my heart had been heard, nurtured, and honored. I can go for a walk in the park any time I want and spend time with this special tree.

When I realized that I wasn't going to get a present of any type this year, I found myself in an honest-to-goodness juvenile meltdown. Passive-aggressive behavior was showing up everywhere, and it was really difficult for me to watch as my inner observer would fade in and out, trying in vain to remind me of what was truly important. Some perspective was reached, but ego is a cruel master and doesn't let go of the keys easily. It's very much like being on a ferris wheel...you get on, thinking that you'll enjoy the view from the top, but then you get stuck for a while. You get nervous, wondering if you'll ever get down, and then you gradually return to the beginning point. Eventually, you're allowed to exit the ride, only to come back for another later on. The size of my ferris wheel is gradually shrinking, but every now and then, I forget and get back on the big one. At least it has velvet seats... :)

Monday, February 7, 2011

Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink...

Well, not out of our taps, anyway. The Dallas area became a literal ice rink last week, just in time to welcome the visitors to the Super Bowl festivities. By some fluke, we had the good fortune to be visited by a lovely ice clog that prevented any water from entering our house for 3 1/2 days.

It felt much longer.

We still have no idea where the pipes were clogged. Nothing frozen on the inside of the house, no way of knowing where on the outside, just...nothing. Last year, the lake froze but our pipes were fine. This year, the exact opposite. But I guess that's they whimsy that Mother Nature loves so much! At least She provided 6" of snow on Friday for us to harvest and use the melt to flush our toilets. We felt a bit like pioneers doing that, I must say, though the intrepid souls who went out West didn't have pantries full of food, plenty of heated comfort around, and blazing fast internet.

What I was struck the most by during the time of water shortage was how empty the house felt.

Sure, going without a shower for a couple of days while waiting for the roads to become passable again was inconvenient, but the fact that there was no tap flowing made the whole place feel derelict, decrepit, and just plain sad. Even the warmth of the fireplace barely cut through the gasping feeling that one gets when holding your breath for too long. Or maybe it was the open cabinet doors and all of the water jugs lining the countertops...regardless, the combination was like a one-two punch to our psyches. Gratefully, we accepted offers of showers, laundry services, and any other comforts that we thought we needed. But when it comes right down to it, this brief moment of discomfort brought a valuable lesson to all of us.

Water is precious.

One gallon of water isn't much for bathing, but can get the job done. One gallon of water doesn't come close to flushing a toilet effectively. One gallon of water will, if carefully rationed, wash the dinner dishes, though not as well as I'm used to. And one gallon looks mighty puny when you finally slake your thirst.

I thought that we had been pretty good at conserving our natural resources, but when you have to carry each precious drop across town over ice-covered roads, one begins to analyze the usage very carefully. Does this really need washing? Is hand sanitizer OK or do I need soap? Does that plant REALLY need water? How long can we go without flushing? In fact, that last question was the one that was the most challenging. Thank you, Mr. Crapper, for inventing the flush toilet!

The gurgle that heralded the return of our easy access to H2O was met with elation, and a deep appreciation of our blessings. After all, living with limited access to water is the norm for millions, and access to clean, abundant water is but a dream for even more. Thank you, you life-giving font, for continuing to bless us abundantly.

And the pipes? Perfectly intact, thank you very much! WooHOO!!!