Friday, April 15, 2011

Freaky Friday


"When you're in a body, you just never know what kind of day it's going to be." 


Last Friday we were heading out of town to go clamming. I had a long list of things to do before we left and what I thought was JUST ENOUGH time to do them.  

As usual, The Universe had other plans.

This was my list:
  • drop the kids off at school
  • get shellfish license
  • go food shopping
  • finish packing
  • make pumpkin bread
  • get ready for work

And all of this had to happen between 9:00 am and 1:00 pm when I had to work.

Over breakfast that morning my husband suggested that perhaps this list was just a tad ambitious and that maybe, just maybe, I should revise my expectations a bit. Specifically he felt that "make pumpkin bread" needed to be removed.

At first I resisted, I had a PLAN - drop the kids at school, run home and get the car, drive to the sporting goods store near the grocery store and get the shellfish license, do a quick shop (30 minutes was my goal), run home and put the groceries away, make the pumpkin bread and while it's baking finish packing then get ready and leave for work by 12:30 - what could possibly go wrong???

The first part went well, dropped the kids off and then got the car and headed to the sporting goods store. This was where things started to fall apart.

I parked on the street and went to use one of those parking meters that prints you a little sticker to post on your window. The machine was not accepting debit cards. I put my debit card in multiple times and nothing.

I ran back to the car to scavenge for some change, to no avail. Once these machines became standard issue in our area I had stopped collecting change for parking in my car. I rarely keep change in my purse either, but I rummaged around and managed to come up with $.25, just enough for twelve minutes. It would have to do.

Things went smoothly at the sporting goods store until it was time to pay. I couldn't find my debit card. I looked and I looked and I looked, but it was not in my purse.

Had I left it in the machine? But that was impossible, the whole problem was that the machine wouldn't take my debit card. Still, I was convinced I had left it in the broken slot or worse, just dropped in on the ground.

Comforting myself with the fact that going into work later meant I could get it blocked and replaced right away, I pulled out my credit card, paid for the fishing license and ran to the parking machine to look for my debit card. Not there.

I looked in the car and on the ground around the car. Not there.

Finally I decided it must be in my purse so I started going through it systematically and - whew! - there was my debit card tucked in with my cash from when I had been searching for change.

Crisis averted. Time to move on to the next thing. There was still hope for the pumpkin bread at this point, but it was fading fast.

Drove to the store and pulled into the parking lot. There was my friend who works at the store gathering up grocery carts. Stopped to chat for a few minutes, knowing this was further depleting my pumpkin bread making time, but not wanting to give him short shrift because he is always so welcoming whenever he sees me.

Grabbed a cart and headed into the store. And there, walking into the store at the very same moment, was someone I used to know. 

This was not a relationship that had ended well; rather one that ended with harsh words, hurt feelings, and screeching tires.

We looked at each other, looked away, and looked back again.

"You're _______," I said, questioningly.

"You're _______," he replied, knowingly.


We chatted, caught up, I met his kids (they were charming and lovely) and we went our separate ways.

I was a little bit in shock. I had always imagined that one day I would run into this person, despite my having moved away from the town where we knew each other many years ago. I just had a feeling....but still it was startling to have it actually happen, and especially on this day when I was trying to get. Everything. Done.

After that I gave up on the pumpkin bread and just wandered around the store processing this blast from the past.

I was also texting a friend of mine from that time (the friend who I had just gone to Paris with) who was kind enough to share my shock over this unexpected encounter.

As I stepped up to the refrigerator section I heard the "ting" indicating a new text. I looked behind me to make sure no one was waiting and pulled out my phone to take a look.

I started punching out a quick response (less than six words) and all of a sudden I heard someone say, "Move it!"

I turn around to see a middle-aged woman (a little more middle aged that me) standing there reaching for something over my shoulder.

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Don't just stand there TEXTING, getting in everyone's way," she replied in a voice so full of hate you would have thought I had just smacked her across the face.

"If you need me to move, all you have to do is ask politely," I responded in a voice purposely full of sweetness and light (the same voice I use when asking my kids to talk politely).

"Politely? When you're standing there TEXTING (every time she said the word 'texting' she made it sound like the F-bomb)? I don't think so."

"I'm still a human being," I said, still being uber-polite.

"No you're NOT," she spat back, "Not if you are standing there TEXTING while other people are trying to shop." And then she shooed me. Made a motion with her hand like you do to a fly or an animal who is about to poop on your rug. 

And that just lit me up.

I was livid. I was screaming obscenities at her and smacking her around the store in my head.

In real life I was frozen, unable to believe that someone would actually talk to another human being in a grocery store that way. With so much hatred, and so little compassion. (Because I fully admit that what I was doing - texting in the refrigerated section - was rude and a little bit selfish, but did she realize I had just run into an ex-boyfriend from a million years ago in the grocery store???).

And then mine kicked in. I didn't even have to do a forgiveness worksheet, I started going through the steps in my head right there in the store.

What happened? Lady was totally rude to me.

How do I feel about it? Enraged. 

What is she mirroring for me? There have been times when I have been rude to people in public when I was really angry or having a bad day. She is me. (Yikes!) 

What am I mirroring for her? Ah-h-h.....This is where it gets interesting. She is shooing me so that must be how she feels people treat her. She feels shooed by life, so she is shooing me. I tried to imagine all of the people who may have shooed her in the past: her mom, her best friend, her teacher, her husband, her boss, her co-workers.....and how bad that must feel.

I decided to forgive her as soon as I could (I was still feeling angry). 

I also called after her,"If that's the way you want to live your life!" It wasn't exactly the high road, but I hoped it was on the road to the high road. I wanted to convey to her somehow that I didn't condone her behavior, but that I saw her as a person in pain and I wanted things to go better than that for her. I hope she got the message.

Nope, it's not over yet......

I finished up my shopping and was heading to the checkout line and there is my old friend again, come to say good bye.

In a truly bizarre twist of fate he was coming to thank me for breaking up with him and forcing him to deal with his shit. Letting me know how our relationship had affected him in a way that was ultimately positive and that he was grateful for it. 

After the morning I'd had, it was nice to hear.





Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Bread vs. Toast


"'Once bread becomes toast, it can never become bread again.' Today I saw that piece of wisdom scrawled on the wall of a cafe's restroom. I immediately thought of you. Metaphorically speaking, you're thinking about dropping some slices in the toaster, even though you're not actually ready to eat yet. If it were up to me, you would wait a while before transforming the bread into toast -- until your hunger got ratcheted up to a higher level. The problem is, if you make the toast now, it'll be unappetizing by the time your appetite reaches its optimum levels. That's why I suggest: Put the bread back in the bag. For the moment, refrain from toasting."

--Rob Brezsny, Free Will Astrology 

This is my horoscope for this week. Or, rather, it is my rising sign horoscope for this week. 

As I understand it, your sun sign (the horoscope which is based upon the day of your birth) is how you present to the world and your rising sign (the horoscope which is based upon the time and place of your birth on that day) is what you are like on the inside. 

My sun sign is Capricorn and my rising sign Aquarius, which totally makes sense to me. I definitely present as a practical, disciplined and reserved Capricorn to the world, but inside I am a friendly, loyal, and somewhat unconventional Aquarius. 

The older I get the more I feel like my inner Aquarius is trying to express itself. I always read both just so I know what is going on with both the inner me and the outer me that week. 

Sun sign or rising sign, Rob Brezsny always seems to nail it.

I love this horoscope. It is wise and insightful, while at the same time being playful and fun. 

"Refrain from toasting" has become my new mantra. It reminds me to stay in the moment. To enjoy what is happening NOW and not what I am looking forward to happening later, or wish would happen tomorrow, or am planning on happening next week. 

NOW is the bread, the future is the toast. Don't forget to enjoy the bread because you are not yet ready for the toast. The toast will come in it's own good time, but if you force it you may just end up with a piece of toast that is burnt or stale or for some other reason inedible. 

"Once bread becomes toast, it can never be bread again....Refrain from toasting."

Monday, April 11, 2011

Paris Redux


 
"There isn't Hell or Heaven, except in our resistance to life."

--Pema Chodron, The Wisdom of No Escape

"Resist NOTHING."

--The Universe to me on April 5, 2011 and April 1, 2005

My trip to Paris was lovely. It was everything I had hoped
it would be, and then some, which was a huge relief because my last couple trips to Paris were very disappointing. 

I realized on this trip how very lucky I am that the first few
times I went to Paris I went with French friends who showed me a Paris that very few tourists ever get to see. A Paris of openness and hospitality, fraternity and kindness. 
 
But I also realized how much my "solo" travel experiences were due to my resistance of life AS IT IS and not as I would like it to be. 

When I went back to Paris as an au pair I had a vision of what it was going to be like: I was going to learn French easily and instantly, I was going to dress and talk and carry my self like a sophisticated French woman easily and instantly, my French family and I were going to love each other easily and instantly. 
 
When none of these things materialized, I resisted fervently, until I couldn't resist anymore, and I went home. 

When I went back to Paris as a tourist I had a vision of what it was going to be like: Paris was going to welcome me back with open arms and say, "Hey, where have YOU been? We missed you!" I would speak perfect French despite years of neglect and we would have a five-day, movie-quality experience. 
 
When none of these things materialized, I resisted fervently, until I couldn't resist anymore and I ended up crying in the middle of a Parisian square. 

This time I took a different tack. My "plan" was to show up and see what happened (aka "Napoleon's Battle Plan;" see also "Napoleon's Battle Plan."). To see what Paris had to offer me this time and enjoy whatever that was. 
 
It worked like a charm. 

I was able to enjoy the beauty that Paris had to offer: the coffee, the cafes, the food, the wine, the art and the architecture, the easily navigable Metro, the gardens and the language. And I was able NOT to resist the frustrations: the ubiquitous dog shit, the "host" who showed up four hours late not only with no apology, but with an excuse that turned it into our fault, the withering looks from French women who found my American fashion sense (or perceived lack thereof) a personal affront that ruined their day, the sense that (particularly at rush hour) you are always in someone's way, the wait staff that just didn't want to deal with another American tourist butchering the French language. 

Since coming back, I have tried to apply this philosophy to my "real life," with some success. Whatever happens each day, whatever shows up, I just breathe into in and let it be, I don't resist and that seems to make all the difference in the world. 







Friday, April 8, 2011

With LOVE from Paris




It seemed like everywhere I went in Paris, I saw LOVE. 

There was love in the window of a chocolatier, an elementary school, and a kitchen shop, as part of a fountain, outside of an art museum and, of course, in all of the beautiful old churches. Even on the side of a construction site. 

Love to you, today and always!


Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Words of Wisdom





Today's photos are from Shakespeare and Company book store on the left bank in Paris. If you are a book-lover and you have never been, put it on your "to do" list. A must-see in this lifetime!

The first photo is the outside of the shop. 

The second photo is a message from the store's owner George Whitman, which reads as follows: "Some people call me the Don Quixote of the Latin Quarter because my head is so far up in the clouds that I can imagine all of us are angels up in Paradise. And instead of being a bonafide bookseller I am more like a frustrated novelist. Store has rooms like chapters in a novel and the fact is Tolstoi and Dostoyevfski are more real to me than my next door neighbors. And even stranger is the fact that before I was born Dostoyevski wrote the story of my life in a book called 'The Idiot' and ever since creating it I have been searching for the heroine a girl called Nastasia Filipovna. One hundred years ago my bookstore was a wine shop hidden from the Seine by an annex of the Hotel Dieu Hospital which has since been demolished and replaced by a garden. And further back in the year 1600 our building was a monastery called La Maison du Mustier. In Medieval times each monastery had a Frere Lampier whose duty was to light the lamps at nightfall. I have been doing this for fifty years now it is my daughter's turn. GW "

The third photo is the "step-up" into the main room of the bookstore and it inspires me every time I step upon it.




Monday, April 4, 2011

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words





I am back from Paris, but finding myself not quite ready to write. While I get my feet back on the ground and food back in the fridge, enjoy some photos from Paris....

Today the theme is PEACE and includes a photo of the Eiffel Tower taken through the peace monument on the Champs de Mars....a screen shot of a War/Peace video display at the Arc de Triomphe....and The Peace Cafe.

A bientot!

Friday, April 1, 2011

One of my first...


"...[A]nd then the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."