Ode to Pema

I’ve been reading, listening to, studying Pema Chodron lately. One thing I love most about what she teaches is that there is no wrong. It just is. In meditation and life, we just show up in a state of present-ness for whatever exists for us—our feelings, thoughts, existence in the moment.

When we make our thoughts, moods or way of being (or someone else’s) “wrong” or “right”, that’s adding something. Every thought is a choice that can take us closer to realizing our inner state of Buddhahood or further into suffering. Not wrong, not right, just is.

Hmm…..

Or, rather, “Ommm…”

Clearing

I’ve been thinking a lot about clearing lately. Maybe that’s because I seem confounded by piles of paper that seem to appear whenever I turn my back for a moment. Maybe it’s because in the last three and a half years, we’ve moved three times, each time kicking up a storm of has-been clutter ready to be released.

Maybe it’s because for as much as I try to find time to clear, de-clutter and find homes for all the new stuff, something or some little ones always seem to get in the way (ah, the excuses of motherhood…).

Anyway you slice it, on days like this, I feel stuck. Perhaps it’s because I’m not really sure where I’m going. I seem to have plopped into a giant tumultuous river called inner faith and transformation that is taking me somewhere fast (or so it feels) and I often feel like I’m just along for the ride. Keeping your head above water, at least long enough to take the all-necessary occasional breath, seems to be the name of the game.

I often think that the best way to clear one’s path when obstacles seem to be getting in the way is to pause, take a breather, recollect one’s energy and vision, and take stock of what is most important. Perhaps when I am clear where my soul is calling me to go, and find the courage to answer with a resounding “YES!”—I will become filled with a knowing of which piles to clear first in order to get there.

Step by step, inch by inch, moment by moment and we’re off and away!

One Stinkin' Mystery

As I sat and watched the skunk waddle across the back of our yard, I couldn’t help but take pause. It shuffled along with a confidence. It knew who it was and where it was going. It didn’t mind me watching. It had purpose.

I wasn’t particularly looking for inspiration in that moment. I was just loading the car with things, getting ready to soon follow behind with kids. In a moment, we would all be off for the morning routine. The sky was light just after sunrise, a crisp chill in the air.

Messages—they come without warning, most often unexpected. We ask a question and the universe answers, often in a way we would not have chosen for ourselves. Supply dries up, gifts land on our laps, skunks waddle by.

All of it is a mystery. When we think of ourselves as just a link in the chain, connected and equal with all else, the mystery gets really entertaining. We are suddenly in relationship with the wind, trees, creatures, other mothers loading cars—all of us waddling along on our way, amusingly interconnected—players in a carefully orchestrated happenstance.

Could the skunk have had a message, just for me? Could there be a reason I looked up just at that moment and she decided to pass on by? I like to think yes. The truth is, we will never really know. Even as we look back, perhaps thinking the perspective of time passed must somehow offer wisdom, if we’ve ever struggled to find answers—which I certainly have—at some point, we must have the humbling sense that there is much we are not meant to know.

When we consider that perhaps there is no big puzzle to solve, our job instead, becomes to not be surveyors but players, immersing ourselves in the cool breezes and mud puddles along the way--feeling elation or yuckiness in them, whatever it may be for us in the moment. We are freed to have fun with the small bits and skunk-like beings that dance momentarily before our eyes, only to be hidden once more. Like droplets of water in the great expanse of the sea, the landscape is ever changing and so are we.