Life is Fragile

We are so darned resilient. Kind of. This crazy crazy storm raining down on the east coast. Is scary. My parents have lived in their house for 50 years. Currently without electricity. With no cell phone. I wonder how they’re doing in the path of Sandy. ¬†Suddenly the world isn’t so modern. Except that my boys are dancing Gangnam style for me as I type. So often it seems like the world is so small and accessible. We know what’s happening everywhere in an instant. But tonight. I only wonder if my parents are safe.

 

Mission Accomplished

Cross that off my list! This morning I solved the Rubik’s Cube. Granted. It was with a detailed set of instructions entitled, How to Solve a Rubik’s Cube.

I’m not going to kid you. This colorful cube has been on my bookshelf for thirty years. Ok. Actually longer than that. Because I remember sitting in the back seat of my family’s car spinning away. My father chiding me, “You’re never going to figure that out.”

Since then and every now and again I pick it up and twist it around and fret. Kind of dumb. But. Really and truly. I have always and forever wanted to make every side solid.

Six solid sides. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Why not?

I’ve wanted to solve the damned Rubik’s Cube for more than three-quarters of my life.

A year or two ago I  even tried to follow a you tube fellow who guaranteed I could solve it with him. Nothing. No doing. No such luck.

Until today.

I started at it two nights ago. Here’s the trick. Max and Henry believed I could do it. Tim, not so much.

And so.

I worked within my limits. I read through a handful of instructions. Familiarized myself with the idea of a cube. It’s three dimensions. The terminology of the “how to.”

Then I put it down.

Until I was ready.

This morning I was ready. And within 10 minutes. It was solved.

Isn’t that the craziest thing?

Comfort Zone

Our cat, Blue has been escaping. When you open the door to let the dogs out, out she goes with them. The other day. Nobody noticed. And she spent a number of hours in the great outdoors. Did I mention that Blue has lived in this house for 4 years and in the totality of that time has been outside….NEVER! Until this crazy fall. Out she goes like she owns the place. What’s funny though. Is that she sort of slinks around. Like the great tall ceiling that is the sky may fall down upon her at any moment.

And yet out she goes. A little fear. A bit of discomfort. But the instinct to explore is greater than that.

Blue the cat is willing to move outside of her comfort zone!

We can learn a lot from our pets.

I’m taking a fiction class right now. I feel awkward and exposed and just this side of stupid. But I write and write and write anyway. Because I want to get better. I am terribly uncomfortable. But if I don’t try now when will I? Maybe I’ve got a few stories in me that are worth reading? I just need to work on getting them out.

It’s ok to feel awkward. And stupid. And stinky. It’s worth it.

Because, maybe you’ll find your passion. Maybe you’ll discover you.

Maybe I’ll discover me.

 

Autumn and New Beginnings

Some people see autumn as the beginning of the end. You know the harbinger of winter and all. But for me, and always, autumn has been a time of starting a new. The beginning of the beginning. I was married in the autumn. My birthday is in the autumn. And you know – I did start this blog in the autumn.

Recently I was handed a new beginning. My computer imploded. That is. The little rainbow-colored pin wheel on my Mac wouldn’t stop spinning. Until it did. And then. That was that for my Mac. Yes! My hard drive was dead. No! I hadn’t backed it up. Yes! Everything left with it. I asked the man at the Genius Bar, “Do a lot of people cry here?”

“Yes,” he said. “They do.”

And so.

With the death of my hard drive. With the onset of autumn.

It was time for a new beginning.

My computer lay bare before me.

Like the leaves falling from the trees. Suddenly there is so much to see that you’ve never seen before.

With my empty computer. There were no more leaves to confuse my vision. I could start again. With clarity. Today. With purpose.

You know. To struggle against the universe is simply to struggle. To accept and move forward.

Is a wonderful way to begin.

The Spider, The Sparrow and Me.

A few weeks ago I was sitting on the patio. Thinking. Enjoying the birds at the feeder. The fish in the pond.

I notice in the clear blue sky above me. A spider spinning. Bobbing down. Then up. Then down again.

How spectacular.

His web glistens. The only evidence of his otherwise impossible position.

What a gift to see such a sight.

This thought barely has time to percolate.

A sparrow tosses itself out of the bushes next to me. Up into the air.

And with just a bit of effort, eats the spider and flutters off.

In an instant! The spider is gone! Eaten by the bold little sparrow!

Hasn’t this been in the back of my mind.

And so.

Over the past year – or maybe really – since the death of my brother in 2002 – I’ve been trying to figure “stuff” out.

How to find ease and joy. Amid all the yuck that life seems to hand out.

And even more importantly to instill this ability in my boys. And of course. To all.

As I’ve written the Carrot Seed over the course of this year I have found how to live with much more ease. And so much more joy.

That I gained a much deeper realization of the process, seemed to happen in an instant. Just today.

I woke up this morning. To think. “Nothing has changed but my understanding.”

I’ve dropped the story you see.

And with that, everything has changed really.

You can look for evidence. But you won’t find any. You can’t “see” that anything has changed. Because it is all in my telling. Of my own story. To me.

A phone conversation. A dog walk.

Compassion.

Understanding. Acceptance.

So simply. Of what really is.

I won’t kid myself. Or you. Dropping the story hurts. Even if it happened in an instant. The pain lingers a bit longer. There is an adjustment to being with “what is.”

In an instant the spider was gone. To nourish the sparrow.