Tuesday, March 13, 2012
The long torturous process of unwinding snafus trickled from the spigot of an unruly life. Being me, I became irritated, cranky and impatient.
"When the hell is all this crap going to stop exploding?"
Dear, patient husband offered the usual assist.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You can say, "Boy Deb, that sucks." I'll rage and bitch while you follow with that."
"Boy Deb, that sucks."
Aside from computer hacking, banking errors and shirts on backwards and sideways, a new element swished into view. Friendships from high school onward were showing some wrinkles. Nothing major, but minor skirmishes to bring my daily dash to a pause. Waiting for a planned phone call which never came, a get together cancelled last minute and a scheduled Skype chat lost in the shuffle left me confused. Under the elements lay a common whisper.
"You have left your power behind."
"You must claim your power."
"Balance requires discipline, power requires discipline to remain balanced."
Sounds like me and the big girl panties have a date.
Mid-summer I had become enthralled with writing. Obsessed, a giant tub of love butter surrounded by glorious words and life drifted off into careless disregard. Writing became the new hot boyfriend and everything else the distracting chore list. A wobble was heard across the land, while I got lazy, myopic and dreadfully out of balance. Big enough wobble and even a Weeble will fall down.
Entering the office one morning, grumbling because of the early hour required to engage in shamanic practice, even though there was no intent for being a shaman, I noticed Buddha near the door. This particular Buddha head owned a chipped ear from being knocked from his perch once or twice by the gardener and currently resided just inside out of the snow.
"I can't believe you've made it unscathed this long."
Buddha didn't respond, his face a bland mask of serenity. With no advanced preparation I became overcome with a need to vacuum the office immediately. This unlikely event was accompanied by a finite amount of time for practice before the first client arrived.
"You are a bloody idiot. I know. You don't have time for this. I know. Oh shut up. I know."
Zooming through the two rooms and nearly finished, something or someone told me to turn around. Perhaps it was the cord of the vacuum or my foot or Big Dude Himself, but flying majestically end over end through the air was Buddha.
"Grab him! Go on make a flying gazelle leap and save Buddha! Forget bodily injury, you're not too old, you can do this!"
Buddha deconstructed at my feet. I stood for a moment or two in stunned wonder.
"Well Dude, you waited a long time to do that and it was freaking magnificent."
Later in the day a young woman showed me what balance looks like. She appeared with a ukulele to demonstrate the position while playing. I'd asked her to do this to discover out why she experiencing back pain. Strumming the tune of my favorite song, "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" by IZ, Gabri told me what filled her days.
"Well, I like college and I'm pretty sure I want to go to culinary school. I've got a ukulele club and thinking about creating a comedy performance routine, plus the volunteer work at the local theater and I really love my restaurant job."
The beautiful girl's face beamed with joy and purpose. There was no discussion about not enough time or too little attention. Though a bit lopsided sitting with the ukulele, in all other ways Gabri was the tree pose of life. Somewhere between twenty and fifty-one I'd lost the ability to add, allowing subtraction to rule the game.
When the day wound to a close, I collected Big Head's pieces to throw away. The stack contained an eye, a large chunk with an ear and half of his face, plus parts unable to describe. Buddha's swan dive served great purpose and deserved a bit more than a toss into a can. Lying the disassembled figure head alongside pine boughs and natural materials I began constructing a visual art of chaos collected. There are plenty of places I'd misplaced my power, including relationships which were more about hanging on than human interaction and those would be handled in much the same way as the morning rituals. Remembering to practice balance with all things dreamed of all those years ago as a young girl full of purpose.
A regular day begins and I light a candle at Buddha Deconstructed, moving on to access my power by practicing discipline. Each moment is a wonder of pieces flying through the air creating chaos and humility.