Same Story … Same Me
Somehow, despite knowing better there still seems to be a lingering belief that if I read enough books, attend enough internet satsangs, meditate enough on my cushion … that the egoic I will relinquish all hold on this body/mind organism and the prison bars of my mental solitary confinement will vanish before my eyes. Silly I know. But still the level of guilt when I fail to meet my own expectations, because of course I should know better would seem to imply that this is still a core belief that pervades all of my actions and reactions.
This morning would be no exception to the rule. It was a bittersweet sunrise as my mind wrapped around the day ahead. My college girl would be returning to the dorms, but decidedly closer still than her last semester in Italy. While I would miss her daily smile, I was also welcoming the opportunity to reclaim my studio-office. I had missed sitting on the window seat in my purple sun room. If a room could be a muse, this space did certainly fill me with occasion for deep inquiry.
I made my way downstairs, with my little sack snack that my husband had prepared for me the night before, I perched myself on a chair at our dining room table. My son was already awake and plugged in to his laptop like a cybernetic-teen-organism. A brief nod of his head implied he was happy to see me. As my not-so-little junior-high girl came bounding down the stairs I reminded her that Papa was still asleep and asked if she could bring me a biscotti that I had made the day before.
Everything was peace filled and I could feel the sun just begin to peek over the roof of our house and peer in through the southern window to warm my back. Then without warning an electrical shock knocked me off balance in my chair. It was the third one in the same number of days that zapped my autonomic nervous system into another dimension. As I left hometown and entered the fear-zone, I could feel the heat turn up high on my internal thermostat and the chuckgatee-chuckgatee-boom of my heart brought me to my feet. I walked silently back up the stairs in hopes to settle myself in the quite of my bedroom.
I turned the ceiling fan on and sat very still at the edge of my bed, my husband not so asleep from all of my fuss. I could feel my heart skipping beats as if a needle was stuck on an old vinyl record. The beat goes on, but the song gets stuck in its tracks. I slipped the biofeedback finger sensors on my hand and looked at the grapher to see what my system was doing on the laptop screen. Talk about a cyborg! As I expected, my heart was skipping wildly with short runs that were likely brief PSVT episodes. And just like gravity, my story fell quickly in to place. I can’t handle this. I want the paramedics to come and hook me up to real machines. I want someone to FIX THIS! The heat in my body continued to rise. Not only could I feel my body inferno, but the galvanic response chart was showing me in real time the rise of heat within my body.
It took more than 20 minutes before my system began to settle back down to a reasonable state of disarray. All the while I was mounting circumstantial evidence that insisted I was no closer to regaining my freedom and ever realizing a life of sovereignty.
Just then a smile came to my face.
Ahhhh life is good.
And of course the music still played in the background … No it isn’t you pathetic looser. You can’t even deal with an erratic, pulse and a few power surges. You’ll never amount to anything.
Another smile and a deeper knowing ….
Ahhhh Life IS GOD. The rest is just ego blogging.
