The Zen of Shoelaces
Sure, today
it was easy to come up with a title for the blog with a faint idea of what I might
want to write about but when I sat down to really knuckle down to hitting keys
on the keyboard for something interesting, stimulating and thought-worthy, I
think that I have lost my mojo, my muse, and the last pickle is gone from the
jar.
Maybe I should
go back into the bedroom, sit down and begin my ritual of putting my fancy
black walking shoes on. I try hurrying
with pulling laces together in a way so they don’t come undone while I am
walking. As I was sitting there on my
wooden hope chest that is covered with various quilts, woven blankets, a workout
jacket, I was thinking tying shoe laces should be a meditation experience
instead of the rush, rush hurry to get out the door which was in my case back
to work. The man, my husband was hovering. I asked him if I was in his way, his reply,
“Yes, of my shoes, my hat and my jacket.”
Really? I was having mind opening experience and all
he could think of was his stuff and me in the way of it all. This was my Zen moment. He was right, I had no time for Zen. I needed to keep on track, tie the shoes and
head out the door. After all, returning
to work was important, people were expecting me to show back up. Particularly since our lunches are staggered.
Hungry co-workers are the worse. It is
almost criminal to let them out the door, back on the street to rush with
hundreds of others to find lunch, run errands until their brief interlude of
freedom is gone. Where is the Zen?
I tried to
have another Zen moment while I was walking across the parking lot to my
office. We live on the coast. We have gulls everywhere. Laughing gulls, regular shrieking gulls,
gulls just riding the currents or sitting on rooftops checking out the
world. Probably having a real Zen moment
when they are not terrorizing us little workers trying to get into our
buildings while nesting season is going on.
Fortunately for me, the birds are in the calm state as the babies are
getting quite big, parents are getting very bored so I was able to look with
some security at a baby chirping for food.
My little Zen moment, as I talked to it, telling it, look how big you
are getting. I tried to listen to really listen to the birds in the sky,
calling as they flew. It was calming.
A day later
when we were traveling to pick up a friend at the airport, we crossed the coast
range where the new road runs on top and through the mountain ridges, the trees
were shrouded in the low lying clouds, the valley hidden in moisture. We were
in the clouds. I hovered in the moment,
my spirit soared. I was very aware of the beauty of the sunshine glimpsing through,
sparkling on dew left glistening on the evergreens, the hemlocks and aspens. This
is a Zen moment. This is awareness of the moment unfolding. I quickly wrote a note to myself as a
reminder to include this in my blog and we continued down the road filled with
awe for a beautiful morning.
Often I am
captured by the knowledge of how many of us there are when my man is driving
rapidly down the freeway. An endless supply of humanity. I say my prayers, I surround us with divine
light and bless the roads we travel on.
As I do, I extend my consciousness, allowing the peace and love to flow to
the drivers we pass, the drivers who pass us, asking for protection for all who
travel, for the families who wait for them.
I experience my interest with a sort of childishness. I am awed by the quick movement from spot to
spot. While just a brief hour ago, we
were in the clouds with no other traffic and now, I am being crushed with cars,
trucks, vans and mobile trailers whizzing by.
Where are they going or coming from? Are they happy? What do they do in
their lives? I salute their divinity.
With my consciousness expanding, I guess I could call this another of my Zen
moments. Breathing in the moment.
I started
out this morning with the intention of working on my blog, cooking, and baking
food for the week after a long weekend of travel returning the friend to
Portland to await her flight in the early morning. Time well spent as we
enjoyed eating at a bakery/restaurant, wandering down a sidewalk looking in and
out of little shops, clothing boutiques, and a bookstore always enjoying each
other’s company. The man herded us into
the car and once again we were on our way.
Though I felt very present, chatting away with our friend, I didn’t
think of it as Zen. Perhaps, I should have.
I was smiling, I was happy and totally aware of my one of my dearest loves
being with us. I know that I was thinking of it. The Zen, the awareness, the
being.
I had bought
two new books, “Mindfulness on the Go” by Jan Chozen Bays, MD and “How to Love”
by Thich Nhat Hanh when we had picked my friend up at the airport. I started
the first while waiting in a parking structure in Portland while my friend
visited with some friends. My husband
was reading. Another dear friend who came with us was reading; we enjoyed being
absorbed in our books and the time flew. I needed Inspirational reading as I was out of
practice with taking care of myself. I enjoy reminders. Sometimes I really don’t like the wakeup
calls, most of which I observe happening to others. Let me be happy.
We finished
our trip back to Portland with a walk up and down a big mall until we spied a
restaurant where we could eat. It was a
very nice dinner followed by a brief drive to the hotel near the airport to
unload ourselves, our luggage. My friend and I grabbed a trolley and maneuvered
it and ourselves to the room while the man parked the car. Can you find Zen in a hotel room?
After my
friend repacked, consolidating stuff given to her by friends into one suitcase
and a carry-on, the three of us started to settle in. I had washed my face, had the night cream on,
my teeth brushed, flossed and my retainer in as well as slipping a light
nightgown on to prepare for bed. My husband, the man, prepared to read to me
while I curled up in the warmth of blankets, a soft bed and contentment. I enjoy being read to. He had bought the
Kindle with the book we had started. After
reading to me, he sat on the edge of the bed as my friend stretched out,
relaxing and began reading to her as well.
He reads to me nightly and her, weekly.
He has written a book. My friend only gets one chapter of his book every
Sunday. I think we were all in a Zen
moment. At least, I like to think so. It
is all after all, just moments after moments.
Let’s enjoy them.
