Today for all of us, my prayer is "Please, give us a respite from all the crises." Our flight or fight button is jammed and we can barely put one foot in front of the other. So sit a while and I'll just put on the kettle.
The task of getting through the day with all our loved ones accounted for and a roof still over our heads drains our energy, depletes our sense of security and diminishes our capacity for happiness, leaving us feeling exhausted and vulnerable. Nearly everyday we're inundated with a new reason to be scared—if it's not the collapse of the world markets, or a terrorist alert, it's fears about bird flu, a tsunami in our backyard or Yellowstone National Park blowing up. As Dorothy Parker so succinctly put it, "What fresh hell is this?"
Which is why when challenging and unexpected Change occurs, Mother Providence hits the cosmic Pause button for a sacred time-out. We're stunned and we're meant to stop. I know this may be difficult for you, as it is for me, but think of what's going on now, today and tomorrow as a gift—a way to recalibrate the speed at which we're chasing after our days and clutching at the world's grains of sand. With any dramatic change in our circumstances, whether its good news or bad, there's information to assimilate, emotional wounds to lick, confusion to sort, closets to clear, brown boxes to pack, forms to fill out. There are new connections to make, wisdom to glean, truth to be revealed, forgiveness to be considered, mail to forward. But above all, there's gratitude to be offered for a safe deliverance from the Past before Spirit stamps our letters of transit to the Future.
Let's take a look at the word that saps our strength so quickly and so often:
SCARED
"What difference do it make if the thing you scared of is real or not?" the glorious writer Toni Morrison wonders aloud, surely for all of us. Women have always known how to comfort the fears of others; we just don't remember to use the same tender, loving tactics on ourselves. So the next time you feel a random panic attack starting, take a deep breath, and transpose the "a" and the "c" in the word "scared" and you'll not only discover another word, but a world of difference. You'll uncover the
SACRED
Doesn't that make you feel better already? It works for me,every time. I'd also be willing to bet that your sacred, like mine, is very close—the walls surrounding you or the floorboards supporting you, even if they need a good scrub.
The best definition I ever heard of fear is "False Evidence Appearing Real". When I'm anxious I notice that my fears seem to be speculative, future-tense marauders. Will there be enough? What will I do? How will I cope?
The best way I know to disarm fear is by keeping a Gratitude Journal, a polite daily thank-you note to the Universe—and a reminder to yourself of the very real blessings you have right now. In this moment. Small pauses that bring a smile or a sigh of relief during the day. We think it's the big moments that define our lives—the promotion, the new baby, the renovated kitchen, the wedding. But the narrative of our lives is written in the small, the simple and the common. The overlooked. The discarded. The reclaimed. Life is not made up of minutes, hours, days, weeks, months or even years, but of moments. You must experience each one before you can appreciate it.
Now Autumn arrives, a change of season that's more a sense memory than a date on the calendar. Finally, the heat is passing. Gradually familiar surroundings don a rustic palate of jewel tones that dazzle with their beauty. Let October seduce you with her charms: taffy apples, mulled cider, raking leaves, arranging dried corn wreaths and filling cornucopias of autumn fruits , savory stews and Sunday roasts, the first fire of the season, making a scarecrow, mums in the front garden, sunflowers on the dining room table, pumpkin carving, pie making and the tremendous satisfaction of making do with whatever we've got, as we discover all we have is truly all we need, as long as we possess the soul knowledge of how blessed we truly are. Trust me, dearest friend, the world can't take this away…only you can turn the gift away.
Wishing you a month of comfort, unexpected blessings, personal miracles, and a prayer that you may know Deep Joy,
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