random musings

First, the mundane stuff: Does anyone else get a high from paying bills? It makes me feel ridiculously good to write and mail off those checks. AHHHH.

And how's this for a hint that it might be time to start working out again: I went to put on my favorite pants today, which were dryer-fresh and therefore rather snug, and hmm... they seemed a little snugger than usual. So when I squatted into the deep knee bends I typically employ to banish dryer shrinkage, they split massively in the rear. Frickin' frackin' rickin' ruckin' motherscratcher!!! Good thing I got out my sewing machine yesterday, finally giving in to the inspiration I gleaned from my dear Teri's recent lucky find. But problems remain. First of all, no matter how well I do with it, the mending job will be quite apparent, so the days of these amazing funky, flattering pants being presentable are over. And secondly, in ongoing casual wear, how long will the mending job last? I can (and will) stop machine drying this beloved garment, but though their well-earned wear in the seat was a factor in today's incident, my seat itself was equally culpable in this sad case. Goodbye, era of the favorite widewale olive green corduroy pants. Hello, Nordic Track.

In other mundane news, I just never can get over how much light and love and joy our cats bring to my days. I try not to talk about it too much, since it's one of those things that can be irritating to the uninitiated, but OH MY GOD. I LOVE my cats. I love them so much it hurts a little; I have to grit my teeth. Our newest addition to the household is coming up on six months of age and has just figured out that she can leap onto the counters, to, among other very naughty things, pursue her favorite hobby of pulling over water glasses. We are entering a world of trouble. And I could not be less concerned. Nothing she could damage in her playful impudence is nearly as dear as she. How on earth do you parents of human babies manage the intensity?

Speaking of intensity, here's where I'm really at today: I feel I have made great progress in my spiritual work lately, and I'm happy about that, but it's a little hard to take. When I do my ACIM meditations morning and evening, and remember to pause hourly-ish to think about Love and Truth, it feels wonderful--but lately I seem all too often to become a blubbering pile of spiritually porous mush. Yesterday I went to church (Christian Science church, which often synchs up beautifully with A Course in Miracles), and the lesson was all about how we are one with God and with each other. I cried through the whole service. It's joy and it's gratitude--the tears come from a very beautiful place, a place I want to be--but... well, it's just hard to take standing up. I find my edginess and my personal armor wanting to re-engage even more energetically after a day or two like this, which is hardly the point of the work.

It's a kind of backlash, I think. My ego, the fearful part of me, is growing very concerned. And it has every reason to be concerned! Looks like it's losing control of the legislature, so to speak. And that's great. But I really need to find a way to do this work and live in the world simultaneously. That is, in fact, the point. I won't be nearly as much help holed up at home weeping with gratitude for my kitties as I might be bringing some of this light I'm opening to directly to those who really need it. Of course, that may be me attempting to manage affairs which, though ostensibly my own, are in truth better left to the higher powers. But I do know this: I need to find a way to become more loving more consistently in my interactions with others as a result of my spiritual work, as opposed to often more loving and easy-going, but sometimes a big hyper-sensitive, crankypants bundle of emotion. (Sorry, G.)

I actually made the conscious choice to skip my meditation last night, because I thought I just couldn't take anymore. And I haven't done one yet this morning, er, afternoon. That can't be right. Well, I'll go do it now. For me, facing this work is another one of those things that just can't be gotten around. Hey, that reminds me of a sweet old spiritual song:

Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham
Oh! Rock-a my soul

So high, you can't get over it
So low, you can't get under it
So wide, you can't get around it
You gotta go through the door

Bawling again...

So while I'm here, one more thought: I've been feeling bad about vilifying that reporter from CNN in my post about the Amish schoolhouse tragedy. And not just because my smart, sensitive, wonderful brother pointed out in the comments that to lump "the press" together as a single entity with a unified focus and methodology is not terribly subtle thinking. I feel fine about the opinions I expressed, but I have realized that to derisively pick on the individual people caught up in the machinations of our culture won't ever do a bit of good. There are ways to express ideas like that without attacking anybody. Next time I'll be more careful.