All he wanted, more than anything was to watch TV. More specifically, Ben 10. To me, it’s a different flavor of violence. But what do I know about violence? Either way, I grant his wish. After the final episode, I will turn the TV off and redirect the energy outside. Bringing recycling outside and laundry downstairs. Only to eventually watch more TV. HAHA. Except this time, it will be of a slower pace. I guess that’s why I like Little House on the Prairie. It’s of a slow pace. It’s 10:37am. And by noon thirty, the kids will have had a little more than 2 hours of TV.
I sigh a big sigh.
All I wanted, was to go to a yoga workshop. Twice as long as a class. I wanted to emerge myself into myself. Where I had no obligation to anyone or anything, other than myself. But maybe I chose the wrong place. Or maybe it was just the right place.
I drove total 80 miles, there and back. I was gone from 12:10pm to 4:45pm. I took my time. I enjoyed the scenery as much as I could being the driver. I became the experience to a large degree. And I enjoyed myself.
I paid 20$ for the class. And this morning I had an argument/ disagreement/misunderstanding with my husband about this experience. Specifically of issue was the money. And that was probably my fault as I started the conversation by noting how much money the teacher received for doing that workshop. And I knew this because I helped sign people in and collect the money. I paid less than the advertised price, I noted. But to him, I shouldn’t have paid anything. I “worked” for her, and therefore should have gotten a free class. Well, I don’t necessarily DISagree, but I do believe in a fair exchange. And I do admit, that if I deduct the cost of gas (3.50$/gallon; 28mi/gal; 80 mi; 80/28=2.8; 2.8/3.5= 9.8$) and the fair price of work, I could have given her less money for the class. But …
It’s 11:25am and Emma is asleep. Lucas now wants a snack with this movie. His big green, grey, bluish eyes batting at me. Many things run through my head.
“Go outside and get some carrots. Grab a handful,” I say.
He sighs, but he does it. He comes back in and hands me the bunch, keeping one.
“I’ll eat this dirty,” he says, and returns to the couch.
Okay, I say to myself. Okay. I put the rest of the carrots on the counter. I decide to peel them later. Cross that bridge, so to speak. And I return to the computer.
We agree that we just don’t think the same about money. Jeremy and I. We just don’t feel about and experience money the same way. In the end, we love each other. Because he has to leave to go to work. And I stay here, with the kids. I still feel bitter about the conversation and the feelings that come up as he walks out the door. My kiss wasn’t as hard. My “Goodbye. Have a good day” wasn’t as sincere. We love each other, but we let ourselves get in the way sometimes.
So I let time do its thing. I throw a pile of clothes on the table. Sorting and folding. Trying to think of a way to get Sonic to help me. But I know it won’t fly. No matter how hard I try.
People have said, “You gotta make cleaning fun.” But cleaning isn’t fun. At least I don’t think it is. Sometimes I get into it. I let my desire for godliness take over me and I do a great job. Most of the time I’d rather be doing something else.
And then I wonder, who said that women have to clean and cook and serve her family? Dammit. And if not women, then the person at home with the kids. And why the hell does it feel like the only thing to do with my kids is watch TV?
Of course I know that isn’t so. Many of the things I think aren’t ACTUALLY true. And I am becoming ever more aware of this. And it sorta feels like I am going crazy sometimes. I can’t land on an idea or belief to save my life. I’m in a river. Struggling to find something to keep me from going down stream.
And then I remember who I am. And I stop struggling.
I take a break from metaphors. From worrying about what could happen. From fearing. From imagining that all of this is for SOME HIGHER PURPOSE. This is all for the purpose it IS. The purpose, the meaning, the truth, the all is, was, and ever will be is in the PRESENT.
And tears fall as I FEEL this. And experience this. And let the REALITY of it flow through me.
And I realize that this is much easier to feel when no one is looking at me. Or watching me. When no one is waiting for or expecting anything from me. When obligations and responsibilities of anyone or anything other than myself is my present experience. Then I can breathe.
And all he wants is to watch a movie. Now it’s Space Buddies. Have you seen that movie? I struggled through the whole thing. Well, maybe not the WHOLE thing. It was just… fake. There are some movies that are from the heart. Heart-WARMING. Activating. Inspiring and hopeful and true in spirit. I watch the Buddy movies and it feels unnatural.
And so I sit here, fulfilling my hearts desire to make something out of nothing and everything, all at once. And when I look up, past the top left corner of the screen, I see Sonic. My speedy Gonzalez. A boy of 6 living in a third floor apartment with his parents and little sister. Right smack dab in the middle of 2 major highways and 2 byways and 3 or 4 major local routes. To the right of the building is another condemned one. People say homeless and drug addicts live there. But who knows. They need somewhere to sleep at night, too, right? Energy from all over the planet is brought to, through, and around here. And we live right in the middle of it with 50,000 other people.
Oh there’s a college and an air force base here, too. This place is F-ing nuts. When I think about all of the different energies, and how I feel in and around and about this place it is definitely one of mixed emotions.
So I stop thinking about it. And I open my eyes. I sit up straight and look straight and slightly left. I see Sonic. Eating a carrot and watching Space Buddies. Jumping around in a circle. Arms out and spinning. Jumping backwards while arms spinning backwards and parallel to body. Get the Lead out, I say. In my head anyway.
He’s exercising.
I, on the other hand, am dreaming. I dream of a kitchen. A cafeteria kitchen. The stainless steel kind. And then I see a wood and iron kitchen. And imagine having a community kitchen. One that was big enough for a group of people. CHECK! Door to outside. Kinda check! And I look around my kitchen. The one I sit in now, from this chair in front of the computer. And I see the pile of laundry on the table and I am brought back to “reality.” The one where I have responsibilities to OTHER PEOPLE. Namely, husband and kids. My others. But, for the moment, they are fine and/or responsible for themselves.
And I think of Caroline Ingles. And I think of Charles. And how little they had, but how far they stretched it. And remember I am in the middle of a Christmas episode that I started days ago. They stretched their means with an open heart, resolve, and love. The themes of that yoga workshop yesterday.
And then I find a point. A conclusion. A summation of my feelings and thoughts and ideas and emotions and insights and experiences that are EVER changing and ALWAYS flowing towards.
And I don’t read the 1,378 words before this one before I decide to post this. Because that is the only way I can push it past me. Without worry if what I had just said made any sense or taken the wrong way. And without worrying about whether or not the readers of my words will judge me. Because they will. You will. I will and do. It’s in our nature. It is a part of our past and evolving genetic makeup. We also have free will. And the Golden Rule.
So, truly. This is the year of YOU. Of remembering we are one. And acting accordingly. Live our dreams as if they were real. And if we can grant a wish, do it. And if we can’t, be honest. We may find other gifts in store. Gifts worth more than gold. Once we appreciate those, the gifts of gold will come more freely.
And yet, I stay in my home. In front of a screen. Where things often make more sense. Possibility is endless. I dream. And I remember balance.
Balance. He’s exercising. Are you? Make sure you do. You can start right now. With both feet on the floor, square your hips and engage your stomach. Take deep breaths filling in your belly first and then your lungs. Exhaling, emptying your lungs first. Then your belly. This alone, is enough to feel alive. For the moment.
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Brian Whisper