"Worry, worry, worry!" -- ok what cartoon character comes to mind here? Is it Eeyore, Piglet, Pooh? I think it was Eeyore, as he was constantly worrying about "losing his tail". It could be any of these cartoon characters – but in reality it is mostly plain ole ME (and maybe you too?).
Buddhist’s call it Monkey Mind. Now that would be a good name for a new cartoon persona – yes? Almost daily a thought comes, reminding me “I’m in the unknown”,“I have no idea what to do","I don't know what's next”, or even what is NOW for that matter!
I found myself in this mind-space one day while working as an in-home health aide. I was informed I would need to start giving my client four different eye drops twice daily. That might not sound so bad….but considering my client was a germaphobe, fearful that people were trying to kill her, didn’t always remember who I was and was on all types of psychotropic meds which she generally refused to take….made it “very bad” to me!
Worry, worry, worry became my moment-to-moment mind mantra. My organized, fix-it-now pattern kicked in full-time. I decided to buy some over-the-counter eye drops and practice on someone. I picked the exact right person. That would be Frank, my guitar and cognac partner in playful, creative crime.I went over to his house one day to play by the side of the lake. As we sat on the deck with cognac and guitars, I began to share with him the story of my eye drop dilemma.He listened – quietly. I asked him if I could practice on him to help me get comfortable with the skill set.
He simply and clearly said “No”.
Discomfort came quickly to me.
He then shared with me that, coincidently, he was having to begin the same process with his 85 year old mother-in-law. He showed me the gamut of eye drop scripts he'd just received from the pharmacy. He also had never done this before.The next thing he said brought forward a wisdom that is always present. “You are an incredibly Knowing soul. When the moment comes, you will know exactly what to do. You always do - you always will”.
It was perfection – and we left it at that.
When the day came for the first eye drop duty…..I walked in, gently greeted myself internally, my client externally, opened the bottle and eased each drop four times into both eyes.
The original box of unopened practice-drops I took to Frank’s house sits prominently on my prayer table. I smile at the name on the box that faces me daily: "Clear Vision”. I love remembering this eye drop story and sharing it with friends when we discuss times we are worried and don’t know what to do.
During my last trip to India, I had a physical sense of the wisdom-knowing part of my soul. While meditating on worry, knowing and unknowing, my soul stood as a Samurai stands – strong, centered, clear and always Knowing ---- especially in the midst of unknowing.
I enjoy bringing that Samurai Soul image to mind whenever I find my Eeyore-like-self being afraid of losing my tail and I worry, worry, worry.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
The Sound of Elders Praying
I was moved the other day by what I will call the “Sound of elders praying”.
It brought me immediately into a space of inner and outer calm. When I heard it, I recognized how I’ve heard this sound since childhood. It is subtle, low and drone-like. It can be found everywhere - when we listen to things like the buzz of a bee, the rattle of dried leaves, the summer heat saturated in the consistency of cicada song.
I heard it easily in India while sleeping, waking and napping to the oceanic monsoon wind outside my retreat room window. I felt it in the low vibration sensed in the sound of silence. It is easily audible when: in sitting, one just sits; in listening one just listens and in breathing, one just breathes. I re-recognized the sound one day as I helped care for a 96 year old woman.
I was walking to the laundry room when I heard a voice say “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” in a just-under-the-breath mantra-like melody. I looked up to see a hunched elder woman walk with a tall husband-like man supporting her arm as they moved side by side. In each step-by-concentrated-step her movement and mantra blended in rhythmic measure.
There it was – the sound of elders praying! So familiar, so near, so soothing. I recalled the same murmured meter I heard as a child in the Byzantine church I attended,in of all places,downtown Gary, Indiana. Talk about calmness in the midst of chaos!
The church was a "cacophonic" chamber that echoed with a chorus of elder Slavic women’s voices praying the rosary in their native tongue. It came from deep inside them, rising subtly but surely with the frankincense that floated from the sanctuary. The ancient Slavic tones drew us inward to the place where we can hear divine messages:
“Be still and know that I am God”.
“To pray without ceasing”
…and…
“For those who have ears, let them hear.”
I am thankful to hear the sound of elders praying. I am grateful to have heard it in the woman walking by me. It helps me to remember in each step and in every moment to prayerfully say and hear “thank you, thank you, thank you”.
It brought me immediately into a space of inner and outer calm. When I heard it, I recognized how I’ve heard this sound since childhood. It is subtle, low and drone-like. It can be found everywhere - when we listen to things like the buzz of a bee, the rattle of dried leaves, the summer heat saturated in the consistency of cicada song.
I heard it easily in India while sleeping, waking and napping to the oceanic monsoon wind outside my retreat room window. I felt it in the low vibration sensed in the sound of silence. It is easily audible when: in sitting, one just sits; in listening one just listens and in breathing, one just breathes. I re-recognized the sound one day as I helped care for a 96 year old woman.
I was walking to the laundry room when I heard a voice say “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” in a just-under-the-breath mantra-like melody. I looked up to see a hunched elder woman walk with a tall husband-like man supporting her arm as they moved side by side. In each step-by-concentrated-step her movement and mantra blended in rhythmic measure.
There it was – the sound of elders praying! So familiar, so near, so soothing. I recalled the same murmured meter I heard as a child in the Byzantine church I attended,in of all places,downtown Gary, Indiana. Talk about calmness in the midst of chaos!
The church was a "cacophonic" chamber that echoed with a chorus of elder Slavic women’s voices praying the rosary in their native tongue. It came from deep inside them, rising subtly but surely with the frankincense that floated from the sanctuary. The ancient Slavic tones drew us inward to the place where we can hear divine messages:
“Be still and know that I am God”.
“To pray without ceasing”
…and…
“For those who have ears, let them hear.”
I am thankful to hear the sound of elders praying. I am grateful to have heard it in the woman walking by me. It helps me to remember in each step and in every moment to prayerfully say and hear “thank you, thank you, thank you”.
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