At this very moment everything is absolutely perfect. I'm nestled on my bed with a big pile of pillows. Several weeks worth of clothes have been folded, ironed, and put away. I've dusted and vacuumed. To celebrate this new found sense of order, I've lit candles and am burning incense that I reserve for special occasions like this. It comes from the Tibetan refugee camp where I stayed in the oh-so-green hills of Southern India. While there, they showed me how they make it. I remember the way the aroma clung to the air and even my clothes as they ground the herbs and spices in an old, worn mortar and pestle. The smell of this particular incense reminds me of the extreme peacefulness that I felt after many months of India's chaos. It reminds me of Tashi, the smiling monk who brought me to the camp and who, over laughter and puffed rice, became a friend for life. It reminds me of sunshine. And so, unsurprisingly, I always feel comforted by its scent--as I do now.
Downstairs, Vinny is baking oatmeal raisin cookies and as these two smells wrap themselves around me, I am fairly certain that I've died and gone to heaven. I'm listening to Norah Jones and Beth Orton and Rickie Lee Jones on Pandora; the lamp sheds a soft light; my cat asleep at my feet; and the ceiling fan moves the air so-softly against my skin.
I'm thankful for this moment--because, to be honest, it's been a pretty crumb-dumb past couple of days. I've been feeling overwhelmed and disorganized and like I'm spinning my wheels and sputtering for air, but not getting anywhere.
After last night's post, I have been slowly arriving at the realization that something needs to change in my life--for real. I've been drowning in my own over-scheduled life. When I woke up, my ever-lasting cold had returned in the form of a sore throat and oogly sinus stuffiness. I stayed in bed until 8 and, of course, this threw all of my morning plans out the window. I felt anxious and frustrated and, at some point (as I was putting away mountains of clothes), I found myself feeling very angry about my under-paid work situation. "Fuck it!" I snapped at myself and to the air and to no one in particular. Ok...so I guess that today is the day for a few deep-rooted frustrations to rear their ugly heads. Should I be surprised?
Time feels like an absolute precious commodity these days. Always, there is so much of everything all at once, I find that I am unable to concentrate on any one thing. Sometimes I feel as though I give my time away too easily. Well, actually, I know this about myself--but old habits die hard though, don't they? This morning, during my fuck-it-pinnacle-of-frustration, I felt something in me shift. It was strange and I wish that I could find words to explain it, but all I can say is that molecules shifted. Does that explain what an epiphany feels like?
...the weird part:
Not even 15 minutes later, the phone rang. And, for now, let's just say that my faith in the universe has been restored.