Time for Truth
The progression of morning light illuminating my bedroom is my first indication of time. I wait for inspiration from either the grey, pink or golden light and rise accordingly. The ticks between seconds, minutes and hours have become irrelevant since I was laid off. When at peace with this rhythmic movement of time, I admire the flowers on my patio, the lush green of the nature preserve below, the swish of the palm tree or the flight of hawks and hummingbirds. Then without warning I am overcome with constriction in my throat and chest and the pressure to take some action that will earn money. I jump up to check emails, texts, Facebook, LinkedIn.
Sometimes, true inspiration strikes and I send off my resume or portfolio, connect with someone who may make a difference, or research book and magazine promotions. But, more often than not there is little that needs my attention. A little skittish, I start to think of all the food I can eat in my fridge or start playing solitaire on the computer. But this week, inspired by my boys’ carefree, lightheartedness during Spring Break, I am trying something new. I breathe through the anxiety caused by nothingness. After several deep breaths, the pressure lessens and a little voice inside my head whispers that it’s okay to be still and enjoy the exuberance and unfettered vibe of spring fever. Breathe. I drop into the “now moment.” Breathe. Gradually the fears of the future drop away. There is a time and a season for everything. Now is the time to awaken my True Self, honor my True Feelings and be freed from that what keeps me off from my True Purpose. Priceless. Timeless.
So instead of cleaning the counter for the third time this morning, I join in with Skyler, belting out a Led Zeppelin tune, dancing like mad around the kitchen. Then listened intently, undistracted as he relayed how he was going “gypsy” today with friends and leaving their cars behind, taking the bus to Laguna Beach to explore some caves in El Moro Canyon. I reminded him to take some chocolate chip cookies that Kobe and I made earlier in the week. An hour later, Kobe demonstrates a science experience of water, vapor and atmospheric pressure imploding a can. He shares some of the funnier moments of his week-long overnight excursions with friends. Then he takes off in my car for another adventure. And I’m left to the quiet nothingness. I check the emails and there are no messages. Breathe, breathe, just breathe, I tell myself. Maybe I could write. And so I do. Because although the sun is high in the sky now, this too shall pass and before I know it, I'll be watching the twilight recede in the nature preserve below.
