Tension

Driving in the car today, my daughter piped up from the back, "It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?" And I wasn't quite sure if she was serious. She hasn't yet mastered the art or subtlety of sarcasm, hyperbole, or facetiousness; thus, she tends to be a pretty sincere communicator. So I sort of already knew the answer but still asked, "You really think it's pretty today?"

"Yes," she said emphatically. "There are so many colors and trees. I like the houses and all the flowers. They look so pretty." And, for the umpteenth time since her birth my very own little Buddha offered a new nugget of wisdom in her usual disarming way.

All I had seen was the rain; all I had felt was the rush of squeezing in yet another chore before naptime and worrying about the lack of water or juice for the longish ride home. My worldview consisted of the cold, the grey, the damp, the rush, the stressed out, the mud and wet and messysplatteredsplashyhurrying.

It was not until she described her view that I saw the bright yellow buds lining the road and the multicolored tulips standing at attention to eagerly drink up the day's light spring shower. I noticed how all the grass had turned bright green and how beautiful the stately red brick of neighborhood historic homes looked when contrasted against the slate blue sky.

Sometimes it is easy to forget how much control I have over my experience. How one small adjustment in my thinking or perception can significantly alter my entire worldview... rippling through emotions, physical sensations, and all manner of head-locked living to create a new space from which to see the world.

Unfortunately, as soon as I put her down for her nap, I went right back into my stressed-out, travel-readying, pre-worrying mindset. And just as I began typing this entry, I noted a choking weight of tension across my shoulders and neck... and a nasty little twinge in the center of my back.

Lost as easily as it was gained. There's a lesson right there.

Thich Nhat Hanh, one of my favorite Buddhists, said: "People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle."

Tension is the result of ignoring those miracles. It's akin to burying our heads in the dirt and letting elements of beauty, hope, comfort, or inspiration - abundant and ever-present in multiple areas of our lives - remain consciously unnoticed. And it is a miracle to remember to be present and open to such amazement and awe... to see the yellow buds of trees instead of the oppressive cold of rain.

Possessing that sort of mindset - the one that finds happiness and refuses to cultivate worry - is a form of enlightenment. When we see it in young children, I think we are more apt to call it innocence. But it's no less miraculous stamped with a different label; it's still Buddha-nature just the same.

May you notice something beautiful today. May your tension leave as easily as it entered.

Pre-Worry

My husband is my dharma buddy. Not that I study the dharma at present, nor does he. But he's still my buddy and he still helps me find my way. So it seems a fitting term.


One thing he continually helps me remember is the ridiculousness of pre-worry. Pre-worry, as we discuss it, is the stuff that overtakes you before you even really know what's going on. It's the flights of fancy and panic your mind takes... the tightness in your chest that is ultimately linked to your imagined series of outcomes, rather than actual, tangible outcomes. It's a smoke screen... a neurotic response... a spinning of one's emotional and mental wheels - fruitless and messy.

I am very good at pre-worry. One might even say I am a master pre-worrier. I have imagined conversations in my head; see whole scenes of ramifications, conflicts, triumphant arguments, and dismal failures that unfold like narrative torrents.

Here is what I have learned about pre-worry: it never helps. Never. It has never been a positive, productive, present kind of response in any situation.

So... today, when trying to do some proactive legwork on the phone with my insurance company as I struggled to locate a good retina specialist in the area, I was afforded yet another opportunity to work on curbing my propensity toward pre-worry.

I was told there were no specialists in my area. Which meant any appointments (which I need, at this point, yearly to follow up on my eye surgeries) would be considered "out of network." It also meant any emergency surgery (which is a possibility... a 5% possibility for each eye, I think... maybe higher on the left because that one didn't actually fall off all the way - so it still could) would be considered "out of network."

Panic! scream my insides. And thus begins the pre-worry. I cry for a bit. I text Andy we need to talk at lunch. We discuss our options.

After my initial panic and crying... I do manage to calm down. I manage to stay mobilized... which, at this point in my learning curve is progress. I re-check everything... which leads to the location of one specialist, two hospitals where surgeries would be covered, and an appointment for my yearly check-up at the end of November.

And in the wake of this wee emotional roller coaster, I am thinking again about the larger lesson provided by such worry cycles. Though it might be argued worry is a form of caution and might therefore make us more attuned, more wary, and more able to handle stress... it might also be said it's a waste of adrenaline, leaving us - at best - exhausted from the ravages of panic or - at worst - paralyzed and inactive.

All in all, this was a rather gentle lesson about in living in the present moment. It's a touchstone to hang onto when I get too anxious about my eyes. Really anything. I must ask myself: Do you know the answer yet? (No.) Then why get all worked up about something that is not really true? (Um...) Has the future you imagined actually come to be? (No.) Then stop. Stop investing in unreality.

May you be free from worry today in any form. And, if you do worry, may you see the present reality clearly so you can continue to move forward.