While working on being comfortable with uncertainty, I also have to keep in mind the practice of being at ease with satisfaction.  To be moderately satisfied with life.  YUK–for a drama queen, chaos-addict, this sounds like a fate worse than death–at least dying would be an adventure!

Being comfortable with serenity has been like re-wiring every bone, nerve and cell in my body–and I’m not “cured” for sure.  When nothing is wrong, something feels out of place.  After growing up in a constantly changing, unexpected, unspoken sense of unfulfillment brought that very familiar belief that life is struggle.  There’s always a problem, it’s one thing or another, preparing for the other shoe to drop.

In peace that passes all understanding, in the middle of my dad’s memorial service, laughing.  Supporting my mom with a gathering of siblings that hadn’t happened in over 3 decades, we are joking.  We sleep contentedly on the floor of a tiny apartment.  Shit on my shoes is just a cuss word or two while I wipe it off.  A fruit fly hatching in the kitchen means I stay out of there.  But in the struggle mind-set, it is horrific, it is smelly and awful and it is wrong to be laughing at a funeral.

Perhaps it is about the false beliefs that we carry around that perhaps served someone in our past at some time.  Maybe so much of survival is seen as a struggle that it becomes a multi-generational tradition to worry about money, fight against the machine, rally for rights, argue for my position.

I am so grateful to recognize that I can choose to anchor my body, soul and heart in this here time and place, the lullaby of fingers on keys, bread baking in the oven, autumn sun on brilliant leaves.  Nothing to understand or figure out. 

A human just and brilliantly being.