I hear that phrase in my head: There is only one of us.  Wouldn’t it be interesting to go through the whole day considering that we are one huge organism–all of us tiny atoms or bacteria or photons in a galactic body.

Somehow it soothes the idea that I should be doing something big, something special, saving Japan, feeding the poor, working overtime.  I am a cog in a most excellent being, doing my precise “cogness” as best as I can.  Waking, moving, eating, typing, talking, worrying–everything as it should be for this little special “one of a kind” just like so many other millions of cogs.

It connects me to all you I don’t know, that we are on the same planet, breathing the same air, “at one” with each other.

It isn’t as easy as it sounds–to express myself.  I am an emotional person and I go up and down like waves–sometimes big and noisy, splashing everyone around me; sometimes tiny little lake waves like left over tears melting the sand.

And when I have some feelings about what YOU are doing wrong–well I certainly want to EXPRESS myself!  But that expression is not really about you–your actions are hitting a trigger inside of me and from all my years on the planet I want to gather resentment and make you change.  Those triggers have been set from ancient history, other lives, dead parents, trivial silly misinterpretations turned into massive fables of betrayal.  And I want YOU to pay for it.

I need to disengage myself from the story and allow myself to just rest on the path, sit on a little park bench and open my ears to the chorus of birds singing around me.  Let my heart hear the joy of life and let the waves of feeling wash me, soothe me, heal me through to grace.

So, I’ve been chanting “I love you” over and over again, as if I’m saying that to my God and She’s saying it to me.  But I still suffer, being human and all, with insecurity and lack of self-appreciation.  With a little inspiration, I’m now chanting “I love ME!”  And that seems to need an exclamation point with it.

If I am truly a child of the Divine, having an eternal burning flame of the Galactic Fire inside me, then the Divine is inside of me.  How can I not love the Divine-Me if I love the Dear One so much?!  It has revolutionized my tenderness to myself.

Thus, no matter mistakes (still have a human side), or stumbles, I am charged with enjoying every bit of this earthly paradise and bumper cars–on an adventure from pure spirit like a warrior trying a new feisty horse.

Letting Hafiz tell it:

I wonder if I’m isolating or taking time for myself.
I wonder if I’m crazy.
I wonder if I’ll ever want to make new friends again–or keep the old.
I wonder if I’ll ever want to talk on the phone for hours like I used to.
I wonder if I’m bad because I’m not grateful every moment for all I have.

I wonder if I’ll outlive my kids.
I wonder if I’ll be in a car accident.
I wonder if there’ll be an earthquake or tsunami here.
I wonder how I’ll die.

I wonder if the Divine thinks of me at all.
I wonder what it would be like to fly with my body through the air like an eagle.
I wonder if anyone ever reads this besides spammers.

What I’ll not wonder about today is that when I lean on the Divine, I do feel wonderful.  I am reminded that just because I wonder, and wander, I am not lost.  I am safe in Her arms.

That’s me–filled with myself, stuffed up, congested with selfish low-class problems.  If I only could, as Emerson said, “get my bloated self” out of the way.  Actually, I’m not sure he said that, but it’s a phrase that works for me.

I get so dull, so inert, that I believe life has no meaning.  Even a slight glance a the trees outside my window brings me laughter at that illusion.  Green, growth, movement, air–that’s life.  And all my contortions seeking more than that are bound to be doomed.  Making mountains out of a grain of sand.

Country-destroying earthquakes and the power of the gatherings of drops of water can change my attitude as to my little hangnail concerns.  The earth is shaking it up and our lives may change at any second.

I open my heart today to brilliance, light and kindness. 

And grab your towel.  At least that’s the suggestion in Hitchiker’s Guide to the Universe.  It seems like a good idea, you can always use a towel.

But when work gets frantic, when the boss seems to pressure instead of inspire, when the workers run around with furrowed brows–or all are understandably sick–a towel is just not enough.  How not to panic?  How to breathe in deep and long and sweet and easy?

This is when I am blessed with a view out my window to the trees.  They were waving and dancing yesterday in a strong wind off the coast.  Tossing their still-bare limbs to a rousing tune, shaking their fur-lined hair and letting the uncertain parts loose.

That’s my lesson for today–shake it off, do a little dance, let go and feel the grace-full gift of the breath of the Divine surround and fill me.

It’s like there is a wall that I keep bumping into.  I’m not sure where I want to go, but I keep bumping up against inertia, pouting, and resistance.  And once I bump, I get restless and irritated.  Fun cycle that is starting to bore me–and that’s a good sign.

What I plan to do is to just trace my fingers along the cool bricks, dance my hands along the windows, take a look at the details and just let it be there without a fight.

I am still walking with the Divine.  She can see over all walls and just giggles at my snotty reaction to being contained and blind.  “It’s like a surprise!” She says.  And I want her to warn me, feeling anxious about sudden curves in the path.

“You are an adventurer,” She reminds me, “Be true to where you are, and you then can embrace the new.”

So today I embrace the wall, sit against it, have a picnic and just let us be together.

Hafiz puts it this way:

The best I can do for a prayer sometimes is to set an intention to be grateful, aware and kind.  Starting the day with gratitude shifts my attitude for sure.  I love trees, glad I’m in a world with trees.  I love my car–love driving it no matter where.

I’m grateful that I’m aware of the Divine in everything, giggling at my stuffiness and crankiness while residing in this emerald earth.  Aware that I’m a putz sometimes, staring at my empty thimble in the midst of paradise.

Kind.  I want to be kind.  I don’t want to be a jerk or an asshole.  Done that, been there, it just leaves a rancid air trailing after me during the day.  And getting that smell out of the room just takes time.

So today I open up to be grateful, aware and kind.