How many of you go about your day at lightning speeds? You know who you are. Constantly checking e-mail, facebook, twitter. Texting your friend or family member about where you are and what you are doing. Oh, let's check our bank balance for the third time today. That's a good one. Or, how about just getting up and going to work. It's a hustle to pull the thoughts together after a bad night's sleep on Lunesta or Ambien (quit eating and putting that thong on backwards at three a.m.). You're in the shower, you're figuring out clothes, you're getting the dog out in the yard, fed, and then back in before your blasting a bagel in the toaster...no, that's too slow...and, cereal, who eats a slow bowl of Cheerios in the a.m. It's Gogurt or a power bar in the car where you race to work and then race to do all the crap they want you to do in a window of eight hours...then it's home to rewind and figure out why there's a bagel on the floor, the *coffee maker is half full (or empty) and there are three pair of shoes on the floor and the bed still unmade from Monday morning. I'm tired just typing about it. Go. Go. Go. It has to become Slow. Slow. Slow. Or just stop for a second.
I'm jobless. And, I find that I'm still behind on all the crap I have to do. You have your list, too. Don't you. Come on.
Yesterday, I decided I would create my own new mantra. Much like Eckhart Tolle. He says we should live our lives with "no inner resistance" and to live in a state of "grace, ease, and lightness." Does Tolle have children? Does Tolle have a blackberry? No he just eats them. Just kidding, Tolle. I love you.
At any rate, here it is. Slow. Joy. Grounded. That is, Go Slow(ly). Find Joy. Stay Grounded. That's my new mantra. So, I went flying to the store with my dog in tow. My sweet shepherd mix named River (she's the Someday in the books I write). Then my mantra came at the first light, symbolic for sure. Slow. Joy. Grounded. Okay, I let go of the accelerator, patted my dog on the head, and listened to my body (that's the grounded part). It said, "You're tired, Ruth. Don't let the cereal aisle at the store make you crazy." Cool, I can do that.
I went to the store to get a bunch of stuff as I found out. My grocery list had six things. I purchased seventy-two items. At the store, I stayed slow and wandered finding the items needed. At the cereal aisle (my nemesis), an old lady yelled at me to help her. She'd dropped coupons all over the floor. I bent down and picked them up. She must have been ninety-two. I wanted to immediately adopt her, drive her home, and help her with her groceries. Slow. Slow. Slow. But, lo, I just picked them up and told her to have a good day. "You, too." She said and smiled gratefully.
At my truck, the lady helped me put the ten bags in the back where River sat patiently waiting. The lady asked to pet her and I said that she was a retired therapy dog. She petted her and then giggled. I giggled at her giggling. What's so funny? I asked River to move forward and the bag lady petted her again and they had a sweet dog/human moment. Then, for some odd reason, this lady from the grocery store began to laugh hysterically at my dog - or, rather, with my dog. Incredible. I laughed, too. River is pretty hysterical and cute.
Joy. Joy. Joy.
I went home and something told me to stay grounded instead of hustling to make the Chili for dinner. I watched a bit of Oprah and saw my favorite. Barbra Streisand. She sang "The Way We Were." I cried as I lay on the couch. I love that movie. I love Oprah. Then, later, I went for a walk with my beautiful girlfriend to smell the leaves, the wind, and to feel the asphalt beneath my leather shoes. Grounded. Grounded. Well, you know the rest.
I'm off to check my e-mail, and to facebook and twitter this to my loyal following. Then I'll do some internet searches on jobs. River and the cat are at my side sleeping.
Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming. Slow. Joy. Grounded. My new mantra making me feel my life again.
*The best coffee in Richmond.