"What If"/Direct Your Gaze Elsewhere

Tuesday and lacking enthusiasm for the day.....but that's OK. These kinds of days have their place too. Thinking much of it has to do with Day#2 of no wheat or dairy. Jones-ing!!! Doesn't help that I'm clueless about all the things people do to compensate - things like soy or almond milk in coffee, non-dairy cheese, gluten free baked goods. I have none of those things (will have to go to Whole Foods today and spend quality time in the aisles reading labels). When I open my frig or cabinets there is almost nothing I can have. This morning for breakfast - cheese-less omelet cooked with spray, sugar-free applesauce and six almonds. That's OK, right? It just took a while to eliminate most of what was available to me (out with the Seed-uction bread, the cheese drawer will become a something-else-drawer, yogurt and cottage cheese given away as well as all the crackers, granolas, and other wheat based staples. Think this will be a rough week - I'm actually feeling queasy and achy - are these already withdrawal symptoms?

Last night Petterino's with Judy and Bernie - fun - we sang well. The cast from The Gift of the Magi was there and regaled us with tunes from the show. Then a special treat - a cast member from Les Miserables who sang the song "On My Own". It was absolutely beautiful, delivered perfectly - showy but intimate and believable. I wept a little.

This morning, read an article in the NYT that caught my eye, The Snake in the Garden. It was on the "most e-mailed" list so the topic must resonate. And even though it wasn't a holiday piece, it was relevant as we ramp up to what can be a very anxious time of year. Oh, and to underscore that? Yesterday I went through pounds and pounds of mail - all the unwanted catalogues that assault my mailbox - catalogues I lug upstairs - a full bagful every day that I have to sort through, put in the recycling bin and then bag up on trash day and lug again to the alley. One makeup catalogue caught my eye - on the cover - "Holiday Survival Guide". I thought, "How terribly awful that we have institutionalized holiday excesses to the point where where we need survival guides!!"  How about a new possibility - writing our own "Holiday Thriving Guide"?

Anyway, back to the article. The writer, Pico Iyer, struggles with anxious voices in his head - he even wrote a book called, The Man Within My Head. He writes about going to an idyllic retreat and spending the time worrying about things being perfect for his friend who made plans to come for the final weekend. He wants to share the perfectness of the experience, wants the clouds to be picturely perfect, frets about the upcoming forecast, worries if some of the Christian decorations might trigger unwanted memories - hopes the food he prepares will please. Each day in solitude he churns these thoughts in his head, making himself crazy but unable to relinquish the worry - latching onto it for something to do, something to fill the void and the emptiness of the retreat's solitude. His mind can't still and empty out - can't simply take in the view of the ocean and the "golden poppies and lupines everywhere".  It needs to command and control - and worry.

The irony, Pico Iyer describes, is that the friend never comes - cancels at the last minute. "I realized that the only thing I'd done was to exile myself from Paradise, anguishing over what never came to pass." He goes on to describe that the things we worry about rarely come to pass - that the bad stuff that happens most often comes straight out of the blue. What's more, when bad things happen (and they do), we typically handle them with calm and grace - adversity brings out the best in most of us.

All the real challenges of my, or any life - the forest fire that did indeed destroy my home and everything in it; the car crash that suddenly robbed dozens of us of a cherished friend; my 13-year-old daughter's diagnosis of cancer in its third stage - came out of the blue; they're just what I had never thought to worry about. And every time some kind of calamity has come into my life, I and everyone around me have responded with activity, unexpected strength, even an all but unnatural calm......it's only when we're living in the future, the realm of "what if," that we brilliantly incapacitate ourselves.

Landmark would have us exercise a new muscle - giving up the feeling that something is wrong (or about to be wrong). Think of it! Bad stuff is absolutely going to happen to you and those you love - there's shit out there that's waiting in store. BUT, it's not the shit you think is going to happen! My sister never in a thousand years thought she was going to get breast cancer - it doesn't run in our family. Families on the East Coast were probably not spending time worrying about hurricanes before Sandy! I remember being on the phone with my brother making plans for a joint gift for our parents when a call came in - he asked me to hold - I waited for a long time. When he came back on the phone, he told me it was the State Police - his wife's parents were killed while crossing the street. The call came from Utica New York - the parents had stopped there for the night en route to spend Christmas with David and Nancy. They were run over while crossing the street, going to dinner.

The cure? Pico Iyer instructs, "Direct our gaze elsewhere." When those anxious thoughts do a bug dance in our heads, recognize them as unhelpful noise. Maybe spend a moment or two taking them on and saying something like "Yup, that might happen. I might end up on the streets. My furnace might blow up. The roof might blow off. My grandchild might run across the street and get hit by a bus. I might lose all my teeth. He might leave." Yup, yup, yup. It's all possible but improbable too. It's more likely your future will throw you a curve.

Better to just surrender to the unknowing - direct your gaze elsewhere.  Enjoy the lupines (or more apt for this time of year, a crackly fire) - it's what's in front of you.

Peace,

Sarah