Well Below The Surface

Sometimes…. Uh-oh. Whenever I start a post out with “sometimes” I turn all reflective and deep. I’m tired of reflective and deep. I want some shallow fun. I want giggles and twinkies. I want window shopping and red toenails. I want my favorite movie with extra buttery popcorn. NO MORE DEEP!

I should have been born with scuba gear on because my soul isn’t content unless it’s well below the surface, being carried away by mystical currents to esoteric places. I thrive on discovering the sunken significances of life—treasures lost by ancient vessels with limited days—much like you and I. The winds prevail, the ship sinks, (the ship always sinks) and the booty is pitched into the common deep, where aqueous angels guard the murky loot, sharing it with only those bold enough to brave the brine and claim the inheritance of past generations.

The ship needn’t sink in vain, nor life be lived for naught, for each soul is, in and of itself, a pearly treasure, having suffered many years of abrasions and barnacles in hopes of discovering the Jiminy Cricket truth on how to live this life. And how shall we live it? Bored and bitter? Mad and maniacal? Unhappy, unsettled, depressed and drunk?

Being somewhat practical in nature, I focused my search on the simplest aspects of life: the breathe in and out—get up and go of living. Like how to rise with joy and close my eyes at the end of the day in peace. Simple enough. Right? Wrong! I’ve thrown blue-faced tantrums before surrendering to a flood of Gethsemane tears. I’ve read a litany of mystics ( some with some pretty iffy spiritual connections) and then studied the scriptures in both Greek and Hebrew. I’ve fallen from more bandwagons than a drunken gypsy, and in the patient silence of nightfall, scanned the dark heavens for Divinity only to find a trillion sets of ironic eyes winking back at me.

I’ve tried it all. I even met Jesus on a deserted beach when I was 19, (who looked nothing like his pictures) only to have him say to me, “Seek, and ye shall find.”. Well gee Jesus, I thought you’d give me a free booklet of sagely wisdom. You mean I still have to learn how to live this life? I have to go back to error and experience? Yeah, that was a huge bummer, but luckily I didn’t have to return to the search alone. I now had a friend I could drag through the mess with me. Lucky Jesus.

Many years later, on a very ordinary day, I discovered the answer to my question in a book that had been in my possession for quite some time: The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle (thank you Oprah for recommending it). Like Dorothy in Oz, I discovered that the answer had been with me all along I just hadn’t recognized it. How shall I live this life? I shall live it one lip-licking moment at a time. Ha!

I know it seems I’m overly simplifying things here, but it really is that simple, for in this present moment is where God has set His throne. It’s where the magic lives. The love. The creativity. The peace. I have the power to hush the ghosts of my past and dreads of the future when I live in the ever present now. Always. New. Like right now. Here. With you.

Life is still a huge challenge littered with the debris of experimentation on how to actually stay in the moment and ignore my ever chattering thoughts, (that’s another 100 posts) but at least now I have a blissful basilica right here on earth where my life is contemporary and vital.

So there you have it: the culmination of 55 years of Leah’s scuba-souling, nutshelled into one simple moment. It amazes me how much you can fit into a moment.

Okay, enough deep stuff for today. I’m heading back up to the surface. I have some Christmas Shopping to do. Perhaps I’ll pick up some Rudolf-Red nail polish for these toes of mine. They’ll be real Christmassy—mistletoes!

Sorry. I couldn’t resist. Tis the season isn’t it?