My Mom's Coming to Visit

My mom's coming to stay with me for an entire month over the holidays. She is set to arrive, twelve suitcases in hand, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and stay until the Friday after Christmas.This will be the longest she has stayed with me and I'm a bit nervous. Hoping my brother will take her for a few days now and again, maybe like a library check out system. If not, it's going to be an interesting month for me.

As a writer I'm a solitary person during the day. I get up, slog to the computer, peck out a few thousand words, eat cereal by the handful straight from the box (I have a special talent I can pick out the pink hearts from the Lucky Charms without even looking), brush my teeth, and repeat the process again at lunch. Having my mother here - she who processes every thought she has out loud - is going to be a challenge.

"April, do you know where I put my coffee?" "April, do you ever watch Bones?" "April, you should really dress more like the girl on Numbers. She has your personality and shape."

I'm going to have to find a different spot to write. To read. To exercise. To think. My house is not that big and there may be little reprieve for me. She settles in, roosts, swallowing up the entire room with her presence. Worst of all, she hogs the video games.

Still, I wouldn't change it for the world. I miss my mom. Some way, somehow, she has become one of my best friends. It will be worth the constant updates on Murder She Wrote reruns, the declarations about how much better we were in the 1950s, and the TV blasting at sonic boom levels just to have her here.

Mothers are interesting. You love them. Resent them. Move away from them. Come back to them. Seek comfort and wisdom from them, then tell them to stay the hell out of your life.

And my mother, with her tarot cards, neon red hair, penchant for losing things, and a heart of gold, is the most interesting mother of them all. I'm a lucky woman.

Where's My Zen Again?

It's almost one in the morning and I'm watching my husband sleep. His breathing is slow and measured, and his eyelids flutter gently, indicating he is deep in dreams. A smile crosses his handsome face. He murmurs something, chuckles, and rolls over. I sit up taller, trying to eavesdrop on his dreams, wondering who is making him smile. He calls my  name and I give him a satisfied nod, then plod off to the computer to do anything but sleep.

I'm in too much pain to sleep. Somehow I hurt my back. It could be that I was working out without stretching first (bad bad!) or that I was lugging around a pack of books and a computer which probably weighed more than I do (at least before they offered me the free pastry at Panera) or that I sat cross-legged at my computer for three hours without taking a break, or finally, that I was rearranging the garage to get ready for our weekend yard sale. At any rate, my back protesteth and I am screwed.

In the first few months of the New Year I had planned to be more Zen (see first post), or at least to slow down. Six months later I can report that my Zen Experiment was an epic failure. Although I'm happy to be living my energetic life, lying here in pain tonight makes me realize Zen and I are still worlds apart. I'm still doing, running, and moving. And I'm still worrying incessantly, counting down time like its the last piece of pizza at a Jenny Craig reunion. But sitting here tonight, hoping this pain goes away before I chew through my own leg, I realize I have to recommit. If I don't I may end up killing myself before I ever see those goals I work so hard on.

If I'm not making any sense blame it on whatever it was I took in the dark to get rid of my malady, probably something left over from my husband's root canal. The bad news is that my back still hurts. The good news is that I can't feel my teeth.

I hear a noise from the bed. My husband murmurs again, snapping me back to the present. I smile. For just a moment I'm zen.

"Honey," he says when he notices I'm not lying beside him, "get back in bed. I miss you."

I miss him too. If I can't sleep maybe I will just be there with him, listening to him breathe, content that he at least is having good dreams tonight. The medicine is kicking in...and I'm starting to have good dreams too. Too bad I'm still awake.

No Recipe for a Perfect Life

This whole Zen thing is a lot more complicated than I thought. Ive tried everything. I even wrote up a list of things I wanted to accomplish this week and declared that once the things on that list were done, I would devote the rest of my time to 'just being'. Clearly a flawed system right from the get go. Only, I didn't see it. I was simply trying to fit this Eastern philosophy into my Western life.

Besides having a list (totally unzen I bet) I realized that there really is no 'end'. I cant simply cross things off a list and then spend the rest of my time in mindless bliss. There are always more things to do. As soon as I finished my list (on Tuesday) I thought of 40 other things that should go on the list and manually wrote them in. Now, I'm stressed because my list is longer than I am. I may have to buy taller refrigerator to post it on.

Which brings me to an interesting revelation about myself. I enjoy doing things. I like to get up and work out and write and clean and visit and shop and see my husband and play video games and...and...and.

And surprisingly enough, when I am doing these things I am in my 'zen' mode. I am happy and present and living life. But when I am thinking about what I should do to make my life more meaningful I am countering all that I am working towards.I've learned that I don't need to resent all of the activities that infringe upon my life because that is my life. Life doesn't have to be a certain, prescribed way. Life is just life.

My husband took me to lunch today (right after we worked out together) and I was thinking of all the things I still needed to do. His mind, however, was on the present. He took my hands across the table and said "Wow, isn't life good?"

I looked at him. He had a million things going on in his work world and was getting messages from his employees as we ate, but his mind was right there with me. He had it right. I squeezed his hands in return and said, "Yes, baby. It really is."

Zen - Day Two

Ding. Ding. Dinggggggggggggggg.

My new android app was just what I needed for my meditations. The gentle bells told me when to breathe in, and when to breathe out. In with the good energy. Out with the bad energy. Breathe in love. Release neurosis. And the best part was that it had a timer. I no longer had to open one eye to sneak a quick peek at the alarm clock in order to ensure that I had meditated for the vowed ten minutes. The dings simply stopped dinging.

When it was done I tossed my phone aside and jumped out of the bed, thrilled that I had completed my Day Two Zen assignment on meditation. Now what else could I do?

"You really don't have to start until New Years." My husband explained to me when I called him at work with my exciting news. "That's when most people start their resolutions."

"But I'm so excited! I can't wait to be Zen. I need to start NOW."

"Yeah, okay baby. I got a meeting. Good luck."

I glanced around the house, wondering what else could contribute to my impending enlightenment. If I cleaned the place really well I would most certainly feel less cluttered. But I didnt want to. I hated cleaning.  I weighed it in my mind. I read that to find true peace simply do what you feel like doing. At that moment all I really wanted was to watch Ellen on TV and munch on pretzels. But my higher self, that nagging part that always knows better, said that cleanliness would give me a more lasting happiness than daytime tv. My higher self should hire a maid. So begrudgingly I straightened pillows, unpacked suitcases from our holiday trip, and washed dried on dirty dishes. My eye twitched and my teeth clenched. I was anxious to get back to my state of happiness. It's hard to be Zen when your soul wants to be free but there is day old spagetti in a crock pot.

Whilst I was cleaning away like a bitter Snow White my subconscious was at work trying to remember something: an article I had recently read that was trying to writhe its way into my brain. It was something about embracing the things you dont want to do and do them with love and gratitude. Thank the Universe for giving you the enemy that challenges you, the obstacles that push your growth, or the dirty socks you don't want to touch. Once you accept the negatives and welcome them into your life, true happiness begins.

I took a deep breath.

"I am grateful for the dirty floor that I must vacuum. Because it helps me to..." I tapped my fingers against my thigh as I thought. I had nothing.

"I am grateful for the laundry my husband somehow accumulates that I must fold...it makes me appreciate..." Being single?

Stop it!

I closed my eyes and took another breath, really trying to feel the energy around me. I sat for a moment and felt the floor beneath my feet. The warmth of the air touch my skin. I breathed deeper, taking in the scent of lavendar dishwashing detergent. And then it hit me. My aha moment. The floor. The laundry. The dust on the TV. Everything was connected and I was at the hub of it. My fingers tingled and relaxed.

"I am thankful for the house I live in. It provides me with warmth and shelter and a refuge of my own. And I am thankful for the opportunity to make it more beautiful. I will go about my chores with gratitude in my heart, for all my blessings."

Sometimes there is magic, even in this mundane world. And for awhile, as I cleaned, I felt it. I was one with the world, enjoying work I had only minutes before found deplorable. I didnt run from task to task trying to get it all done as fast as I could. I noticed every moment as I worked. The way the plates squeaked when I ran a wet cloth across them. The way the laundry warmed my hands as I took it from the dryer. It was beautiful. Life was beautiful.

My Zen didnt last all day but I did experience a shift in my thinking that morning. I've come to realize that each experience is what you make of it. It's amazing what a little attitude adjustment can do for the soul.

The Zen Experiment - Day 1

I have been giving my New Year's resolution a lot of thought this year. Ideas came and went.  I discarded my old standby of losing those last five pounds (make that seven now) or on curbing my addiction to Hallmark TV (it's porn for trite junkies). And I won't be flossing anymore than I already do, which usually consists of three judicious days before an impending dental visit. No. This year I wanted to do something truly fearless. And since jumping off of anything higher than a basketball hoop was out of the question, I was left with the only one option. Letting go.

I will, I declared to myself and my husband, find my zen. I will stop obsessing about my hair, the dimples in my thighs, or on where to find the best deal on a 20 pack of toilet paper. In the grand scheme of things its really not that important. The only thing that really matters is sapping out some sort of happiness in this crazy world and I am determined to do it...no matter what. My husband was all for it, especially if it meant that I wouldnt give him the look when he tossed his coat over the back of the sofa instead of hanging it up where it belongs. So he gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that he would support my decision any way he could, and trotted off to kill some bad guys in one of his video games.

I racked my brain thinking of ways that I could become more Zen. Perhaps I could forego brushing my hair on some days, which is really a pain and only gets messed up again anyways.  Or even better, shave my head the way some monks do. Then I would never have to worry about my hair again! Scratch that, I thought. The growout has to be awful and shaving my head daily would be time consuming. Being Zen should save time. Back to no brushing. Except when I was going out. Or company was coming over. Or a new magazine suggests a fun new style that would look perfect on me. This was just getting confusing.

There had to be other ways I could become Zen. Maybe I would get up and just bowl. We live right across the street from a bowling alley and its something I had always wanted to try anyways. Wouldnt that be awesome? I could just get up and walk across the street (with sucked in gut and neatly combed hair) and just start bowling. Unless there was a league thing going on. Then I would probably have to wait for awhile for a lane to open up. I could kill time playing dance dance revolution in the arcade whilst waiting for the place to clear out. This was a good start. And in my new Zen mode I could do things like that if I so chose. Maybe next Wednesday.

It turns out that thinking about being Zen isnt so Zen. I'm a little worried that I'm off to a bad start. But it is a start. And for the next four weeks I will learn to be Zen or die trying.

In one month I will be a calmer, less neurotic version of myself who is happy and healthy and thriving in a 'just be' attitude. I will not feel the need to constantly produce or create to prove my worth. I will no longer point out to my husband the housework that I did while he was away (I may not even do housework). And I will allow the Universe to work through me in whatever creative fashion it deems appropriate. I WILL let go.

Now if I can just pry my fingers from the ledge....

whee!