I was laying in bed, caught somewhere between awake and a dream, and I had a fantastic thought for a blog. I think that may be part of my problem. I feel like I have to blog. I feel like it has to be good. Sometimes weeks go by and I start to feel uneasy. I feel guilt. I remember all of the things I’ve heard and read about blogging- that if you don’t stay consistent then you won’t be successful- oh god, I think. I am so inconsistent. I am never going to be any good at this. And then I think,
In Og Mandino’s book, The Greatest Miracle in the World, Simon basically tells Og that he has to be good and useful to himself before he’s of any use to anyone else. The instructions that come with the God Memo and with being a “Ragpicker” are that you have to read the Memo every day for 100 days before you can even share it. Not before you can help anyone, but before you can even offer it to them. 100 days. If you’re thinking that’s not so bad, good for you. I’ve read it one thousand times, I have it tattooed on my arm, but I have never sat down, night after night, for 100 days and read that memo. I have never taken my piece of rag and safety pinned it to myself, nor have I ever seen another ragpicker with the talisman, but I know that if I did do these two things, I would suddenly be surrounded by people just like me. But I don’t. And then I think,
I am listening to The Power of Now, again. I love this book. I’ve been reading it for two years now and I am so excited to finally get it on a new level…yet the nagging feeling of, you really don’t need this book, persists. The voice in my head that whispers, “Honey, you’ve got this. You are this. You know this because this is you.” has become more frequent than not. This morning I was laying in bed and thinking- which is becoming increasingly noticeable, my thinking I mean- I was thinking that it really is that simple. Be here now, love here always. Be here. Be love. That simple…
And then I don’t know what happened. The next thought I became aware of was this;
How in the hell did I get to thinking about pickles? Because that’s what I was doing. I was thinking about pickles. For me, this is proof that the mind/ego/queen/habit/fear, is alive and well. Thoughts like, I’ll never be any good at this, and, I don’t do this enough, are proof of that. Realizations of what we want to do and who we are at our essence that end with the unanswered question of, Why not, are also proof of the same. Sometimes I think that it’s the questions themselves that get in the way after while. I think in the beginning of my awakening, I had to ask questions. First I asked, in a million different ways, what’s wrong with the world? Then I asked, What’s wrong with me? Sometimes I vacillate between those two questions like a mad dog caught in the middle of a vicious game of keep away. But sitting here now, I wonder…
Aren’t I the answer?
I end up at pickles the moment I get too far for comfort into the now and love. As soon as my ego, the Queen, picks up on what I’m doing and where I’m going, she craves pickles. If someone asks you what you’re thinking or feeling, and though the answer is grounded in presence and love- it could hurt and or offend the person asking. Most of the world is not grounded- and so the answer becomes,
“I was thinking of pickles. Weird, right? Pickles.”
Pickles are the safer answer. Safer than being true to ourselves in the face of what may not be true for others. Pickles are easier for everyone to understand- even when what you were thinking had nothing to do with anyone else. Sometimes I think pickle thoughts when I’m thinking of things too big for my little brain to wrap around…or anyone else’s brain for that matter. Sometimes I think pickles when I know that, out of all of the things that are in my heart and head at that moment, it’s the only thing anyone near me is going to understand. Pickle thoughts are the ones we think when anyone and everyone, including ourselves (aka ego) are uber uncomfortable with the ones we started out thinking while completely hooked up to the presence and love.
This morning I was laying in bed, caught somewhere between awake and a dream, and I had a fantastic thought for a blog. It was not pickles. It was a question;
What if we were true to ourselves? What if we never told a lie thinking that it was to “protect” someone, anyone- because we know that there is no protection in fear and that we can’t be responsible for what others think and feel about what we think and feel? What if we lived solely in the truth, in the present, in love? What if we dropped our ego based, preconceived notions of those things and lived as such? And I found truth, presence and peace in these questions, of which I am the answer to…
And then I found myself thinking,
How in the hell did I get to thinking about pickles?
This is how enlightenment works for the common folk my friends…