“Do you really,” my good friend asked, “want to be an old woman who can’t remember things? Do you really want to lose all your faculties?”
Sigh. She had read my latest blog post.
“Ummm, no,” said I. “If the Universe is asking, I would like to be completely healthy, happy and wise and live to a ripe old age with all faculties intact.”
“So just wondering–why did you say you wanted to be that other kind of old lady? I mean, why did you put that out there? It’s like telling God that you want that.”
I adore my friend. Just sayin’. She’s the kind of person that exudes positive affirmations. She’s always smiling. She tapes positive sayings to her refrigerator. Sayings that I love. Sayings that really remind a person to stay on track, not to get lost in the foggy recesses of a fearful mind.
She had me scared for a couple seconds. Yikes, did I just DO that? Did I tell the Universe I wanted to lose all my faculties and memory, just to be radiant? (Yes, Kathy, you did, even though it was under the guise of quoting the book Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature by Kathleen Dean Moore.)
This secondary blog is to set the record straight, just in case the Universe doesn’t know what I want and depends upon clear intent. If the Universe is going to do what I want. (Quite often the Universe just does what IT wants and I go along for the ride.)
I want to find radiance in every one of life’s circumstances. To discover love hiding out among all the things we fear. To look squarely in the face of whatever Life offers and say–oh here you are, Love, completely disguised as something sorrowful and terrible and painful, shining in the cracks between what hurts.
I want to face into the mind’s fears and see how many of them are false. I want to embrace the radiance that shines underneath and over and around the mind’s intentions. To learn how to sit in the scary woods. To shine the flashlight in the dark of the unconscious and to reach out compassionately to the wolves and snakes and bear.
So do I want to lose all my memories and faculties? Oh, no, please. That is not my preference, thank you kindly, all-listening Universe who always allows reversals of limited intent. But if you do knock in an unwanted direction of Alzheimer’s or cancer or car accident or loneliness or depression or Lou Gehrig’s disease or terrorism or boredom–I want to embrace the radiant love that’s at the core. To relax and feel God in the scary woods, Buddha reflected in the bear’s shining eyes as he approaches.