On page 94 of the book, she says, "Say Yes to the Mess." Now, what's funny is that my mind went off on a whole 'nother riff than the text of her book, which at that point is talking about what to do when faced with seriously frightening situations. Instead, the words triggered one of those blissful "aha" moments when I saw the whole arc of my life, in all its odd juxtapositions and uncertainties, and felt calm. I said yes to the mess that is my life. I may be an aspiring mystic, but this kind of acceptance isn't my strong suit, as you have no doubt noticed. I envy, oh gosh, yes it's true, my friends with homes or posh apartments, husbands, kids, grands, family money, tenured professorships, you name it. Spirituality goes right out the window at 61 when "interesting" has gone on just few years too long. And yet, which of these friends has no mess? Behind the scenes are medical crises and family fireworks and financial meltdowns and depression. Some of my contemporaries may be ready to pack it in and drive a solitary camper around North America. And at the other end of the scale, I am living with untold bounty and freedom by comparison with most of the world, including local neighbors. I woke up in a bed. I ate breakfast this morning. I was paid for a few hours of helping out at a compatible workplace.
So it's saying "yes" to the mess that is "now," whatever mess that is. Part of what I love about my blog is that for the hour I am writing it, I am just about as "in the present" as it is humanly possible to be. Inspiration seems to come down from the heavens and through my brain and into these ten clicking fingers on the keyboard, and I am content. I'm saying yes to that, too.
