Flash back to this morning. I am sitting on the carpet with my 2 boys, playing “choo choo train” with my 2 year old (Clavey) as my 3 month old (Canyon) sits in my lap. Bob Marley comes on the radio. Clavey LOVES Bob Marley. He runs up to Canyon, filled with excitement, and tries to lift him out of my lap by his head. He wants to dance with Canyon. I quickly move Clavey away from Canyon, and in the process pull my neck and back out. It feels as though I have never stained a muscle so much. Excruciating. It continues to hurt throughout the day, but gets better. It is mostly a constant ache, with an occasional stabbing sensation. However, there are moments when the pain completely subsides. When this happens, I feel absolutely blissful. I feel as though I want to run up to my husband and kids, hug and kiss them, and tell them how much I love them. In these pain-free moments, I feel this intense love and contentment with life. These are short moments, but they are a welcome relief.
I imagine that in these gaps of pain, I am getting very close to the “place of pure being”. Maybe I am even touching it. The thing that is so hard is to not hang on to those moments. If I do this, I suffer double-time. When in pain, I am also yearning for that blissful state, which causes me to be even more miserable.
The thing that blows my mind is that the pain-free moments are the norm in my everyday life. My body usually feels pretty good. However, the blissful feeling only arises when preceded by a painful moment. The bliss is always there. The pain is a catalyst that helps bring it to the surface. I am working on being thankful for the painful moments. It is easy to be thankful for them during a blissful moment, but in the midst of the pain, not so easy.
I am doing the same thing with some family drama I have been having go on around me. Trying to be thankful for the opportunities for growth that this drama presents. In the midst of the drama, I have a hard time not getting all worked up. Only when the encounter is over do I see the lessons presented. Thanks to Blake’s post, treating it as dRAMa rather than Drama has helped.
All this family drama has helped me turn inward. I see myself as the eye of the storm. So much family debris flying all around me, but from my seat, complete stillness. I tried to extricate myself physically from it all, but quickly saw that by doing that, I am only adding to the drama. By being right in the thick of it, extricating my consciousness from it, and turning it inward, I feel myself going Om.
A side note I thought I would add. The other day, I was having a particularly rough day. Both boys were fussing a lot, and my energy was way off. I hit a point where I thought I may snap. At that moment, I began chanting “Om Namah Shivaya” for maybe a minute. Clavey had never heard that chant before. Later that night, I was nursing Clavey to sleep. All of a sudden, he stopped nursing, cuddled his little head into the crook of my neck, started chanting “Om Namah Shivaya”, and then just fell asleep. It warmed me up all the way to my soul.