Last night was bad. My brain woke up with a jolt sometime after midnight and wouldn’t be persuaded to go back to sleep or even shut up for hours. Maybe it was so much yoga, caffeine, or heat lately, or just the confluence of the stars, karma, and weather, but it sucked. As my friend Judy once told me, those hours of insomnia are the witching hours when the little concerns morph into deathstar-sized worries. It didn’t help that I was also entertaining some chigger bites in sensitive places (dear readers who don’t know about chiggers, bless you and keep you safe!).
When I woke this morning, strangely enough after only about six hours of sleep, I felt awake and relieved. I also wanted to counteract the grand dame dramas of the night before and start my day well, so it occurred to me to drink my coffee outside on the deck and, like my friend Jerry (who begins each day by praying that “thy will be done”), offer myself to the day. Although I was hesitant because even in the morning, it was near 90 degrees, as soon as I immersed myself into that air, all was fine.
I ended up sitting in an old Adirondacks chair, sipping coffee, amazed at the height of the cottonwood tree in our yard, the rush of the wind, and the blueness of the sky. I sang a little, prayed a little, and enjoyed the peace. Then I realized what I really wanted to do was to read a little more of the book I’ve started — Jill Bolte Taylor’s Stroke of Insight — because I’m so moved by what she’s saying about the convergence of spirit and science. She writes of how the two halves of the brain have completely different personalities: the left side our constructed personality, abilities to think, remember, control and manuver; the right side our ability to connect, be in the moment, rejoice and feel (I am simplifying here for the sake of brevity). She also says, “My stroke of insight would be: Peace is only a thought away, and all we have to do to access it is silence the voice of dominating left mind.”
Sitting in the beauty of one moment — releasing myself from the tasks ahead, worries behind, weather to weather and responsibilities to shoulder — for this one moment shows me how right Taylor is, and also how easy it is for us to cross over to small wonders at any moment.