What to write about…..what to write about…..I’ve found that even when I think I absolutely know what I’m going to write about, sometimes something else gets written. So is it that I’m simply not disciplined enough to stick to the topic I’ve decided on? Knowing me as I do, this is a definite possibility. This morning I made my list of what I was going to tackle on the home front and found myself, without consciously deciding to, puttering in my garage and loading up my car for a trip to the dump tomorrow. I didn’t have the satisfaction of checking things off my list, but somehow what I ended up doing felt exactly right. So the list must have been wrong. Similarly, there’s something in this blogging process that I respect that is not at my command. For example, last Sunday evening I sat down in front of my computer with every intention of writing about Mother’s Day and and began, but found myself slowing down and finally sputtering to a stop. It just didn’t feel right. Something else wanted to be written, and I wasn’t sure what it was at the time. It was a couple days later that it made itself known. I just had to write about the dear friend I had just lost.

So I was thinking that today I would pick up where I’d left off about Mother’s Day, but it feels like I’ve missed the wave. No matter, because I’m starting to get little glimmers of something else that wants attention. It’s something that I’ve been grappling with lately because of some decisions I’ve made recently—decisions that have been a long time in the making….that have been percolating for years, really, as I’ve weighed and measured and responded to feelings that have shifted back and forth, back and forth, until finally, apparently, a tipping point was reached. It’s actually a relief to reach such a point, because it brings some clarity—it pushes you to one side or another. Reaching a decision—at least a sound decision--about something very important to you forces you to consult with someone with whom you may not be very familiar, someone you may not even trust in terms of judgement. This is someone you may have pushed aside as you discussed your situation with friends and family members and even a therapist. But I’m convinced that this is the very one who knows better than anyone, if you really ask and then truly listen, what the answer to your question is. Of course, you may not like the answer.

As you've probably guessed, I’m talking about yourself. Your self. The vast, for the most part unexplored terrain of you. Without getting into religion or theology or anything too ponderous, I’ll simply say that ever since I can remember I’ve always sensed what is referred to as the “divine” in everything around me. Leaves on trees shimmer with it. Rocks seem to vibrate with it. The sunlight has always seemed to be of its very essence. Certainly animals radiate it—just look into their eyes. And of course, we humans have it, even though we may have buried it under layers of socialization and hipness and what have you. The point is, we know. We KNOW. We have the answers, but to get to them, we do have to ask the questions, and then we have to take the time to listen, and in order to do that, we have to get quiet sometimes—to be still. This being still isn’t really something that is pushed very much in our society, probably because no one’s making any money when we’re doing it. It’s not as if we have to wear special clothes or use fancy equipment or anything. Just find a quiet place and be still and ask your question and listen for the answer. Be still. Be. Simple.