Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Umpteenth Time

"It never delivers, does it?"

I said that after she blurted out in passing that she was just itching to go spend some money. When I told her I knew that feeling she said it was comforting to hear she wasn't alone. There was a time when I would have felt compelled to launch into a mini sermon on why those kind of urges don't deliver in the end, don't fill that aching place inside. But, I didn't.

Dogs don't like sermons, either. At least not the screeching kind. The Yoga Pup was threatening to do his business in my freshly rototilled garden. The little shit. He and The Engergizer Bunny are oblivious to us when they go outside. They wander with an intensity to their explorations that makes them deaf to humans, I swear it. Then when they sniff the whole world they abruptly turn and come running for the house. Tonight dearest one put a fence around the garden. Yoga Pup chatters like a squirrel when he is upset or excited. I imagine he will chatter at me through that fence a lot this summer.

I spent several hours on the road today going to and from the place where my spiritual director lives. Our normal meeting place was in a kerfuffle due to renovations so we chatted for two hours in a chilly,don't-turn-up-the-heat-between-Sundays church near by. Before us was a beautiful alcove with stained glass. I found that both calming and comforting. I wandered to the back of the church and stood before the table full of prayer candles. I wondered about the people who had lit the candles and what burdens they need lifted.

I try not to dissect my sessions with the spiritual director too much anymore. Some sessions are bland and some are intense and some are in between. I used to want them all to be intense as if intensity was the only way to measure if I was getting further along in the healing process. Now I accept that every session helps me in the journey. Today I felt like I was rehashing the same stuff for the umpteenth time. And maybe I was.

On the way to my appointment I was eating and driving. It's hard to dip chicken strips in sauce and drive at the same time. In my little it's all about me moment I was sure the vehicle that had been quite a ways behind me was catching up to me for the sole purpose to get my licence plate so they could report me for dangerous driving. I'm embarrassed to admit how many miles I drove before I realized how ridiculous the thoughts in my head were. Then I looked in my rear view mirror and the vehicle had disappeared. So much for it being all about me.


4 comments:

Marla said...

I can so relate to those "it's all about me" moments.

Black Pete said...

Actually, you might have had a tailgater who thinks that being more than 3 feet behind you is a mile too much...

Joe said...

"I used to want them all to be intense as if intensity was the only way to measure if I was getting further along in the healing process."

I relate to this. I feel this way about meetings sometimes. I still get upset if a meeting isn't the best, or if there are a lot of distractions, but I also know that I will be getting to another one...

Jim said...

It always warms my heart, ma'am, to drop by and read such as you express here. Your words have a "maturity" to them, evidence of distance travelled, and a witness of He who dwells within. We learn as we go that, in losing ourselves, we find ourselves, and always it is He who works in us and through us. The Gospel doesn't just come to us from behind the pulpit. It meets us in the journey and flows out from us unto others as He opens the door.....