For Just A Moment

There just seems to be a lot of fear roaming in and out of the doorways of our homes and hearts lately. Not to say its unwarranted when we find ourselves as a country engaged in wars and an economic downturn. Maybe it’s the price to pay for keeping ourselves contained in our little boxes on our street and in our city. Lately, I find myself circling the neighborhood walking the Queen (our dog) and humbly doing her bidding in front of strangers who are my neighbors—hoping they are alright, hoping they are happy and not overly stressed. This week’s cover of Newsweek says I need stress to keep me alive and Eckhart Tolle suggests in A New Earth that it’s my relationship with the form that’s keeping a girl down. Can I really live and believe in the formless . . . an existence where I am not overwhelmed by bills, deadlines, family, and other responsibilities, but rather find myself in the present moment, unattached to the outcome of my actions? I guess asking that question excludes me from the company of the enlightened. I am lucky if I’m really paying attention a whole 7 minutes of my day . . . the rest . . . tangled in the web of distractions that I have weaved. Those precious 7 minutes in heaven (no I am not hiding in the closet with Heath), I am usually alone in my backyard paying attention to my breathing. Weird, I know. Sometimes it even feels weird. A 7 second count in, “in I am breathing in”, hold my breath 7 counts and squeeze my perineum (you have to be aware in order to do that) followed by a 7 count breath out, “out I am breathing out.” For some reason, maybe you can tell me why, it makes me feel less stressed and like everything is going to be OK and sort of happy for just a moment.