Refocusing
“We
begin so aware and so grateful. The sun somehow hangs there in the
sky. The little birds sing. The miracle of life just happens. Then we
stub our toe, and in that moment of pain, the whole world is reduced
to our poor little toe.”
Mark Nepo
(The Book of Awakening)
I traipsed down the to
Jefferson County Courthouse Friday. I had gone through a whole series
of applications for age and income related deductions on my property
taxes; submitted all the necessary paperwork in the time frame required. I had even gone to the website of the Tax Collector and
checked to see if I needed to pay anything—twice it said amount due
was 0. Then Thursday, I received a bill for almost $2,000.00 in
property taxes—overdue and with a penalty! I was steamed to say the
least. So I marched down there ready to do battle, only to have a
very nice woman explain my mistake, and point to the $390.00
deduction I had received. I had to pay the taxes, of course, but
while I was writing the check, my better angel tapped me on the
cerebral cortex and said, “Have you considered how fortunate you
are to have property to pay taxes on?” It changed my mood for the
whole day.
We can get so wrapped up
in the things that are wrong in our lives, that we entirely miss all
that is right. Yes, there is pain, and there is sadness, there are
wounds from childhood and multiple betrayals and losses. But, there
is also the miracle of waking up each day with a new opportunity to
breathe the air, to look into the eyes of the people we love and
feel the joy of simply being alive. When we narrow our focus down to
“our poor little toe,” we waste this present moment of health and
well-being. We eliminate the possibility for joy today.
Many of us have old
wounds from painful childhood experiences well into our geriatric
years—but those wounds are open sores only if we choose them to be.
Every time I feel the dark cloud of having grown up in a
“dysfunctional family,” I think about people in many parts of the
world, who are struggling just to feed their children and keep themselves
alive. I think about the tens-of-thousands who are squatting in
refugee camps. I think about the homeless people right here in
Birmingham. Then I wonder what I possibly have to whine about.
Widening the aperture on our lens will give us a broader perspective.
The miracle of life is
still happening all around us—the sun shines, the rain falls, the birds sing. We can tune in to that, or we can
focus on our stumped toe. The choice is entirely ours.
In the Spirit,
Jane
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