First of all, what are tricksters? Their purpose is to remind us to be real. When we put up barriers to hide (often from ourselves), they delight in tearing down those walls. Only when we are real do they lose their power.
This past week, I became nursemaid to Sophie. A trip to the vet established a problem in her left eye that needed antibiotics, and an overall problem of dry eyes that will need treatment for the rest of her life. And my husband got sick for the second time this year. Another cough and cold.
A couple weeks back, I blogged about our trickster garage door. It doesn’t always close when directed. The same thing has happened when I enter the house. (Just FYI, my theory is that sometimes a leaf blows in, breaking the light beam between sensors, redirecting the door up again.)
I wrote about my epiphany that when leaving home I needed to be where I was, i.e. in the driveway watching the door come down, rather than letting my mind move ahead to my destination.
Tale Number One
Having an epiphany doesn’t always make it so
A week ago I headed out for an appointment, intending to mail a couple letters on the way. As I pulled out of the garage, instead of being in the driveway, my mind flew to choosing between the nearest post office or the one halfway to my destination. I chose the halfway-there P.O.
Leaving that post office lot, I realized I hadn’t consciously watched the garage door close. Aargh! And I didn’t have time to go back. Arriving home, I found the door had closed, but the reminder was a wake-up call for —
Tale Number Two
One of the highlights of my week is our Saturday morning breakfast with friends before grocery shopping. This past Saturday though, I worried that my husband with his cold wasn’t well enough to go. He thought he was up to it., so we got into the car.
But then I had to get out again to attend to something. And when I got back into the car, I couldn’t find my keys. Were they in my hand or pocket when I first got into the car? I couldn’t remember.
Back into the house I went. Then back out to the car, looking, looking, looking. Time was slipping away. It was a sign we weren’t meant to go. I texted our friends that my husband was sick.
Then he pointed out that the garage door was still open.
Be where you are. Okay, but where was I?
Where I was, was chock full of bottled up feelings. I didn’t want to yell at a sick husband. But there I was, the nurse in charge of a gummy-eyed dog and a sick man. And I couldn’t go to breakfast. The best part of my week!
I had a right to be disappointed. I proceeded to indulge in a tantrum. (At least that’s what I called it.) I acknowledged my feelings with some rare tears.
After that indulgence, I calmly located the fallen keys, prepared breakfast at home (though not our traditional Breakfast Burrito with green chile, split between us) and went off to do the shopping on my own.
Telling my sister about it later, we both laughed. She commented that as seniors, we rarely allow ourselves such luxuries. I’m lucky to have a trickster garage door reminding me to be mindful.
Be where you are. Feel what you feel.
What kind of tricksters do you find in your life?
Kate Harrington 