I was looking at the beautiful perfect little flame coming from one of my candles and sort of just gazing away into nothingness, not sure what to think or feel, just a little numb after my pity-cry. I am also sick with my 7th or 8th cold in about 4 months, so it could have been that too...
My mom is the best at letting me really, truly just explode my emotions all over the place and then helping me piece them all back together and look at life objectively with a fresh sense. Bless her heart, she's done it so many times. Often after I go through the cycle of "confusion - anger - defense - self pity - acceptance - wonder - hope - trust - gratitude", I'm not sure how to feel. An hour beforehand, I was angry and confused and now I'm grateful for what I have and what I trust is coming to me. It's a little roller coaster-y. But without my mom helping me navigate that roller coaster, I would have a much harder time figuring life out. (Thanks, momma)
I saw the flame coming from the purple lavender candle on the edge of my tub. And then something happened that hasn't happened in the many zen-baths before, and if it has, I don't recall it having any effect on me. I saw the wiggly, static of the flame's reflection in the water. The ripples just made the dancing flame much more jumpy and sporadic and unpredictable. It was actually somewhat mesmerizing.
If I moved even the slightest bit, the candle's reflection would turn to wiggles and abstractness. If I stay perfectly still, the water calms and I can see a beautiful reflection of the entire scene - the candles, the walls, the steam, everything. All I had to do was stop moving and stop messing up the beautiful view I had.
My most recent Instagram post was about creating white space for ourselves. In that white space, the universe can intervene and give you a helping hand if need be. I think I accidentally made some white space for myself tonight. My little moment of white space made me realize that I need to stop fighting so much, and just let the scenes of my life unfold in front of me. The water and the candle was a major metaphor for my life as it is right now.
The metaphor being: Reality is pure and good and beautiful (the candlelit bathroom, beautiful music, etc.), but with a touch of unpredictability (the flame). If I avert my attention downward, keep moving and wiggling, and fighting, all I see is mess. It's nearly impossible to see what is physically surrounding me. If I stop squirming and let my surroundings (life) come into view, it's a really beautiful scene that brings me a lot of happiness and peace.
That's all for tonight. Not much. Not terribly profound. Hell, I don't even know if this will make sense to anyone who reads it... but it made sense to me, and that's all that mattered in my little off-white, porcelain bath tub tonight.
Namaste.
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