Another state of mind

This is where I was yesterday: in another state of mind. In another state altogether, actually: we were in Oregon, helping our daughter move into the basement where she and her boyfriend will be spending their summer. But by yesterday morning the moving was done and we were scheduled to share breakfast with some old friends and then drive home so I could sing in a concert here.

But the dog, who was staying in the hotel room with us, woke us early to demand a walk, and in the end I didn't get to meditate or blog before we left the hotel. I was surprised at how much it threw off my whole day. I like to think of myself as flexible, but... I was virtually incapable of making conversation with our friends (I was practically falling asleep at the table) and remained irritable and unfocused for the rest of the day. My husband's driving was a bit more erratic than usual, and eventually I insisted on taking over; it was just too unnerving to watch.

As we were tidying the kitchen after dinner I explained to him (again) that I hadn't been angry about the driving, I was just upset and feeling unsafe. And I added that I find it hard to like myself when I start snapping at him that way, but it seemed important to honor my feelings. He was actually very sweet about it, and pointed out that I didn't kick him out of the car or threaten to leave him or call him names, I just calmly insisted on taking over the wheel: it all seemed quite reasonable to him, so I felt a little better about it. Apparently I had managed to channel the turmoil and frustration reasonably effectively, or else it's just that he's so calm himself that my stuff just didn't bother him.

It's all a reminder that things won't always go as planned, and we won't always be as calm as we would like -- or sometimes even be ourselves. For me, for some reason, that's always a little unnerving: something in me thinks the whole world will fall apart if I don't hold up my end. But I'm lucky: I'm in a web of relationships that remains amazingly flexible, so that if I drop into some other state of mind the web acts as a sort of trampoline, forgiving and raising me up, holding on, staying connected...

And as I was thinking of that this morning I realized that we are all of us in the web of relationship with each other, all bouncing and compensating together -- which is how it is that the flap of a butterfly's wings in Argentina can create a tropical storm somewhere else. It's a good thing, this web: it has a way of steadying out the dips and plunges of life. It does mean that dips and plunges elsewhere in the web can reverberate onto us, but I it also means that when we undertake to create a bit of steadiness or serenity in our own corners, that can contribute to the steadiness and serenity of the whole.

So, yes, it's part of my job -- even if it doesn't make any money -- to create this little corner of stability. But if there are days when I struggle and churn; if I fall down on the job from time to time... well, that's okay, too. It's all part of the cycle of things, always an education, and eventually the vibrations will subside and stasis will return. I just need to be as patient with myself as my husband is with me. As Rumi says:

How many victories are won
without spiritual struggle and patience?
To show patience for the sake of the cup of Divine Knowledge
is no hardship: show patience, for patience is the key to joy.

[Rumi, Mathnawi III, 211-212]