Monday, July 25, 2016

Report


Captain Picard says, “Report!” So I will.

I used to report to Ed, back when he was around to be reported to, although I suspect now that he hated getting reported to, but since he and Captain Picard are now fictional actors in my little personal TV show, I will report to y’all instead.

I am out in the garden having a reprise of the 2008 Great Zucchini Flood. Except that I didn’t plant my garden this year, my friend Fonda did, and apparently she liked cucumbers. A lot. As well as summer squash.  And arugula, but I was gone for the first three weeks after it was planted and so by the time I got home and checked out the garden, it had sprouted, shot up, bolted, and gone to seed. I am saving the seed pods for some hypothetical future date when I plant more arugula.

And I’m figuring out soaker hoses!  All by myself! Apparently there are two ends of the hose and one end screws into the other end. Who knew. I am proud. I bought a timer, too, but that will have to wait until tomorrow because all my neurotransmitters are used up for the day.

That’s the garden part of my report. On to e-mail and God.

E-mail wisdom. You’ll like this. I’ve learned that you don’t have to push “send” after you’ve written an e-mail. There’s this little “save” button that it is much, much better to push instead. And then you can find the draft a week later and thank GOD that you didn’t send it.

And I know you want to know this, so I will tell you. I’m having a little trouble with my Higher Power. (This is not as easily fixable as the safety bar on the bumper of my car, because they have autobody shops for that, but oh well.) Before you say to yourself, and I know there’s a good chance that you are, “Oh oh, Brenda has got religion, now she will really be obnoxious,” nobody knows what my H.P. is, including me. I think it has something to do with uncovering my Buddha nature, and the one-ness of the universe, and compassion and forgiveness, and believing that the resources will be available to handle whatever comes next. But I’m not sure, because the next starting point in my life is To Be Determined, mostly by other people. And I really wish I had the kind of Higher Power that some of my friends seem to have, where they are just sure they will be taken care of and they won’t have to worry, because my worrier seems to be stuck on Turbo, except when I remember to breathe.

One of my meditation buddies says to remember that I just have this one breath, this only breath, and that during this one breath, I am okay. Works for him. Sometimes works for me.

And then my wise friend Jayna says that my Higher Power kicks ass. I’m glad she’s sure about that.

She also says that I’m not in control of the wind, or the current, or the tides. But I am in control of whether I take the boat out that day.

She says that there are some streets I shouldn’t drive down, and some holes I don’t have to jump into. I could pay attention to that little (metaphorical) sign, Bridge Out, instead.

The sun is shining, I took the detour, I’m breathing, I am now the proud possessor of thirteen cucumbers, and I can take the boat out today.

And that’s my report.

3 comments:

  1. Yes. Love. And my friend Bruce says we're given only a set amount of worry when we're born, and that when we've used it all up, we DIE. So when you start to worry, tell yourself, "OMG! I'm too young to die. I'm switching thought channels!" I'm glad you took the boat out, and that I got to swim along.

    ReplyDelete