Sunday, October 21, 2007

Perfectly perfect or perfectly human?

You can tell a lot about a person by how they are in the kitchen. Last night, C.C. and I had friends for dinner. I cooked the main dishes, C.C. made the soup.

It takes a brave man to put on a flowered apron and not feel silly -- and if he does, to laugh at himself. I'm not a big apron wearer. The only one I could find was one my mother gave me last Christmas. It reminds me of the 'putzfrau' who used to come and clean our house. Sort of something you'd see on Coronoation Street. A smock-like thing with red roses on a blue background. Very attractive! C.C. laughed at himself and kept on cooking.

One of the 'rules' at Choices is to "Not take yourself so seriously."

A flaw of mine. I take myself and most things seriously. It's time to get out of my rut and into the flow of laughter that abounds when I let go of searching for the importance in the moment and slip instead into living my lightness of being in the moment.

This morning I have to be at a Church to give a talk about the shelter where I work. I checked my Calendar online, expecting to see the details of where I need to be. They're missing. I'm normally pretty consistent about putting in all the details -- for some reason, this time, I didn't. Rather than beat myself up about having messed up, I've decided to let it go. I'll leave a bit early, drop by the office and pick up the info I need from my notebook. I know I wrote it down (which is a good thing) as unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the church where I'm supposed to be at 10:30!

In staying in the moment with lightness and intent, I let go my anxiety of not having all the details, confident that the information I need is at my office and I will still make my appointment on time.

I slip back into the moment. The house is quiet. The sky outside still dark. The world slumbers on as I type in the soft glow from my desk lamp pooling upon my fingers.

All is well with my world.

The question is: Where are you taking yourself too seriously? Where are you missing the joy in the moment because you're holding yourself pinioned to being perfectly perfect rather than perfectly human?

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