Hearing the powerful poem (Lenox Hill) of the elephants falling off the cliff in Kashmir returned me to the mood I awakened with this morning. Well, not the horror, but the deep sadness I felt. The reason? Two weeks ago, I had decided on my next protest action, planning to travel to Minnesota to stand with indigenous people to prevent continued work on line 3. The pipeline was to be on sacred native land, ready to contaminate the Mississippi and another dozen rivers. I had clarity, thinking I needed to do my part to stand in its way.
Then, yesterday, I realized that I just couldn’t do it, that taking care of my physical self had to take precedence over my desire to stop the pipeline. I was acutely conscious of disappointing others who were counting on my company both for travel and in being there. They, being true friends, understood my decision, but I awoke filled with giant disappointment in myself.
When I was dressing, I pulled on a pair of last year’s pants, but they were too tight, and I couldn’t blame it on the laundry. Another disappointment, on top of what I was already feeling. I added the pants to the good will pile and grabbed another bigger pair. Just then my husband walked into our room and caressed me, saying, “You are so beautiful.” It was partly the words, but more his sincerity that moved me so much. Isn’t there a song with the words, ‘the eyes of love’? He definitely sees me with the eyes of love.
I didn’t feel like it, but I went to Wegman’s anyway. This weekly trip is usually a treat for me, a half hour drive with favorite tunes playing, then plugging in to their free electric charging station while I shop. I arrived there about 7:30, during old-people-shopping time, so the store was not crowded.
Halfway there, my mood started to lift. Then, at the store, a couple of things raised my spirits even more. Outside the store, where the plants are always appealing, I saw hanging baskets of red begonias that needed to be by my front door. Inside were fresh peaches, the first I’ve seen this season! Of course, they’re not local, but looked so good, so I added a few to my cart.
When I was at checkout, the woman helping me seemed to be extra careful packing, rearranging so the grapes and peaches were on top of the heavier things. When I thanked her for the extra attention that she was giving my groceries, her smile in response reminded me that the best way to make yourself feel better is to do something nice for someone else.
My ride home was delightful, filled with tunes from the seventies. I had plenty of time to put away the groceries and to hang the begonias — actually, to ask my husband to hang them — before my zoom tap class started. My energy level fluctuates from day to day, and today it was good. I could remember most of the steps and enjoyed the music, this time ending with Frank Sinatra’s Summer Wind for the cool-down.
When I think to what lies ahead for today, I am immediately calmed as I anticipate Zen meditation at 6:30, on Zoom, of course. This is usually followed by the Monday night local social justice group, but tonight I’m going to play hooky, so I can celebrate Bob Dylan’s 80th birthday with the Nields during their Monday night concert. Today will end well. All’s well that ends well, even on a moody Monday.
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