I had it all figured out the night before. My entire day was down to a tee– fitting in my to-dos with my want-tos.
Perhaps my crappy night of sleep was the first indication that things would go amiss. I heard DH come into bed, but was too tired & cranky to talk. I slept past my usual 6:30am wakeup –forgoing my treasured 30 minutes that I take each morning to quietly ground myself into the day.
Then there was the note– right in front of the coffee pot.
The sun wasn’t yet up so the kitchen was too dark to clearly see. But I knew exactly what it said.
My morning was shot.
Onward to The Neighborhood School.
Upon entering GLs class, there was a flurry around two baskets:
A happy GL this did not make.
The thing about these library books (and kids being late to soccer practice), it’s almost always the parents fault, yet it’s the kid who suffers–by not being able to get a new library book (or having to run laps around the field).
I tried some Pema Chodron wisdom on GL…breathe in your suffering.
She wasn’t having it.
She was way too pissed. At me.
I then tried some of that Pema Chodron wisdom myself.
Onto the next.
A 9am appointment up on 28th and Broadway.
I hopped on a Citibike and rode uptown…until I hit the detour on Broadway and 24th– the exact location of the Citibike dock station I was heading for.
There was a suspicious package. All roads in the area were closed. The Citibike dock sat mere inches from the no-enter-zone. But the cop wasn’t budging– there was no way I’d be able to dock my bike at that station.
So further uptown I went.
When I finally approached my destination, I saw it was within the no-enter zone. Apparently, a bomb had already been detonated (WTF?!?!), but they needed to make sure all was safe before anyone could enter the building. My 9am didn’t happen.
Time to regroup yet again.
It was then I realized what was really going on. My morning was hit with a swarm of curveballs.
Was it a pain in the ass? Absolutely.
But it was also an opportunity to put my practice to work. All that yoga-mindfulness-be-my-best-self stuff was being given it’s moment to shine.
So it could:
Instill me with the ability to not freak out.
Plug a bit of resourcefulness into my mentality.
Keep me flexible and open to whatever pops up on my path.
Life is just a series of curveballs. Some balls bigger than others. (Fortunately, this day was just small balls.) But this is why we practice– to respond thoughtfully when all balls come our way. In yoga class it’s easy peasy to breathe deep and go with the flow. And this is the point of meditation. But what about off the mat, in my day to day?
Can I be resourceful? Resilient?
But I’ll keep practicing…to be better with all those balls.
Oh, and a little Pema Chodron wisdom can help too.