Dishes in the Cupboard

The past few weeks I have been obsessed with spring cleaning. As I scrubbed, I tried to remember all other times I have been overcome by such madness -- once, I was trying to keep myself busy to avoid hearing the evil voice of nicotine withdrawal, and the other three times I was nesting in preparation of my children’s births.

Well, this time around I am not quitting smoking, nor am I awaiting a sweet bundle of joy…so, inquiring minds want to know, why the urge to clean, scrub and remove old and unused items? I pondered this question for a while. The other times I was facing intense life or lifestyle changes, but why would I go through such intense labor without a good motive right now? Then, the reason for this sudden need of renewal finally dawned on me, and awareness of something much more profound timidly surfaced.

This time, as spring is ready to explode in its myriad of colors, warmer temperatures and sweet-scented flowers, I am awaiting the birth of a different type of child, twins, in fact: This spring and summer, my first two books are going to be released, and while it might not seem like a big deal to many, for me it is the crowning of a lifelong dream. On first impression, it appears that I am nesting once again; however, when I gave this matter a little thought, I wondered if something deeper is at play.

Some time ago, I purchased a new set of dishes to substitute my old ones, but didn’t immediately use them because I hesitated to take the old dishes out of the cupboard. True, the old dishes were not all matching, and some had quite a few imperfections etched on them by the hands of time and usage, but it was on those dishes that I served my daughter the first bite of greens she made faces at, and in those bowls that I piled cookies for my sons to have with milk. I felt as if I was throwing out the memories along with the faded plates, yet I couldn’t fit both sets in the space I have.

I finally placed the old dishes in a bag and arranged the new ones in the cupboard. Once I placed the discarded set in the car to be donated, I looked forward to dinner time when I could set the table with something new. Getting rid of the old dishes was a bit of a struggle, but now that it was done I felt good about it. Truth was that something had to be removed to make place for something new, and until I was willing to let go of things that were no longer satisfactory, I couldn’t fully enjoy what was newly available to me.

Although our conscious minds assume that everything we do in our physical world is only dictated by what we perceive through our five senses, I believe otherwise. In my opinion, many of our daily actions are induced by an inner need which uses the physical realm to express itself. The past couple of years have been bittersweet ones – I have conquered some important milestones, but I have also dealt with a lot of frustration in the process of getting to publication, and I think I have felt the need to cleanse my energy to make room for this eagerly awaited chapter in my life.

On a subconscious level, I think the same thing happens when one is awaiting the birth of a human child – aside from wanting to create a comfortable space for her soon-to-be-born baby, a mother-to-be might also be going through a spell of energy cleansing to prepare for the flow of love she will bestow on her child. Only so much energy can fit into one person, and it only makes sense that we naturally attempt to clear out the old to make room for the new. After all, many spiritual masters teach that energy flows better in a clean space.

After a few days of scrubbing and organizing, renewal has begun, and I am ready to open up to the new blessings waiting at the door.

Waiting for Hanna

As hours pass, and Hurricane Hanna gets closer, anxiety is growing.
As a “Fran survivor”, believe me, I have learned to be ready. I have made my list, checked it twice, and have made sure that no detail is left out. Emergency supplies are ready, the medical kit is stocked, and financial records are bundled together, insurance documents well visible on top. The laundry is done and bills were sent out, in case we lose power and the mailman refuses to be gone with the wind, although the postal service proudly asserts that they will deliver mail in ANY weather.
Now, it is time to relax and simply wait.
Waiting for this sort of thing is the hardest task, and it reminds me of the days before my children were born. No matter how much time and effort I had put into preparing everything for the upcoming event, there was always the nagging feeling that more could, and should, be done. It was almost as if the kids could refuse to come out, or something horrible would happen, if I overlooked the smallest detail.
Although the doctor had assured me that everything was fine, I think I held my breath until I counted fingers and toes and heard them cry. Waiting for Hanna electrifies and scares us the same way. Although she is no child, and everyone would probably prefer to not hear her cry or breathe at all, she is not a huge storm. As I write, she is only a tropical storm, and even if she is expected to intensify, odds are that she won’t be much stronger than a strong cat 1, or weak cat 2, hurricane. Nothing to joke with, but definitely not a killer storm.
This is one of those situations when the fear of the monster is almost bigger than the monster itself. When we think about hurricanes, the images we conjure are those of much larger weather systems hitting on much more vulnerable areas. Raleigh is not New Orleans; we are not below sea level, and the amount of vegetation, which can slow the winds down, is staggering.
That said, I am not suggesting that we should not be prepared. On the contrary, I think everybody needs to be self-responsible and ready for whatever comes; yet, once the preparations are in place, there is no need to keep glued on the Weather Channel and worry about everything. Ultimately, nobody knows what will happen with certainty. Weather forecasting is simply that…forecasting. It is a good guess based on interpretations of computer models, and it can change on a whim.
Panic is easier to spread than Evening Primrose, and in some ways it unites people. When something gets ready to happen, people come together to talk, exchange tips, and often exaggerate what they have heard. If anyone remembers, after a handful of birds had died of the dreaded avian virus, reports of impending doom popped up like mushrooms. According to one documentary, at least one third of the world population was expected to be infected, with no effective treatment available. As it turned out, few people died of the Avian Flu, and most of those who did were bird handlers.
So, let’s not give in to panic. No matter what, we can’t do much more than getting ready. Freaking out over things that may or may not happen will not make us more resilient.