NEW YEAR'S REVOLUTION

NEW YEAR’S REVOLUTION

New Year’s Day 2018

By Shana Smith

Today—January 1, 2018—the Earth has traveled 600 million miles in 365 days, just to get exactly to the same point it started from. Year after year, it just keeps coming back home, which is at any given point on this infinitely orbiting sphere. This dance between Earth and Sun gives us life and breath.

Revolution. Today, New Year’s Day, the Earth has revolved one more time fully around the Sun. Tomorrow, it will greet last year’s same point in full circle, and then begin again. Like the Zen Enso, it’s path is totally complete and just beginning at the same time. Its journey is finished only to start all over again. In reality, this revolution is independent of time: it could be the birth of a moment, a stage of life, a generation, a millisecond, a month, a century.

Inhale. There is nothing but absolute fullness and absolute potential in every breath. Exhale. There it is: perfect expression of your verified presence and experience in this grand existence. The circle of breath, in and out, the circle of life and death, the expansion and contraction of every vibrating particle in this universe—so it is that we revolve and orbit our own light, our own essence, closer and closer and closer…turning ever inward to see the Sun…until we realize that there is nothing to orbit, no one to do the orbiting. Only revolution. Only This.

May your New Year be always and ever new, may you revolve into each and every moment’s great gift with gratitude, may you know the great eastern Sun as your very Self, and see it clearly in all beings. May the resolution of suffering and the manifestation of peace, harmony and justice we wish to see in the outer world begin with the gentle revolving inward into Self Love.

Shinnen omidetoo gozaimasu, Feliz Ano Nuevo. Hauoli no Makahiki Hau. Bonne annee. Mwaka mpya wenye furaha. Nov varsh ki shubhakamanaen. Am gedid said. Xīn nián kuài lè. Happy New Year!

Do You Hear What I Hear?

DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR?

By Shana Smith

December 24, 2017

     Yesterday, as we were driving around town doing errands, we decided to play the “Christmas Songs All Day” radio station.  With familiarity and excitement, my kids and I sang along to “Rudolph,” “Frosty,” and “Here Comes Santa Claus,” with the occasional backseat burst of “I’m so excited for Christmas!” peppered in between.  Christmastime has always been exciting, and it’s one of the rare regular events that stir up childlike happiness in me pretty much on schedule.  Somehow through the years, even after I learned about the reality of the Santa Claus story, even after I realized that uncountable number of people for whom Christmas is a lonely, hungry time of year, even after I witnessed the audacity of rampant consumerism shadowing the deeper possibilities of Christmas, even after I discovered that Christmas has a “reason for the season” that we didn’t participate in, even as I honored my Jewish roots with Chanukah and Passover, and even after I formally became a yogi and Zen Buddhist…. I could not ever find any reason not to go whole-hog for Christmas.  Having kids only magnified this phenomenon, this “Christmas just because it’s Christmas and we love it” continues, and because most of the country celebrates right along with us with familiar songs and amazing lights and all of the iconic traditions we know so well, we have a blast.

      There are enough secular trademarks about Christmas that have made it easy to celebrate without being religious.  And even religious things have been easily explained to my kids: “Christmas for many people is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, so it is based in Christianity. America has many Christians, so it’s a really big holiday here. For us though, Christmas is simply about the one thing everyone shares: Love.  It’s a time to celebrate the connection between all people, to be grateful for all we have, to be with family and friends, and to help others in need.”  It’s been my simple, go-to explanation and a  great way for me to do what I’ve always done in matters of faith, religion, and people’s diverse beliefs: bring it all back to the universal connector of Love and helping others.   And my kids have always gone along with that—we distribute food and gather donations, we make gifts for friends and family, we buy stuff, we cook a lot of  food, we play the familiar music, we watch the classic movies. We also make a few modifications: We say “Happy Holidays” to remember to include all faiths and beliefs and to remind us that we have our own Reason for the Season.  We only eat vegetarian foods.  And while we recognize that others observe Christmas for religious reasons, we have never talked much about Jesus Christ. In fact, I was never able to even say “Jesus Christ” or any other deity’s name from any other faith without worrying that I was going down a rocky road.  From my religion-less upbringing and vantage point, it always seemed that only sin, guilt, judgement, prejudice and war arose from religiosity.  I declared at an early age that my devotion was to Mother Nature, Love and Service, and to this holy trilogy only.

     But Christmas is also known for its miracles, and just as I was settling in to our normal raucous Christmas song-singing reverie driving around town, it came in the form of a song and a question somewhere between the mall and  the library.  “Do You Hear What I Hear?” came on, and I sang.  I Sang so deeply, and so filled with Love, that my eyes welled up and my kids became quiet.  When it was over, only silence seemed appropriate, so we turned off the radio and drove in silence for a minute or two. And then, my eight year old son asked the question that rocked my world: “Mom, if we’re not Christians, and we don’t celebrate the birth of Jesus, why do you love that song so much?  And why is it so beautiful?”

                Not Christians.  I don’t know that we’ve ever explicitly voiced that we’re not Christians.  I do know we’ve said that we are Buddhists and yogis and half-Jews.  But suddenly these convenient and self-identifying labels all seemed so very shallow.  Of course we are Christians. And Jews. And Buddhists. And Muslims.  And Hindus. And Pagans. And…enter any faith here.  And of course we are none of these mere names, which suddenly sounds so “us” and “them,” so divisive.  How can I claim just one, or even two?  What about all of the other spiritual traditions we don’t even know about in all of the reaches of this beautiful and diverse world? Of course, I’ve always resolutely claimed this fact with my declaration of Love as our religion, but suddenly I felt it at my core, in the meat of my very cells. 

                “Do You Hear What I Hear?”  Yes. We hear the cries of the world, together. We answer that cry each moment of each day.  A song, a song High above the trees, with a voice as big as the sea.  We extend our arms to relieve suffering, to shower every moment with our attention and kindness. Jesus, Buddha, Allah, you, me—our hearts together.

                “Do You See What I See?”  Yes.  I see the light in you, and honor it.  I see the past, present and future in every shining miracle of experiencing every moment.  We REALLY see each other, no matter our form or rank.  The wind sees the little lamb, who sees the shepherd boy, who sees the mighty king.  We are one. You are my brother; you are my sister. You are a star, a star, dancing in the night, with a tail as big as a kite. 

            “Do You Know What I Know?” Yes.  At our very core we all know we are the same boundless, formless, miracle. A child, a child shivers in the cold; let us bring him silver and gold.  Each moment is a birth, vulnerable and yet full of potential for endless riches.  When we awake to this, we want to shower this world with the richness of our awareness, our Love, our metaphorical silver and gold, so that all beings may always know that they are full and perfect in every moment. By being simply being alive, and to be able to be fully present in our experiences--no matter what they are--we have been given the greatest of all gifts.  We have tapped into the source of endless riches.

            Said the king to the people everywhere: Listen to what I say! Pray for peace people everywhere: Listen to what I say!  The child, the child Sleeping in the night; he will bring us goodness and light.

            Both Zen and Yoga put great value on intentions.  By setting the earnest intention for peace and wholeness for this whole World, and by cultivating our awareness, compassion, and intention in every moment through whatever practice we choose such as meditation or prayer, there will be goodness and light from a perspective that is much bigger than subjective definitions of “good” and “bad,” much deeper than preferences and wants and desires. Or, as the great Zen Patriarch Master Unmon declared: “Every day is a good day.”

            When my curious son asked more questions about Jesus Christ, I could only respond: “He is worth celebrating.  We celebrate Buddha’s birthday too, and we celebrate yours, and all for the same reason.”

I am no theologian.  It would take months of research and writing to be able to write an essay with quantitative examples of what this song and my son’s question sparked deep within, bringing me closer to that universal source that I always called “Mother Nature, Love, and Service.” After all, Interfaith groups and the great masters have been recognizing our deepest connections all along, and I could write a grand essay with many words referencing all of them.

But what are words and essays and labels, anyway, but pointers to an awareness so vast that words don’t even belong?  Why are there thousand-page texts in every tradition for that which cannot be explained by words?  And haven’t words and labels trapped us into divisive thinking, so that we don’t know what to say during the holidays for fear of offending others or betraying our word-addled chosen belief systems? 

Gently, I can let go of all of this noise of the mind trying to figure it all out.  Gradually, I can feel okay saying “Merry Christmas” if the occasion calls for it. Authentically, I can hear a song about the birth of Jesus for the first time and be moved to tears without judgement. And at last, I have finally figured out why Christmas is so important to me. 

 Could it be that, after all these thousands of years, that we have all been saying and feeling the same thing, but the words and labels muddled our human egos and just got in the way? There is no point to be made, nothing to figure out, but the very miraculous fact of this very life itself. To this ever-potentiating sacred gift of life, to both its myriad forms and expressions and its one infinitely beating and boundless heart: I bow in deepest gratitude.

            And to you and yours: Merry Christmas!

Softening Out of Perfection

I've always been a balls-to-the-walls kinda gal. I do things big, and I do things right. Since childhood, I've been this way, because for reasons unknown I have always been driven by the quest for perfection, or at least my limited and very superficial concept of it.

Perfection is not an easy goal. Perfection takes work.  Hard work. Balls-to-the-walls work.  Don't just sing; belt!  Don't just cry; sob. Don't just work. Work harder than anyone else ever could or would, and never make a mistake.  Figure out what makes people happy and do it tenfold. Stand out. Be exemplary. That's what perfection is all about, right?

Only if you want to be neurotic and drive everyone around you insane. Only if you want to be left wondering why, despite years of working so hard, you are unhappy.

Because of decades of perfectionitis, despite a lack of true happiness, I did garner a few commendable attributes.  I have incredible endurance.  You could give me a project--any project, be it filling up a landfill with a single shovel or organizing a festival or cataloguing 1,000 species of gastropods--and I'll do it unwaveringly, without food or drink or sleep, until it is done, and done perfectly.  I am pretty skinny for a middle-aged woman. That's because I have always been buzzing and working, even during "rest" periods, which keeps my metabolism on overdrive.  I am dependable and self-deprecating and nice (until I blow up from lack of feeling imperfect). I am wholesome and moral.  Yes, perfection has a few superficially honorable side effects.

I have also been hard-edged, easily hurt, overbearing in my energy with others, strongly opinionated, insecure, nail-biting, and limited in my ability to see a bigger, kinder, picture of both myself and the world around me. Perfection had created barriers to the very thing it was striving for.

Thanks to a longtime dedicated meditation practice,  the tight-lipped walls of perfection are beginning to soften, especially in these past  several years, and the process is continuing with tangible results.  In addition to daily time on the cushion, it's a moment-to-moment practice to enjoy less work for myself instead of creating more, to soften and loosen into each moment, experience, thought and interaction rather than tense up and do battle with them.  To lay back instead of diving in to everything. To shed the need and tendency to engage--and over-engage.. To stop the need to let everyone know what I can do, have done, or will do. To physically soften--my face, my shoulders, my stomach--and feel a new sense of flow through pliant joints and muscles that never existed before.  To really see and hear and enjoy people rather than being intent on being perfect around them.  To allow my kids to be themselves rather than be "my kids." To discover--wide eyed and awestruck--that the whole world opens up and dances with me when I finally relax these gripping muscles and let go of it.  To be utterly, openly, flabbily, softly, loosely, quietly, unapologetically, imperfect. To breathe. To be happy and even better than happy: to be content.

Now THAT'S perfection.

TIPS 57-60: PERSPECTIVE, THE QUIET GAME, UNGLAMOROUS SPIRITUALITY, AND WRINKLES

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, TIP #57: Meditation and many other spiritual practices place much emphasis on the present moment. But in parenting, it sometimes serves up to visit the past and future in order to gain perspective on, and fully embrace, the present. Take my 4-year old today. We homeschool, so are pretty much in each others' company 24/7. Most of the time, we get into a groove and its just wonderful. But today, he was overtired and acting very toddler-ish, and I was about at my wit's end. I gave both of us time outs, during which time I quickly remembered that these "toddler moments" were a regular thing not so long ago, that I didn't even have the luxury of getting tasks done quickly, having time to myself or even taking a bath like I enjoy regularly now, and that by next year he will be so much more grown that what seems like an infernal eternity right now will soon be a memory, never again to be experienced between us. By the time our time outs were over, the present moment never seemed sweeter.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #58: Modern day parents are given the advice that to boost your child's brain power, phonetic awareness, communication skills, early comprehension abilities, and more, that you should start talking to your child constantly pretty much from birth. Trying to be the best mom ever, I took this advice to heart and began a narrative of every moment with both of my babies, beginning prenatally. Sure enough, and just as the experts portrayed, both of my kids have excellent comprehension and communication skills. In fact, none of us ever shut up. We have become a house of yakkity-yaks, saying things like "bum pity bump" when we drive over a bump, expressing every experience, thought, emotion in painful detail. In 20/20 hindsight, I realize that if I had to do it over again, I would devote equal amounts of time to the miracle and magic of silence. We now allow ourselves, and with some effort, to be just quiet. We actively resist the temptation to say--anything. We started by calling it the Quiet Game, but now, with just a few glimpses of the peace and Universe connection, without the distraction of narrative, my kids and I are starting to go there on our own, without giving it a label like Quiet Game or Meditation Time. The experts love to talk about the importance of communication, but through silence we have discovered a communication with Truth that is much, much deeper and more profound, that supercedes developmental benchmarks, time, space, and labels.  

MEDITATION TIPS FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #59: It is relatively easy to be "spiritual" around friends and acquaintances. It is relatively easy to apply the practices of noticing your emotions and thoughts, for example, as you relate to them, remain in a centered space, and then go somewhere else to meditate or let go further as needed, etc. It is entirely another thing to be "spiritual" when your kids are sick with the flu, your husband is in a bad mood, and you haven't slept for four days. Even if you "act spiritual," they'll knock that act down in about two seconds. But if you allow yourself to be soaked in every last unglamorous bit of it--boogers, nerves, and all--then the Divine Mother will hold you securely. 

 MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #60: My father's face was deeply etched with lines and they were, for the most part, the happiest lines you've ever seen: upturned smiling crow's feet, expressively aware forehead lines, carefree dimples. There was one clear furrow between his eyes, though, revealing that serious part--the concentration and focus of a scientist, the deep thinking, and the internal demons. For the first time, I am seeing the same pattern of lines beginning to imprint permanently on my own face that so resembles his. And just like his, I adore the happy lines but would gladly botox the invasive brow furrow away, for it is the one stinker that indicates that I have had more than a few moments in a less-than-la-la state of being. During meditation, one often experiences great releases in the face: the jaw, the forehead, the eyebrows, the temples. I have watched more than a few parents, in deep relationship with their children, with faces squinched up in concentration, frustration, debilitation, and have started to become mindful of my own. The amount of tension stored in my face is mind-boggling. It even tenses up when I am wrapped up in a yoga pose meant to release something else like the hips or upper back. To be mindful of the face is cathartic. Not because it might stave off those pesky wrinkles--"face" it; they're here to stay!--but to achieve a deeper sense of awareness and relation with yourself in the present moment. It has become an integral part of my meditation, not only on the mat but now, especially, during the day-to-day mundanities, joys, and frustrations of parenting.

TIPS 52-56: GRACE OF NATURE, SAYING NO, STAR WARS, TANTRUMS, AND GETTING SICK

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #52: Outside in the forest, and deep in the ocean, is a daily battle of life and death, competition for food and light, exposure to sun, wind, storms, currents, hurricanes, and more. And yet, we seek the forest and the sea for their deep tranquility. We leave our burdened lives to find refuge in these places, and yet on most days, for most of us lucky folks, our burdens do not include struggles for life, death, food, light, or natural disasters. Our struggles are simply for balance and clarity, financial freedom, a fulfilling job, a great family or love life, happiness, etc. So why, in the light of our relative struggles, are the deep wild places our source of refuge and seeking? Because the trees, no matter their circumstances, surrender and give their whole existence to the Universe. The fan corals, waving in the currents, are completely at ease with the flow. We go to them because they are enlightenment, embodied, with no mind to get in the way.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #53: Say no.  Don't do a lot of extra stuff, or fall  into doership without clarity of purpose and space.  The more I take off my life's plate, the more I appreciate the actual design on the plate itself, which I haven't seen for a good while...

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, TIP #54: Want your kids to begin to understand the concepts of prana, aka chi, and the importance of focus, concentration, and intention? Watch "The Empire Strikes Back" with particular emphasis on Luke Skywalker's training with Yoda. Let your child become obsessed with lightsabers and Stormtroopers or whatever it takes to "hook" them--and discuss Yoda's teachings frequently. I remember, at the age of 11, only wanting to be one with the Force. Not much has changed. Yoda is my first Buddha.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, TIP #55: At a recent talk at the Temple of 
 The Universe, spiritual teacher and The Untethered Soul author Mickey Singer likened the tantrums of a young child not getting what he/she wants to the tantrums of the ego when not being fed what it wishes. His techniques, and the technique of meditation, instruct seekers to simply relax and let the ego's tantrum pass and not get engaged with it, just as you would with your child. But we parents get a double whammy when our child has a tantrum in a public place, because often the judgemental or concerned stares of others raises the hackles of your own ego, viz: "This isn't happening to me! They must think I am a horrible parent!" Etc. This is exactly why parenting is an intensive and awesome spiritual practice. It is one of the few life experiences that requires "multitasking" even in your meditation approach, but if you are willing, you can accomplish great feats of awakening by simply viewing these moments, in all of their discomfort, as huge opportunities for letting go, opening and awareness.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #56: When you get sick, even the most experienced meditators can feel challenged in their ability to be present and peaceful with what "is." Meditation teaches us to "unstick" ourselves from the whirlwind of life, to be present to all that is happening without becoming lost in it. But when parents become sick, it easy to feel as if our whole world is unraveling, since so many others are directly dependent on our well-being. How to maintain a meditation practice and find center? Practice the ancient arts of patience and letting go of your need to be a constant caregiver. Patience in that despite the fact that you feel like ka-ka doing the things that MUST be done, like changing the diapers and feeding your kids, you will eventually feel better. Letting go in that maybe, just maybe, your kids will be okay for a day or five if they have a little more TV or frozen dinners than you would allow in your normal state. And, your kids might just surprise you and benefit from being loosened up a bit from your control. When I was sick recently, my 9-year old learned how to cook and load the dishwasher quite on her own.  With my safety paranoia, had it not been for illness, the poor girl might have had to wait until she was twelve before I allowed her that kind of important personal growth.

TIPS 49-51: Spontaneous Sits, Mindful Chewing, and Impatience

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip # 49: Somewhere between a formal, scheduled, and timed sit in a dedicated space and the moment-to-moment mindfulness practice of daily life, there is sometimes the opportunity for what I like to call a "Spontaneous Supervisory Sit." This opportunity takes place during one of those magical moments when your child or children are playing in a safe setting over an extended period of time, and your only job is to be with them and supervise. You can sit on a bench or cross-legged on a makeshift towel and mind your children and your mind with total presence. Just remember to keep your eyes open.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #50: As I stood in front of the kitchen sink wolfing down handfuls of spinach tortellinis because between feeding the family and the animals and cleaning up and helping the kids with homework and picking up not-yet-housetrained puppy poop there was never any time to actually sit down and have a meal for myself, I realized that I was not eating mindfully. So I attempted to slow down each chew and carefully experience the sensation of the experience while leaning over the dish-filled sink. By the third chomp, with the dryer buzzing and the TV suddenly turned up the theme song to Scooby Doo at max volume in the background, olive oil dribbling down my chin in a desperate attempt to nourish and work hard at being mindful, son shouting "Mooooom!" -- I became distinctly aware that the whole scene was distinctly hilarious. Belly-bustingly, life-livingly funny, and the laughter that ensued was a cathartic testament that THIS, ultimately, sums this practice up in one, messy, loud, olive-oil basted, Scooby-Doo soundtracked, moment.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #51: One of the interesting things to be attentive to in meditation, parenting, and life in general, is impatience. In meditation, you often see impatience in two forms: impatience within the practice itself, and impatience about the practice. An example of the former type is when you are immersed in your sit but frustrated with its progress, i.e.: "When will my mind shut up? It's been almost an hour and I want to get beyond this, but I am almost out of time! I need to count my breaths...no, that's not working...what can I do? It wasn’t like this yesterday; this shouldn’t be happening!” Etc. An example of the latter type is when you are on the cushion for all of 5 minutes but both your mind and body want to be done already and off to the day's doings, and your whole practice is spent using all of your focus and concentration to not get up until your established sitting time is over.

In parenting, we have the same two forms. An example of the former type, impatience within parenting, is when you just want your child to move faster, either physically, emotionally, academically, etc., rather than settling into wherever he/she happens to be for however long he/she needs to be there. I.e.: “Why isn’t she remembering how to do long division? Yesterday we were doing long division with decimals! Now it’s like we never did it! This is driving me crazy! She needs to be ready for algebra if she wants to get into a good college prep high school!” Or…”How long is it going to take to walk one block? I just want to get there! Why won’t he move a little faster? Yesterday I couldn’t get him to slow down!” It is usually in proportion to a parent’s state of personal uptightness or stress, which can compound itself brilliantly with the parent wishing they had time to meditate to alleviate that stress.

That leads us perfectly to an example of the second type: impatience about parenting, which happens when you are there with your child physically but really want to be doing something else—working on your poetry, working out, cleaning the house without disruption, meditating—and it takes all of your focus and concentration to simply try to stay present with being with the needs of your child. For all cases of impatience, and in all applications, the approach is the same. Just notice that you have it, give love to yourself and your impatient state, and gently be with it. It will take…patience…but it will pass much more quickly than if you go the “instant gratification” route and act on it by jumping off the cushion too soon or giving in to your uptight impulses with your child, rather than simply watching the impulses, noticing them and feeling them, unpleasant as those feelings are. Eventually, it will go away if you don’t hold on to it. And then it will come back. And then it will go away. And you won’t be stuck in any of it. 

TIPS 46-48: The Borg, Halloween, and the Oak Tree

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #46: Remember the Borg? Those big, bad mammajammas in Star Trek: The Next Generation that would find you, no matter where you were in the four quadrants of intergalactic space, and declare ominously: "You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." Of course, Picard and crew valiantly fought for their individual identities, as would any of us under such circumstances. But the spiritual path is not the same. It's more like: "I am here, waiting for you at Home, with a depth of peace, love, and understanding that is beyond a single, individual mind's comprehension, that is your birthright. Whenever you wish to stop resisting, you'll get here." And yet, so many of us still fight this call in the name of this concept of "individuality" or "self-identity" as if that gentle beckoning were from a Borg cubed spaceship, terrified that we will be overtaken if we "let go." Ironically, when one lets go to the fictional Borg, one gets outfitted in a heavy robotic suit and can barely walk. When one lets go to the true reality of the Universe, one soars weightlessly, without burdens. Live long and prosper.

MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS, Tip #47: When one becomes a parent, one begins an adventure of awareness that is keenly connected to one or more other deeply feeling beings. It's not "all about you" anymore. The choices you make for yourself, like embarking on a meditation practice, making earth-friendly choices, and more, become that much more important to the open-hearted beings you steward. This living, loving practice includes how much Halloween candy you choose to gorge yourself on. At least, show some discretion as to which brands of candy you totally pig out on, throwing in great memories from your childhood, with a few wise words between gooey, chewy, blissfully chocolatey mouthfuls about enjoying the experience without guilt, even though the rest of the year even one piece would drive you into a "teaching moment" about how refined sugar and cheap chocolate causes rotting teeth and pimples and is destroying the planet and promoting unfair economical practices, etc. The next morning, practice mindful quiet sneak-walking when removing a scrumptious York Peppermint Patty from your kids' Halloween basket, and appreciate every secret bite as you eat it for breakfast, throwing in a few childlike giggles between chews.

 MEDITATION PRACTICE FOR MOMS AND DADS (which is essentially everyone since we all care for others along this path), TIP #48: The next time you are terrifically stressed out because you are late for the orthodontist or unable to get to soccer on time because you cant find your daughter any clean socks or... (insert everyday stressor here)... stop for a moment, breathe deeply, and consider the oak tree outside, the air it exchanges life-giving gases with, the clouds that will sooner or later congregate to feed it water. It is unconcerned with dirty socks and missed appointments. And yet it grows, indescribably beautiful, calm, and upward, and will continue to do so even thirty years from now, when you are worried about being late for your geriatric checkup.