The grooves on the lid of the jar strain against the skin on my hand. Fucking – stupid – bloody – argh! – why do they make them so – fucking owwww! – give up – no! Fuck you I want some fucking peanut butter – fatty – what did you say? – someone will walk in any second now – why can’t I open – you really want them to see this? – FUCK!!!
A squeal from the other room. It pierces my ear and punches me in the stomach, ricocheting up my spine. I leap out of myself, over the toybox, army roll down the corridor and dive over the the bike parked ever so cleverly in the one of the most frequented pathways in the entire house. By the time I have made it through the gauntlet and into the living room doorway, the shrill has dissolve into an infectious giggle. It bounces around her body with boundless energy.
His tail kicks up such a desperate dance. It’s determined to snap off from his backside and fly off back to it’s maker, unaware that it’s already home. He has her tiny frame pinned to the floor with all four paws and a sloppy, wet tongue. He’s strategic – I’ll give him that: he’s got shoulders, hips and face covered – she’s not going anywhere. Not that this ever crosses her mind. She is exactly where she wants to be. Right here, right now, this is her bliss. Her truth. All of her short five years on the planet have come to this moment. And she is all light and love.
“Kitti, you ok there?”
It’s a stupid question, really. I feel sheepish as soon as it leaves my mouth. She, on the other hand, pays it no attention. It doesn’t even make a dint on her bliss bubble. It simply bounces off into the stratosphere, deleted from reality.
Their love is impenetrable. He can’t help but smother her with joy. It’s completely out of his control. She is helpless to it’s power. She can do nothing but surrender herself of it.
I smile and let out a long breath. I realise I am still holding the peanut butter jar. It’s no longer cutting grooves into my skin. Without shifting my gaze from the two friends on the floor, I gently twist open the lid, plunge my middle finger in and scoop out a generous dollop. I wrap my mouth around my peanut-buttered digit, relishing the salty goodness.
Who needs artificial distractions to entertain our minds when life itself shows us when – and how – to shift our focus? The illuminated life is so much more vibrant than we give it credit for. If we would only pay attention.
Dharana (focus) is holding one’s awareness in one place – Part 3, Sutra #3
This steady single focus propagating unceasingly is Dhyana – Part 3, Sutra #2
“As a man thinketh, so shall he be.”
It is better to live your own dharma unsuccessfully than to try to live someone else’s dharma. – Bhagavad Gita