I Woke Up Yesterday

I did; I woke up yesterday. I can't quite explain it, especially for those who have not been doing extensive brain training like I have for more than three years.

It is as if I'd been awakened from a very, very long dream. Everything in my house looked new; I didn't recognize some things or had forgotten their existence. At first, I was nervous and felt out of sorts, like something bad was going to happen. But I breathed my way through the anxiety and let it flow, as it was going to do anyway.

The first weird thing is that I woke up from my normal sleep earlier than usual that morning, got up, and stayed up. My son and I had breakfast together and we chatted and as always, he made me laugh at something--I wish I could remember now, because sometimes he's so brilliant in his perception. Our eyes made contact in a deeper way.

Gary had been gone a couple of days checking out a boat in Rhode Island; personally, I didn't care whether he came back with a boat. Hearing the happiness in his voice talking about how great it was to have gotten together with some of his college friends was more than worth the time and effort of the trip.

I walked around the house wondering what to do; that's when I "woke up." Coming out of the fog, I felt like Sleeping Beauty (and I don't want to hear ANY arguments on my choice of words, you hear?) except that the magic kiss wasn't magic at all. It was the result of years of hard work and it was my own embrace I was feeling. Shedding, letting go, letting it be.

First thing was taking stock of the house and how it needed some attention; laundry to be put away, things that had been stacking up needing to be either tossed or stowed, the coat closet that's been making me nuts for quite some time. It all started innocently, but in little more than an hour, I had done quite the job on putting things in their place in the house. In my house. It felt so good to look around and know that anyone could walk through the door and I'd be ready to show them around without having to worry about the dirt.

Simple actions, simple tasks, huge rewards.

As I was cleaning the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and saw two huge heads of cauliflower. I love me some cauliflower! One head was the normal white and the other was a beautiful shade of gold. All of a sudden, I had to cook them, right then! (This from someone who usually has to be lead kicking and screaming to the stove!)

I pulled down a few cookbooks and flipped through my favorites for a recipe that included things I had on hand. The first to measure up was a cauliflower-cheese soup from "The Moosewood Cookbook" by Mollie Katzen. It was a beautiful discovery (again) from when cooking was something I did every day and sometimes all day.

Cleaning the vegetables for the soup, I was struck anew by their simple beauty and thanked the universe for them. I separated, chopped, sliced, measured, and sauteed. Adding liquid and heat, the soup's aroma filled my newly rediscovered house with a scent of calm and peacefulness and HOME. My heart was beating hard, and, after worrying just for a few seconds whether I was about to stroke out, I calmed it with breathing and acceptance.

Pureeing the hot soup brought forth a speckled canvas of flavor. Again, simple actions, simple tasks, huge rewards.

Things weren't perfect, because I did not have everything I need for this particular soup. Instead of cheddar cheese, I substituted Manchego cheese. After a taste, this proved mellow and complemented the flavor of the cauliflower perfectly. I also did not have buttermilk, but sour cream worked equally as well and added more richness than tartness.

Before today, if I hadn't had the exact ingredients, I'd be truckin' to the store to make sure everything was perfect. No substitutions! No changes! No creativity! I channeled my daughter with her superb cooking skills and relaxed and changed the way I did things, hopefully for good.

This new state of wakefulness bled into the rest of the day, changing my reactions to all sorts of things. Even a written altercation with someone regarding a subject I feel strongly about eventually brought about some good laughs and a bit of sympathy for someone who is obviously in a huge amount of pain. My friends had my back and for that I am grateful.

This wakeful state is a little unnerving and I feel a little "off" today. Unless it's my sinuses. But I prefer to believe it's this new stage of living that I'm entering; I've never had anything like that awakening happen before and it is so very cool.

The wakeful flow kept on until late in the night when Gary finally arrived from his trip; and you know? We didn't talk about the boat, which was the primary reason for his trip. We talked into the night about his friends, where they ate, how beautiful his days were, and how we would talk more tomorrow about the lesser things in life.

I can't believe I'm living such an obvious metaphor, but I am and am so happy to be awake to see it and know it and feel it! So thankful for being wakeFULL!