Out of Our Control

           

It was in the 20’s this morning—that’s 20 degrees Fahrenheit!!  For those who might not know it, I live in Central Florida; not too far north of us they had snow flurries—amazing!  We heard last night that we could have a hard freeze today, so we were somewhat prepared, but the situation caused me to think about what happens when we see the unexpected coming and there’s nothing we can do. . .

 

When we realized the cold was coming, we almost fell into “griping mode.”  You know, the “it’s not supposed to get cold in Florida,” and “I hope we don’t have to take plants indoors too often,” and “What happens if we’re out of town”—the griping state of mind.  But we quickly switched to the “mumbling mode” where we realized that this deep cold is unusual for Florida, and this cold snap was predicted for only a couple of days.

 

From that frame of mind, we quickly transitioned into adjusting mode:  we realized that some of our outside plants might be at risk.  So we moved my orchid plants into the living room, and carried Jerry’s bonsai plants to sit next to the outside wall for added protection.  It was strange and quite lovely having the orchids on their bamboo benches sitting on the tile floor of our great room.  The flowers and buds I’ve been admiring for weeks were just a step away.  The bonsais huddled next to the wall, seemingly relieved to be fortified against the brunt of the cold weather.

 

I also realized I could get some clothes out of the closet that I almost never have the chance to wear anymore.  Forget sandals and cropped pants and cotton blouses!  I had so many choices, since I still had clothes from my days in Colorado—shall I choose the red wool sweater?  How about the beige cowl neck sweater that I’ve never had the chance to wear?  The teal sweater that's a favorite color but is almost too warm even in the coldest climate?  I decided to go with the beige sweater.  It was such a pleasure to feel the wool against my skin instead of cotton and polyester. 

 

But even my beige wool sweater wasn’t enough warmth for this Florida-acclimated woman in my office/meditation area this morning.  That room only gets the afternoon sun, and since I meditate with the shutters open, I could feel the cold resonating off the sun-deprived window.  So out came my wool shawl—the one I always take to meditation retreats—and covered myself from head to toe in its comfort and warmth.  I was surrounded by my own little tepee-like wrap.  The cold room gave me the opportunity to sit in meditation in an old, familiar way.

 

Later in the morning, I looked out the kitchen window.  I wondered about the ducks and cormorants and how they were diving into the water for food.  How resilient these birds are, going about their business in this cold and windy weather!  These lovely creatures probably don’t even have the capacity to wonder why it’s so cold out, or grumble about the water temperature.  They just dive and float and eat, as they always do.

 

That’s what living life has been offering up today:  in one moment, I notice what I don’t want to happen; in the next moment, I realize what the unexpected is offering up; in the next moment I complain about my experience; and in the next moment I just do what I need to do and appreciate the new sensations and my own reactions that emerge.  My willingness to notice and embrace my experience, whether I reject or accept it, enjoy or dislike it, is part of the joy of practice.