your moment(s) of zen.

so i was coming back from taking the husband to work and the song on the stereo changed. and a song came on that *instantly* transported me to another time and another place. a girl i used to be.

and just like that i was in el paso, texas. sun baked and dusty, looking right at the mountain that burst into green after it rained. and just like i was in all the towns that i've ever lived in that were so different than the one i'm in now. with the other people i've ever loved who were different than the one i love now. how i've lived a million lives and now i'm living this one. how amazing that is. really.

because when you are in those towns and with those loves you think that's your life. things find their balance, or don't, but they continue on and you go with it. never thinking it would be different than it is right now. that this moment is so defining how could another moment even come close. never imagining how drastically any life can change. and given time and distance, it usually does.

and how here i am at 39 living a very different life than i did at 18 or 24 or even 6 months ago. and i'm here. i made it. and in made it i mean i just lived my life. and...here i am. still standing still breathing and laughing and loving and living my life.

and i swear to you at that stoplight right then in this quickly becoming less alien never imagined i'd ever be here place i looked up and there were billowy and beautiful white clouds drifting across the bluest sky i've seen in so long. and right then the sun burst from the clouds and illuminated it all. everything. and it was like the hand of god or the whisper of the tao or the sturdy knowledge of buddha or the work of fairies or angels or gaia or whatever your spirit or faith or gut tells you to call it because there's a word in every language...right then i was touched by that thing. and right then i got *it.*

this morning i completely understood that my whole life's purpose is to live. that this thing i've been searching for that i know is out there and have come close to finding, that it's just to live the life i have been given. that's it. *it.* to be who i am and that THAT is the thing. that my big calling is to just fucking do it. to be this girl at this moment. to make the life i've been given or made or plunked into or chosen or haven't to make it MINE. to adapt to change to charge forth or hold back, just make it mine. and that is *it.*

it sounds simple but i will tell you what, it's not. because it means a shift in perception. to open the door to the possibility that every single thing i've ever done, the good the bad the ugly the boring the stupid and the on my knees heartbreaking is absolutely the thing that i should have done. that it is absolutely is all about me just being me. the rest is transitory and relative. i can gain and i can lose but i still have to be me. that there isn't some magic bullet of success or progress that i just haven't tapped into yet. my life, right now, is success. and not success 'enough.' just success. all those moments. strung together and pulling me along.

and what's interesting is i think i knew this in some capacity. i've seen glimmers of it. but to fully 100% *know* that i've been doing exactly as i should have been all along is pretty fucking sweet. it's enchanting and delightful and bubbly. and that's the only way i can describe *it.* so thank you hand of god or whisper of the tao or buddha or fairies or angels or gaia or whatever your spirit or faith or gut tells you to call it because there's a word in every language (i even have my own)...you can reach out and touch me any time you like.

and that's the beauty of music. you can be living your life that eventually balances, or doesn't, but does just becomes the life you feel like you always lived, and then a song comes on and reminds you that it's a series of moments. this moment just being one of them. strung together to make a life. and the song pulls at one part. and it buckles and puckers a bit, and then just like the bluest sky after a whole winter buried in snow you are transported. and reminded.

so it is in this spirit that i bring you this installment of your moment(s) of zen. likely it's not the song to transport you, but i'm guessing after you listen to it you can find the one that does.

so the song ended. the light changed. and then i drove like an asshole all the way home. because if i'm going to live the life i've been given and make it mine and adapt and shift well...that's just how they do it here.

x.