Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Ester, Jerry, Abraham, I Gotta Remember That Secret Thingamajiggy

Before I left town for a week, I did that thing I do....cleaned until I was snarly, which didn't get me very far because cleaning makes me snarly and I hate to inflict that piece of my personality on my beloveds so the dust and fur get out of hand, but I'm sweet, you know. There I was, down to the wire, the sink empty and clean, the dishwasher vacant, the garbage hauled out, the floors mopped, and all the clothes washed. As I was making the frantic dash to tidy this and that, I thought of other trips I had taken, or rather other homecomings, and how, no matter how I tried to leave the house in some semblance of order, I would return to overflowing, smelly garbage, and dishes piled in the sink and covering the counters. I briefly thought of pressing The Boyfriend not to let that happen, but since I was snarly anyway, I figured I would just smear him with a film of accusation, so that if he did what I asked, he would resent it, and if he didn't do what I asked, I would resent it, nobody really wins, so instead I told the Universe what I wanted and decided I would deal with what was what when I got home. I imagined my homecoming, the kitchen as clean as I left it, and how happy I was to be home. I only flashed on this vision, because I was snarly, and there still was much to do before I left.

Seven days later I was headed for my house, where the son of my 83-year-old traveling companion was to meet us, saving me a two-hour round trip to deliver her to her door. Only he didn't answer the phone two hours out of town. And he didn't answer the phone one hour out of town. And he didn't answer the phone as we pulled into town.

I thought of how tired I was. I thought of the week of being sociable. I thought about waiting for the son at my house, neither I nor my companion being able to relax until we contacted the son, and then there would be the at least hour's wait for him to arrive. I thought of the trash and dirty dishes of years past. I shot past my town and headed for hers. It just seemed simpler.

When I did finally arrive at home, the sink was spotless. The garbage was only half-full. I had to wonder if he took out the trash, or if I were the one who accumulated garbage? At any rate, my vision had come true, including the happy part of it. Without me saying a word. Without me indicating he needed a mommy to tell him what to do. (Okay, you feminists...if you wonder about the division of our work-load, ask me, but definitely, our division works for us, which is what feminism is all about. If this bothers you, just stick to the point of the story...that what I envisioned came to be.) "It was great to come home to the clean sink," I said. (I'm not above positive reinforcement, though it's best not to be condescending--a fine line--about it.) He laughed. "And I emptied the trash, too," he said as if we had actually had that conversation before we left, only if we had had (are you dizzy yet, with all those hads?)that conversation, he would not have been laughing....nobody likes being told what to do. "And washed the clothes and dusted the television. And the fan." He was happy, I was happy, we were all happy.


And I KEEP FORGETTING. This envisioning stuff, it works for me. Over and over and over again. Why does thinking about what I want seem to be WORK, and I let it slide. I certainly could have used it several times on the trip. Maybe even with the son being where we needed him to be when we needed him to be there. The possibilities washed over me, as they always do when I remember the Power of Visualizing. I must remember to ask, I told myself, I MUST remember to ASK.

So what did I ask for next? World peace? Food for the starving? Cure for terminal illness?

Nah. My brain's still occupied with the little personal matters-to-me. I asked not to spill food on my shirt when we went to the Mexican restaurant. And it worked. And when Mr. Neat dropped that bit of cheese dip, I didn't even laugh.

Krishmanurti said be the peace you want to see. Maybe that starts with the little personal things, the dishes and clean shirt.

But whatever you want, you've got to remember to ask for it. And feel the happiness, as if you already have it.

Okay, today's lesson's over. Bet I'm forgetting already.

No! Wait! I am asking to remember. Now I've gotta go and visualize those results, and how happy I am to get them.





8 comments:

Nicole said...

Yes. Asking for it. Visualizing it as if it already is so. And then being darn sure you aren't wishing someone were out of your hair to the point that suddenly, s/he is, and you're not quite sure that's what you meant. =)

My husband has gone hog wild with the secret thingamajiggy and it just might secret him right away after all.

Yikes!

Nicole said...

Don't know if it ate my comment or not. There was no message saying it was awaiting blog owner approval...no nothing...just back to this screen. Hmm...I'll have to wait and see.

But yes. Ask. And I have learned to be very careful about what I ask for! =)

Camellia said...

And if it's not what you thought it would be, then, ask again. And again. Refine the request.

Well, I'm sure there's lots of ramificaitons, but I like not dropping food on my shirt.

Keetha said...

This seems such a happy, fulfilled way to be. It's a good thing to strive for.

Mrs. G. said...

I'm not above positive reinforcement either. I find that by lowering the bar regarding Mr. G's domestic capabilities, we both are happier. Whatever works.

Starshine said...

Thanks for visiting my blog today!

How nice to come home to a clean house after a vacation. :)

tumbleweed said...

am trying really hard to make visualization work on the ravelled intestinal mass that is my office, where receipts have collected like paper snowdrifts and the annual Dragon (tax return) awaits slaying...

Mental P Mama said...

I believe this in every cell of my being. Great post.