I once had a panic attack standing in the self-help section of a bookstore in Sydney. Because I couldn't decide which book to buy, and the guy was closing up the bookstore, and I needed a book so badly because I was so fucked up.
Ended up choosing a dud book that sits in my bookshelf to this day, unread.
Sometimes I rest on my laurels, thinking I've done so much work on myself already that surely I'm done, don't need to do any more?
Somewhere along the path of the last decade, I had a spiritual awakening. I found all this stuff in me that I had never actually lost, it had just never been acknowledged in the first place.
Yesterday after Tims soccer game, we all drove down to the big shopping centre. Dave and I were so delirious ... we walked in, looked at each other and both said "What the HELL were we thinking!" Tim needed new clothes, and I promised Maxie a new Mr Men book. I took Max and the baby into the bookshop.
Confession: I have not been able to finish reading a book for over a year now. And I don't know why. I'm in the middle of some awesome books ... Anne Lamott, Julia Cameron, even Marion Keyes. I can't finish any of them. My unspoken theory is, maybe I have read so many books in my life that I'm full. And unless I write one myself, I won't be able to read any more.
Strange, I know. I did kind of write a childrens book, last year. I keep putting off posting about it, because it's not "proper." And who the hell do I think I am? How dare I start achieving my dreams?
Anyway we were in this bookshop yesterday. Max was choosing between Mr Wrong and Mr Clever, the baby scooted off and I found him in non-fiction, hunched over something. Walking up, I realise he was eating somebodys discarded donut from off the floor. He saw me and shoved the whole thing in his freaking mouth, because that's what Cavemen Midgets DO.
How luxurious is it to buy new books? Max bought Mr Wrong and Mr Clever, Rocco bought The Tale of Peter Rabbit, and I bought Wayne Dyer's Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao. I've started reading it and it's bloody awesome. I think it picked me, and I really hope I can finish it. I hope I can always remember to stay teachable.
Driving home, munching on Rocky Road, we were all content. Talking about how great the party was, our upcoming camping trip. I blasted U2s latest album, telling Dave not to worry, the baby loves loud music.
No crisis, no arguments, no cancer. Just clarity and gratitude and love. Dave kept wanting to hold my hand. I said to him, "Wow, how come we love each other so much?"
"Dunno hon. I think we always do. Just go with it."
The simple things in life can make my heart burst open.