06-28-2005, 12:00 AM
Saturday night my daughter was in a harshly critical mood and I didn't feel like giving my energy in any exchange with her. Normally, I either engage her in an argument or go to my room and shut the door, maybe go for a walk. Instead, I found myself headed for my keys, compelled to get in my (lovely new) car, absolutely clueless as to where I was going to go.
What a waste of gas, I heard in my head, driving with no idea where you're going. Dumb to put miles on your new car for no good reason, I thought, getting in. You'd feel stupid if you wrecked it out cruising, my rational mind continued, doing its best to get me to not go driving around and yet my hands and feet turned keys and hit pedals and soon I was gliding down the highway, not really enjoying it like I would expect (sunroof, leather, stereo, breeze -- these should make me feel good, right?)
I kept asking myself "where should I go?". It was oddly unsettling, not being able to come up with a destination. It intrigued me more than just a little, observing this "split" between the rational mind, chattering away in an effort to corral the body and the body acting on its own will, the creative mind "suspended" as if not up to considering anything other than simply driving on.
The body usually loses these battles with the critical mind and yet here I am, driving. I sensed the strangeness of it intensely and decided to stalk me and see where I ended up. I gave in to the wierdness and let go of my desire to know where I was headed.
At that very moment, the car in front of me swerved over the center line and back into his lane. I pondered what that guy's problem was as a familiar, silhouette lit up in my headlights: a pure white cat, in my lane.
I hit the brakes, gave myself about a three foot margin to the center line to make sure I still blocked the lane and opened the door, calling the cat as cars whooshed by at 60 miles an hour, in the dark to my left. (Odd, but as I recall this it wasn't dark when I got in my car and I didn't drive for very long at all).
The cat showed no interest in getting in with me so I threw on my flashers, speeding cars be damned, and stepped out into traffic (my mother would have had a fit). Stealthily, I gained his trust, picked him up and headed home, certain this was the point of my drive, instantly calm and relieved.
As I drove I smiled to myself. I thought of my (white) Suki cat, who I could not save from death, and felt grateful for a the chance to save this cat. I came home and all hostility had evaporated. My daughter made a sign and we drove out together (in "her" car, my old one) and I hung the sign in just the right spot.
I got one call, first thing the next morning, from the cat sitter who said the cat's mistress would have been "brokenhearted" if anything would have happened to that cat. I thought to myself "I know that feeling and I would do anything to save someone else from it". Indeed that intent was galvanized in my heart.
Intent, I think, can echo outward and bounce back to you. I prayed so hard to be able to save Suki's life that I think I caught the wave in the ether for the opportunity to come as close to my intent as I could without interfering with Suki's dance with power. I didn't have the power to keep her from dying but I apparently had enough to relieve someone else from that same knife through the heart.
What a waste of gas, I heard in my head, driving with no idea where you're going. Dumb to put miles on your new car for no good reason, I thought, getting in. You'd feel stupid if you wrecked it out cruising, my rational mind continued, doing its best to get me to not go driving around and yet my hands and feet turned keys and hit pedals and soon I was gliding down the highway, not really enjoying it like I would expect (sunroof, leather, stereo, breeze -- these should make me feel good, right?)
I kept asking myself "where should I go?". It was oddly unsettling, not being able to come up with a destination. It intrigued me more than just a little, observing this "split" between the rational mind, chattering away in an effort to corral the body and the body acting on its own will, the creative mind "suspended" as if not up to considering anything other than simply driving on.
The body usually loses these battles with the critical mind and yet here I am, driving. I sensed the strangeness of it intensely and decided to stalk me and see where I ended up. I gave in to the wierdness and let go of my desire to know where I was headed.
At that very moment, the car in front of me swerved over the center line and back into his lane. I pondered what that guy's problem was as a familiar, silhouette lit up in my headlights: a pure white cat, in my lane.
I hit the brakes, gave myself about a three foot margin to the center line to make sure I still blocked the lane and opened the door, calling the cat as cars whooshed by at 60 miles an hour, in the dark to my left. (Odd, but as I recall this it wasn't dark when I got in my car and I didn't drive for very long at all).
The cat showed no interest in getting in with me so I threw on my flashers, speeding cars be damned, and stepped out into traffic (my mother would have had a fit). Stealthily, I gained his trust, picked him up and headed home, certain this was the point of my drive, instantly calm and relieved.
As I drove I smiled to myself. I thought of my (white) Suki cat, who I could not save from death, and felt grateful for a the chance to save this cat. I came home and all hostility had evaporated. My daughter made a sign and we drove out together (in "her" car, my old one) and I hung the sign in just the right spot.
I got one call, first thing the next morning, from the cat sitter who said the cat's mistress would have been "brokenhearted" if anything would have happened to that cat. I thought to myself "I know that feeling and I would do anything to save someone else from it". Indeed that intent was galvanized in my heart.
Intent, I think, can echo outward and bounce back to you. I prayed so hard to be able to save Suki's life that I think I caught the wave in the ether for the opportunity to come as close to my intent as I could without interfering with Suki's dance with power. I didn't have the power to keep her from dying but I apparently had enough to relieve someone else from that same knife through the heart.