I simply made a different choice and everything changed.
The day began as most do, I rolled out of my warm bed, extricating myself from the gooey and cuddly child and dog, peed, made my lemon water then sat down to write my morning pages. After recounting various unremarkable dream fragments I wrote, “I feel blank today.” I did. Not in a melancholic way, it was more nothing/neutral, as if my mind was void of course. There was an eerie silence in that maddening echo chamber located between my ears. Without much to say I moved on to my chores.
Every morning (in this exact order, says the Virgo) I feed and water the ducks and chickens, collect the eggs, walk the dogs, first Rosie followed by Maddy, then feed the dogs and Doodles the kitteh. Today, I decided, since she had been pestering me most of the morning, to walk Maddy first. As I walked her along our snowy track in our backyard, she pulled me in another direction… With all of the snow this winter, we have around 3ft of powder on our 1.5 acres. Over the weeks we have managed to tromp a fairly well packed narrow track that runs from the house straight back to the end of the property, then loops around the back then again around our sacred circle as it traverses the yard to meet up with the original path.
I always follow this path, in the same direction, every day, 4 times a day. Except today.
Today, Maddy caught the scent of something, a deer, bunnies, an old frozen turd…and yanked me westward where the paths converge. What happened next was startling.
I felt like Jake Sully when he first merged with his avatar in the movie Avatar. It was as if my body no longer knew how to walk. I felt clumsy and kept slipping off the packed trail, sinking knee deep into the powder. I was what I coined “dyscombobulatory”: The act of trying to walk while your brain is rebooting. What the hell, I giggled nervously. My vision was distorted slightly as if I couldn’t quite rectify what I was seeing with the sensory input coming from my proprioceptors. I was disoriented. The strangest sensation came from my brain itself. The best way to describe it is being woken from a deep sleep when you shouldn’t have been asleep. Like at your desk at work. There was a sudden mild panic and a shuffling of papers.
The person who was driving my avatar was asleep at the wheel, on autopilot. By doing the same thing, in the same order every single day, she thought, why bother, I don’t need to engage in this, I don’t need to participate. Ruts do that to us. They keep us plodding the same course ad nauseum, until we simply fall asleep…it takes a tree trunk falling onto our track to wake us up and force us to make a new choice.
It was a tabula rasa kind of moment for me this morning. I felt like a blank slate and in opening (read: being dragged) onto a new path my brain grew; it awakened novel synaptic pathways, which stimulated a heightened awareness of myself in relation to my Self. In that moment, I simultaneously awakened my physical avatar and my greater Being from the void, the nebula of my consciousness. A feeling of infusion followed…as if through coalescence, my greater Being was creating new growth or altering our existing matter.
And we don’t need a major event to do this. It can be as simple as allowing your dog to lead or choosing to switch the hand that controls the mouse…in making novel choices you can literally feel growth happening. And it puts you in that really cool place that is pure potential; where anything is possible.
ACIM teaches this as their first principle/exercise. It asks you to act as if everything you think you know, everything that you think is real and true is not. Let go of everything—to get to that tabula rasa state of pure potential.
If everything you think you know, everything you believe is suddenly gone…what is left?
You, floating in the void, profuse with the heady scent of pure creation. The opportunity to recreate your existence…a re boot.
Welcome to the new world, enjoy the ride!