Going Nowhere Fast

This means Om, whatever that means.

I don't know why it has taken me so long to find my true calling, but in my sixth decade of life on this earth I finally have. Born into a Jewish family, I ultimately rejected all of it, except of course the food; I'm no idiot. After being a groupie turned hippie turned phony New York intellectual turned California vegetarian, I moved back to D.C. and became a Working Mother Inside the Beltway. I rubbed elbows with politicians while worrying about my son's ear infections. My dreams were even busier than my waking hours. Admittedly, I was lost. It took a four-year stint--yesterday was the anniversary of our moving here--in the Maine Woods to find out I'm a Buddhist! Who knew?

Cinching the deal is a book I am currently reading called, "Being Nobody, Going Nowhere." It's like the author met me and then came up with that title. I love it. It's teaching me how to just be, and be here, and be here now. And not worry. All good stuff. I might sound sarcastic but I am 100% serious. It's all about how the mind needs a rest just like the body. Imagine if you never got any sleep; you couldn't function. Well, according to this book's author, Ayya Khema--she's dead now--the same thing applies to the mind. Worry about the future or regrets about the past rob us of any chance for our minds to relax. At least they do me. Which is why my brain is so exhausted, with almost nothing to show for all its churning.

It's time to embrace my nobodyness. No joke, I'm getting one of those pillows and maybe even a little Shiva statue for my meditation room. What else am I doing? Nothing. Which according to this lady is just what I should be doing. I love this philosophy. Finally, there's something I just might excel at. (At which I just might excel, but who talks like that?)