Walking my dog this morning, I remembered that I still need to clean the basement floors since we had the ant problem. This little thought threw a spear of irritation, guilt, and urgency into my body, all at once. I piled it on top of a mountain of other thoughts just like it (the light bill! pick up the cleaning! what about the whole kitchen reorganization project? fax the papers to Windermere! the bookkeeping! call Elise!). I could feel the weight of this thought adding physically to the weight of everything else, and I slumped–as though I were actually carrying around a huge bag of rocks.
“Pay attention to this,” I thought. Pay attention. Look what you just did to your body with this thought. And I stepped back for a moment and stood still. Is there another way to see this? Another way to be with these thoughts?
And then the image of each task as a gift came to me. So I need to clean the basement floors. First, I have a basement! Second, the world is alive and kicking and so ants still crawl around, looking for whatever they look for in life. I don’t want them in my house, but still, this is a good thing for the planet. Third, I’ve got the tools and the time. Fourth, my body is functioning, precise, nimble, energetic. Gifts–individually wrapped inside a big box, wrapped in shiny red paper with a artful bow. The light bill? We have electricity! My brain works so that I can understand numbers, handle paper, pay bills online. (Midnight blue wrapping paper with stars all over it.) The kitchen reorganization project? The biggest box under the tree.
You get my drift.
But the shift in my body was the interesting thing. My neck softened. I stood up a little taller. I felt like someone had cleared the cobwebs out of my head. And life was just a tiny bit kinder.
So try it. Be generous to yourself today. See everything that shows up in your life as something that the Universe spent time wrapping, just for you.
Namaste, my friends.