Talk about going from one end of the mountain to the other. This week I had exceptional spontaneous moments of ecstasy and one shattering 7-inch reality call.
Monday I awakened with the words “I greeted this day with love in my heart” marching in a rhythmic cadence in my head.
Tuesday I started telling myself “I love me,” as I walked my weekday, routine, half-mile trek from where I parked my car, to my office. I was about a block away from my office building when a man about 10-feet in front of me turned, smiled, waved and stopped walking.
He waited for me to catch up. He gave me greeting as if we had been friends since the beginning of time. He asked me where I worked. I graciously responded. He then asked if I was a professor. “No. I’m on the staff,” I replied. Reciprocity stepped in and pulled “what do you do on campus,” out of my mouth. “I’m a physics professor.” “Cool,” I joyfully responded.
He told me his name. I repeated his name twice, because of his strong Ethiopian accent. He patiently enunciated his name both time. I think I got it close enough. He wished me a good day, turned left, and slowly disappeared behind the mathematics department building. That was different, I thought.
I repeated his name in my head and returned to my earlier affirmation — “I love me.”
I felt the might of King Kong and the peacefulness of Gandhi manifest within.
Wednesday I had a new affirmation. The menu I selected my daily mental feast consisted of three words, “I am powerful.” I felt absolute control over my thoughts and emotions. Not even the harassing buzzing of a mosquito could have ruffled me.
Thursday. Aha, yes. Thursday. The morning started with a triple decker, “I can be what I will to be,” I love me.” and “I am powerful.” The sky was bluer. The wind felt like hundreds of kisses from angles. I wished my morning and afternoon could be my Groundhog Day movie. But how could it get any better?
On my drive home I put in a new company CD. I wanted to familiarize myself with it before I shared it with a new partner. Seven minutes into the CD a jackhammer crew destroyed a mental protective shield I had accepted as normal. The person on the CD said he discovered he was “living scared.” Those two words floated in like a butterfly and stung me like a bee on steroids.
It’s difficult to drive when tears clouding your vision, and the Mississippi River is flowing down your face. Why did those two words shatter my tranquility? I confessed like I was the final witness on Matlock . “I’m living scared,” I cried out. “I’m living scared.”
Twenty plus weeks and the cement is still falling. I instinctively knew my life had just changed. In the words of Johnny Nash, “I can see clearly now that the rain is gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It’s gonna be a bright, bright, sunshiny day.”
Friday was that sunshiny day. If you think it was a wave free day at the beach, it wasn’t. The difference was me. I was a detached observer. I easily brought calm, when lighting and thunder were attempting to rush in. Nothing could ruffle me. Things I would have remained silent about were address with diplomatic skills. I could express myself without feeling anger. Hesitation was sent on an extended vacation. I started to believe I own my life.
What fired-up the furnace in me. Maybe it was loving me. Maybe it was knowing I am who I will to be. Maybe it was because I’ve started to realize my power. Maybe it’s none of these.
What ever poked the giant within and woke him up, he is yelling, “I love me,” and living scared is yesterday’s news.