Impressed! This day, despite all the fear porn bad news which I keep reading and refusing to post, e.g. Russian “bombers” 50 miles off the coast of California, I witnessed and/or participated in three miracles. Well, three altogether; two of different kinds.
The first miracle, I had hoped for, but not expected. Knowing that sometimes cut down trees do regenerate, I actually went outside this morning to check on the “murdered mimosa.” And voila!
See all the little branches coming off especially the southeast corner of the cut tree? Whoopee! Now of course, you might not call this one a miracle, since it does happen sometimes, even to mimosas. On the other hand, any instance of complete and total regeneration, is that not a miracle?
The second and third miracles need a bit of introduction.
Glasses: First of all, because my glasses have no rims, they are very hard to find if I just put them down without thinking. Which I often do. Especially when I’m exhausted, which I was after lunch, having eaten something unnamable from the just-cleaned freezer that had been unearthed by my helper Maya (I did steam it first), and that turned out to be sweet rather than savory. So I stumbled off to bed for a nap. When I woke up, as usual, I couldn’t find my glasses, and you know, if you too are nearsighted, that of course you can’t see them without them, how hard they are to find when not on your face . . .
Finally, after going round and round the house, checking all the spots they usually land on, at least five times, in desperation, I reached for my long forgotten pendulum. Luckily, and oddly, since I was blind, remember, it was right where I put it last, months ago, in its by now somewhat dusty green velvet bag.
BTW: I say, “in desperation,” because the pendulum, for me, has been good for making yes/no decisions, but not for finding things in yes/no directions. Good, but not fabulous. It never swings around wildly, just sort of subtly indicates that it’s going either clockwise or counterclockwise.
So, as I said, desperation.
Right away, an astonishing response. I pointed it in the direction of the den, a wildly counterclockwise “NO.” I pointed it toward the porch/bedroom/bathroom area. Wildly swinging clockwise “YES.” I started to walk towards the porch, and the swinging started to wane; turned toward bathroom/bedroom, and wild swinging commenced. Turned into bathroom doorway, and swinging waned; turned toward bedroom and wild swinging commenced, and got stronger and stronger as I moved forward to the table on the side of my bed that I had already checked, five times, while blind.
Did I not move my hand over that book? I thought I had done so, in fact, five times. . . Hmmm. The other explanation here is that my long deceased husband Jeff was playing tricks on me again, moving stuff around, something he hasn’t done for about three years.
But somehow I don’t think so. Not sure why, but I do think this miracle was more mundane. If you can call sudden wild success with a pendulum mundane. And I think the glasses episode was prep for the dremel tool.
Dremel tool: Even as I picked up the pendulum a question in the back of my mind had subtly presented itself. What if the pendulum will find the dremel tool? As I went followed its lead right to the glasses, that question remained.
The reason I need the dremel tool now is because the rabbit, Alyce, has one tooth that grows out every few months to the point where we have to drill it off. This operation doesn’t seem to hurt him. I hold him closely wrapped in a towel while Rebecca carefully drills off the tooth. As you can see, the tooth is so long now that he’s having trouble eating his greens.
Yes, that really is a long white tooth sticking down from his poor little mouth!
So I was desperate to find that tool, and have been looking for the past two weeks. The only other options are to either buy another dremel tool or to take him to the vet. Both at least $50.
And yes, you’ve guessed it. The pendulum, swinging wildly, pointed me towards the basement, then on a circuit around it, ending up in the room I had thought it was in. Yep! There it was, on a table, in plain sight. I had expected to see a box, but it was unwrapped. I know I had checked that table, but perhaps the box in my mind stopped me from seeing the thing the box usually enclosed?
The entire time I was looking for first, my glasses, and next, the dremel tool, I had an uncanny feeling of being “hooked up” to the pendulum. Not my conscious mind, but my unconscious mind. The larger mind. The one that’s coterminous with all of reality. The one from which miracles spring.
Right brain, rather than left. The spacious, quantum-connected, brain of limitless possibilities; not the linear, “logical” brain that operates by boring “rules” that decide “belief systems” and thus can never, ever allow in anything new. The right brain that we are all longing for, the one that ignores our conceptual helmets, the one that Jill Bolte Taylor (a Bloomingtonian) discovered by being “stroked” and went on to give the second most watched TED talk ever: My Stroke of Insight.