Okay so yesterday my world simply fell apart leaving me a bundle of raw nerves, something like might happen if injected with about ten shots of pure adrenalin. My husband had slipped into a mini depression and I slipped right along with him. Soon I was in the pits of despair, no maybe the pits of hell, probably just the pits of hormones .. .
Yeah, I know, not very enlightened. Sometimes life is like that, I guess. Funny thing though, I woke up today feeling ever so slightly better, for no real reason. Life is like that too. I was teetering wondering which way to fall: celebrate life? or sink into despair? Celebrate? or despair? I weighed the odds, but really I wanted answers.
I made my way over to Whole Foods and meandered around in an unstructured way. Eventually I found myself in front of the teas, who were, well, “teasing” me. My gaze landed me right smack in front of ‘Get a Grip” tea. I cracked up. I couldn’t help it, it was too perfect. “Get a grip,” is one of my husband’s favorite expressions. When the world is coming down upon the shoulders of one or the other of our kids – you know, the “I have too much homework and I’m going to fail everything” throes – his standard response is “Get a grip!” Or when I have succumbed to hormonal blues, he’ll roll his eyes and say “get a grip.” Yup, this is particularly endearing coming from a man who suffers from his own bouts of crippling depression.
I reached over to get the “Get a Grip” tea, thinking it would make a cute gift for him. I could spout it back at him. But no, the universe is always one up on me. I read the description: “an herb tea for PMS/Menopause” – hmm.
I read the label a little further:
“Women are complex creatures . . . .” it started out. Got that right.
“When those hormones are out of balance, or monthly blues cramp your style, it’s reassuring to know you can get a grip with a simple cup of this herbal tea.”
Works for me, I thought. (I love marketing.)
The scales were tipping. Hanging out in the pits of hell seemed less appealing – well, my mind reasoned, that either means I won’t become enlightened because I can’t hang out in the pits of hell long enough or that I am closer to enlightenment because I didn’t hang out there too long.
I don’t know. I seem to hear it both ways. I don’t even care.
I grab my tea and think, well either way, the pits of hell have a battle coming. I have a secret weapon and shall smite them with my “get a grip” tea.
At home, I sit down to brew a fine cup of herbal tea and reach for a magazine:
“You share 25% of the sames genes as a banana.” I read. I ponder this profundity and smile. Perfect, I think. I’m nearly as good as a banana. The pits of hell retreat in horror.
Eventually I make my way to my computer which is slyly beckoning me to search the net yet again for the secret of enlightenment. Surely Google has the answer somewhere. For the hell of it (no pun intended,) I punch in one of my favorite teacher’s names and find an article he’s written. I didn’t really know he wrote any, so I am intrigued. He is expounding on a recently discovered 8th chakra, which has come to be known as the clown chakra. Yes, that’s right I said “clown” not “crown.” Turns out this new chakra is located somewhere between the heart and the throat chakras, or was it the throat and the third eye? Well, anyway, when it is blocked, life gets a bit miserable. So, how do you unblock your clown chakra? According to my esteemed teacher – you just need laugh and take Life less seriously.
So, you see, Life, through several diverse channels, did present me all the answers I desired: Get a grip lady. Take life less seriously. Open your clown chakra and remember you are ¼ Banana.