In Zen We Trust…

Admittedly so, I have not been terribly ‘zenful’ in my more recent (relatively speaking, so give me a break) posts.  I know that the art of Zen is to let the Universe take care of itself and all is well.  I’m just stubborn.

My juxtaposition has stemmed from the need for anyone who would listen (and read) to know that I am adamantly appalled by our political situation.  Well, after Tuesday, we’re done.  It’s a wrap.

So, as an Election Judge, I have willingly removed myself from the outside world, MSNBC, the sordid polls, radio talk shows with uninformed callers, sound bites, mass emails and newspaper clippings from 6 am until whenever we are released.  We have even been instructed to bring a “beach read”, should we find it necessary to bring reading material.  Honestly, I have just the book in mind and am grateful for the opportunity to indulge in a guilty pleasure should the projected lines actually subside.

What I realize, as I laugh cynically at the irony of how I will spend my day, is that the Universe has placed me exactly where I need to be on November 4th.  Otherwise, I would simply be going crazy flipping from CNN to MSNBC and avoiding FOX altogether, waiting to see who would break the news first that McCain simply spontaneously self-combusted while swapping television appearance stories with Joe and Sarah.  You know, the old, ‘my agent is better than your agent’ one-up bit.

So, I have entered the most Zen-like state that I have been in the last six months. I will pray tonight and I will fulfill my duty as an American at the polls tomorrow.  I will trust that all is well and God truly has nothing but our best interest intended for all of us.  At all times.  No matter what happens, we will be just fine because He is always working in our favor.  God makes no mistakes.  And in this…I trust.

True Zen...

True Zen...

Moving

I am on a rollll!!! Two posts in a row!

 

 Actually, I am writing this because one of the things that I cannot even believe that I forgot to mention in my list of items from my previous post, is that I am constantly lobbying my family to move to Florida.  More specifically the west coast of the Sunshine state.  Sure, it doesn’t look so great with Gustav chasing his girlfriend Fay right now but you have to be there to really appreciate it. The sand is sugary and the water is clear blue.  Of course, be sure to try to avoid the tropical depressions as much as possible.

 

Perhaps the reason I neglected to mention my urge to relocate is because there is actually decent weather here in the D.C. area so far this week. It’s a tad overcast here today but I am not complaining about the 74 degrees. However, what made me think about it this morning is that the leaves have actually begun to fall already. At the risk of sounding like Lil Jon, “What?!?!”  Honestly, this is just ridiculous.  This is a perfect example of why I want to move to the land of the Palm trees.  No one in my house is on board yet.

 

I’m no fool. I don’t expect the longer days, beautiful sunsets, 70 degree winters and gorgeous beaches to sell themselves. I have presented some really strong arguments.  Everything from academic incentives to preventative health tips. Who wouldn’t want to have the option of doing their homework on the beach?  Levels of vitamin D are elevated in that part of the country due to the sun exposure and therefore the highest risk group for prostate cancer, Black males, actually have their risk factor significantly diminished. Still, no bites.

 

Of course, my daughter’s objection is that she does not want to leave her friends. Way to tug at my heart strings.  Although, I’m beginning to think that it is a selective tugging. We have very recently been informed by her that she is willing to leave these so called “friends” if we would agree to send her to New York for high school. 

 

My dear, sweet husband, Eliot’s objection is that he needsa change of seasons.  Change schmange.  If I am correct, the only significant snowfall that we had last winter left me shoveling the driveway while he was on a business trip in…FLORIDA. Hmmm… The times that we have been fortunate enough to visit Florida during the Holiday season together, his complaining begins the minute we get off the plane.  We haven’t even reached baggage claim and he’s complaining about the humidity.  By the time we walk into the beautifully decorated lobby of the hotel and walk past the Christmas tree, he’s declared the entire situation blasphemous.  My hands are over my ears and I am singing blissfully, “La, la, la, la, la.  I can’t hear you…”  I am in the moment…zen-fully navigating.

 

I know that truthfully, I am simply dreading the end of summer.  Back to making lunches (or at least supervising the making of lunches), early alarm buzzing and carpool lines. The shuttle service resumes promptly next Tuesday morning. All I get in return is the sight in my rearview mirror of the tween bopping her head to the music of the latest Disney money maker a.k.a The Jonas Brothers on her iPod. If I was not navigating so zenfully and putting a positive outlook on this thing, I would be crying and whining this last week of the summer just like my daughter and all of her friends.  Not me, I am the spiritually evolved adult.   I have to be strong! I won’t even cry when the days start getting shorter and we have to wake to the 30-40 degree dark mornings. 

 

 Admittedly, there is a small part of me that wonders whether or not living in Fl would actually meet the extremely high expectations that I have set for Chad Country.  Afterall, whenever we are there, we are visiting some great resort or similar.  I have tried to imagine it without the valet opening my door whenever we return home.  Or the daily maid service. Or the beach only a few yards from the door. 

 

Then there’s the level of conversation.  And this is always Eliot’s weapon of choice to stop my whining. I am referring to political conversation.  Being born in D.C. has ingrained this in my DNA.  I have lived in other cities.  Not a lot of other cities but at least I have lived outside of the D.C. Metro area.  I learned quickly that political speak is not part of everyone’s everyday conversation in these cities.  I fear that this may be the case in more places than I would like to consider.  I can’t help but to think that especially during such an exciting and historically political period, the place to be is D.C.  Where else can you find two separate people on a Sunday speaking on their cell phones at an ‘I want to make sure everyone within a 200 foot radius can hear me’ decibel about their “dreaded” travels.  One man whining that “Yeah, I’ll have to be in Denver for the week” and the woman announcing to her mother and everyone else how much she “just hated China!” For those of you who have not been to a Washington cocktail party or Saturday morning soccer game where the very next question after a person shakes your hand is, “So what do you do?”, this can be a very pretentious city.

 

I have tried to have political conversations with native Washingtonians who seemed to have lost their political grip by moving to other states.  I know for a FACT that this would not happen to me.  We know one transplant in Florida who swears by the republican party.  Yes, he’s drinking the Kool Aid.   (Just wondering: does an increase of vitamin D lead one to bump his head?)  When challenged, he reminded me that republicans were the original party for Blacks in this country.  Almost like he didn’t get the memo that republicans are the new (relatively speaking) derivative of southern democrats. 

 

Even worse was the conversation with my own family member who has lived in L.A. for the past several years.  I am aware that “breaking news” in L.A. consists of Paris Hilton trotting down the catwalk from jail to her awaiting vehicle, but I was sure that a member of my own blood line (Strong Like Bull) was immune to that nonsense.  The last political conversation that I attempted to have with him was straight from the book written in the Land of Fruits and Nuts.  Something about, “I don’t watch the news or read the papers because then I will begin to believe that there are horrible things going on in the world.  They want you to buy into what you see. I refuse to.” These were not his words verbatimbut I am pretty close. I do have a witness.  He was well beyond navigating zenfully.   More like wandering obliviously. 

 

In his defense, I have since recieved a picture of him and Barack.  I don’t know his current political views, I dare not tread that water again, but at least I would like to believe that he has to be following the campaign trail and perhaps something is seeping in through osmosis.   Keeping my fingers crossed.

 

Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time we’ve had even a decent dusting of snow on Christmas morning. I am a softie and Christmas morning is the only time that I feel that snow serves a purpose. Otherwise, it’s overrated.  Nonetheless, I am fairly certain that thanks to the strides in technology that would allow me to stay in touch with my homebase and frequent flyer miles, I could give up pretentious PTA coffees for  warm Christmas mornings. 

 

It isn't Sarasota but Marco Island has beautiful sunsets as well...

It isn't Sarasota but Marco Island has beautiful sunsets too...