Friday, August 18, 2000

 

1:04 a.m. Our new, old TV came back today and it was like greeting a new, old friend. In addition, we have a few extra channels to play around with until we decide whether or not we're going to rehook up the cable, get the satellite dish box or remote fixed, or even buy one of those new fangled small dishes.

So many choices. Maybe we'll wait another entire year -- but: so many choices.

Now, here's the odd thing. I never watch TV in the daytime anymore -- not since I re-upped my commitment to the internet when I started writing this journal online. One thing has led to another, and I have many many things to do online, and some of those things even pay the bills.

So -- the TV is actually, hardly ever turned on. Except for today. It had to be tuned and tested and one thing led to another and suddenly, at 3:00 p.m. I found myself on the couch directly across from Oprah, whom I haven't seen for ages. And one of my favorite New Age writers was on her show today, and so I sat for a spell and listened and watched and vegged in the middle of the day.

Her guest was the writer Gary Zukav, author of the hugely successful Seat of the Soul and the equally impressive Dancing Wu Li Masters. I think both books should be on everyone's shelves, and I've loved them both. In fact, I've read Seat of the Soul twice and I may read it again. It's very uplifting.

Here's the thing. Zukav is a journalist and an English major and in Dancing, he set out to try to make the new physics understandable to his fellow Liberal Arts readers. He asked many scientists to read and review his text. They did. Therefore, when you buy the book, you get a nice, dense, meaty read with lots and lots of footnotes and end notes. You can trust that level of scholarship, and in the bargain, you can really learn a little about the almost mystically fascinating world of particle physics.

I was very surprised, therefore, when I picked up Seat of the Soul for the first time. Here was a very different book. No footnotes, no collaboration with other scientists and writers; no documentation at all. Plus, big wide margins and loosely leaded text -- it looked like a book he'd dashed off in a few spare moments.

And yet, it has a certain pull and a calmness and ... and a sense that it was written from the heart instead of the brain. It's a book that gives you a feeling of hope, and what could be more wonderful than that? It asks you to think about your purpose in life. We, each of us, have one. You figure out what yours is by ... thinking with your heart instead of your brain.

Yeah -- that sounds pretty stupid. But it's practical. If you think back on the day just passed and you think about which tasks or actions or moments gave you a lifting sense of joy and which ones didn't, you can begin to separate out the black beads from the white beads so that you can make your own design.

Every day has those moments that feel almost pearlescent in their perfection -- those moments when you are. Being. Who you are. Usually, they seem small and insignificant to the world looking over your shoulder, but you know when you hold one of them for the moment, in your palm.

I really believe those moments are the best prayer we can say. I think those moments light the universe. I don't think they are accidental or inconsequential. I needed that reminder today, and I have to smile at the long string of connected causes that effected my presence in front of the TV to hear Zukav talk about his book.

I'm so glad, sometimes, that I'm not in charge here.