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Have you ever had an eerie feeling that you canít quite seem to put your finger on or define? More specifically, a feeling of general discomfort, even anxiety in the sense that itís unfounded? I did on Friday - and the feeling lasted just about all day. Anxiety isnít a feeling I wish to walk through life with, so I started asking myself why I could be feeling that way.
Although I wasnít able to come up with any valid reasons for what I was feeling, I did have an idea that I wouldnít have expected. I had a sense that something was going to change. I didnít know what, how or when, but I felt that something was going to be different and there was nothing I could to change that. With that thought, I went about my day as normally as I know how.
It was a beautiful sunny day, full of things to accomplish. By late afternoon, just about everything that needed to be done was complete, yet it was too early to feel that ďdone for the dayĒ feeling. Although it could have been nice, there was another obligation that needed attention, then the day was done.
In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, morning became late afternoon and twilight crept from one end of the sky to the other. As the car I was being driven in zig zagged down the highway with the top down allowed for a view that often eludes my senses, as Iím usually the driver. It was really nice to let go and simply go with the flow.
I love twilight. I adore witnessing the illumination of daylight dimming, eventually to be swallowed by the nighttime sky. There is something special about that space between daylight and night life that often reminds me of what it was to be a child waiting in anticipation for something special to happen.
Twilight on Friday was somehow different though. The sense of heaviness and unease I had been feeling earlier in the day returned once again. As waves of tightness sent riveting sensations through my being - again, I became rational. What was I doing? Why was this happening? Drawing mental blanks, the desire for salvation tugged me into a place of choice. Hold on, or surrender?
Without quite realizing what I was holding onto, or what I was to surrender to, I chose the later. To mentally let go and embrace the current moment. To embrace one of the eeriest (and longest) twilight zones I can recall. To let go of any desire to control anything, to accept my powerlessness and just go along for the ride on a highway with a destination to a place called uncertainty. All I had to do was stop fighting and I would feel better.
What exactly I was fighting was a bit confusing to me at first. There was no enemy I could see. I wasnít under attack and there was no imminent danger I was aware of. What I was fighting, however, was a feeling I didnít want to feel. Itís a feeling with many names that can manifest in people, places and things - but its still a feeling. I was at the core - there were no people, places or things - it was just the feeling.
As we were able to finish the last chore of the day and head towards home, the last shreds of twilight were still eerily holding on. The difference was that I had let go. I was a speck of dust, blowing in the wind, suspended by forces far greater than I could even conceive, so what good would fighting do? With an elevated mood, a sense of accomplishment and renewed sense of security in an insecure world, I was going to be perfectly fine, wherever I landed.
Before sleep I was happy, at peace and calm. I had been able to embrace the moment - and by doing so, the world changed. I donít even remember drifting off into slumber. Nor did I have any idea how long I had been sleeping before being abruptly awakened by the mechanical noise of a...
Groggy, rubbing the essence of another world in another time (dreamland) from my eyes, a realization gripped me. The noise, itís not a dream. The house was shaking and there seemed to be light ďfrom the heavensĒ beaming down. I had to know what was causing such commotion at such an odd hour so I slid out of bed, made a beeline to the front door and turned my gaze to the skies.
A helicopter. What nerve. Didnít the pilot know it was 4:30am and the neighborhood as good as awake now? The helicopter circled and I watched - still slightly confused. Then the storm. Seemingly out of nowhere, a myriad of Police cars revved and screeched into the neighborhood, blocking all streets. Without warning, it was the apocalypse.
Lights flashing red and blue cut through the once peaceful night. The helicopter relentlessly circled, as if locked onto a target in a battle to the death. Booming voices echoed over the houses and I wondered when the hail of bullets would start? Being brought right back to the space I was (mentally) on Friday, I again had a choice.
With a few deep breaths, and thinking out loud ďNow everyoneís upĒ - I calmly strided to bed. Again, it was time to embrace the moment. It was time to realize how little control I have, in the grand scheme of life. It was time to relax and wish everyone goodwill. That again, changed the world. Within minutes of the helicopter and Police dissipating, I was again, drifting peacefully to sleep. But I wondered...We live in world that can change in an instant, well beyond what we can control. Yet, why do so many of us hold on so tight and resist (change) so much? I wonder...
About the author:
Paul Bunting enjoys sharing Alignment Science, writing and...http://www.alignmentscience.com