Every breath we take, every step we make, can be filled with peace, joy and serenity.
~ Thich Nhat Hanh ~
I am not sure I am comfortable with the idea that we can have control or power over our emotions, because power and control are at odds with the concepts of peace, joy, and serenity. But what else is it that can enable a person to assertively and deliberately select emotions to experience? Of course, my thinking is based on the premise that Thich Nhat Hanh‘s quotation reflects reality. The ability to select emotions and/or states of mind one wishes to experience is open to debate. Some would say emotions cannot be controlled; they might be masked, but the experience cannot be picked. To a certain extent, I would agree with that, but having occasionally practiced embracing peace and serenity in a very deliberate way, I am certain it is possible for one’s mind to override physical experience in favor of a desired emotion or state of mind. That having been said, my experiences in that realm is admittedly limited and has been—and continues to be—filled with potholes and starving alligators. Practice. It takes practice. And practice takes patience. And there’s the rub for me; I am impatient in so many ways. More than once, I have become annoyed— while reading an especially gripping book—that I will have to wade through the remaining pages to get the full storying that is being told. Impatience and serenity live in difference palaces, one filled with knick-knacks that share nothing in common, the other almost barren in its stark beauty.
In just moments, I will leave for my early appointment with my family doctor’s APRN. It’s just a follow-up to confirm that the 2-weeks of exhaustion and 2 courses of antibiotics have left me, finally, moderately alert and reasonably healthy. I am in the mood for a Central Texas style sausage kolache; a chunk of coarse-ground, heavily peppered meat and a slice of jalapeño around which a piece of dough has been wrapped and then baked. Alas, I do not know of any reasonably accessible sources for that longed-for breakfast. I would have to drive six or eight hours to find one. Espresso, instead, I guess. Peace, joy, and serenity can be found in certain kolaches and in tiny cups filled with frothy foam atop deeply rich and strong espresso. I think so, anyway.
Off into the day. I am wearing gym pants that will not stay up if I put even a penny in a pocket, so I’ll have to grab my man-purse and fill it with keys, phone, wallet, pocket knife, writing pad, and pen.