postcards from nowhere

Greetings!

It was a beautiful day on Sunday.  In a fit of spring fever delirium, 
I decided to tackle the project of cleaning out the garage and washing 
the car.  And I'm glad I did, because the process reminded me of 
something important that I keep forgetting.

It struck me while I was soaping up the car.  I found myself feeling 
delighted by the robust redness of the color on the hood, and enjoying 
the gliding of the cloth over the smooth surface of the paint.  I fell 
in love with my car all over again.  And so once more I was reminded 
about the magic of attention.  

I don't have this experience when I drive through the car wash.  When 
I drive through the car wash, I usually sit there watching the clock, 
or make a few notes in my daytimer.  One thing I definitely do not 
do is pay any attention to my car.  

It remains in the background, while other things in the foreground 
command my attention.  And after a while, the background simply fades 
out and is forgotten. Taken for granted, as we sometimes say.

I think my mom already knew all about the magic of attention when we 
were kids.  She had a reputation as the neighborhood green thumb. 
(still does, in fact)  Incredible orchids and African violets were 
constantly in bloom in our very non-rainforest-ish living room window 
in suburban Chicago.  She told us that they grew so well because she 
talked to them.  

Silhouetted against the early morning light, her steaming mug of coffee 
in her hand, she would slowly move from plant to plant, noticing each 
one, appreciating it, gently removing any dead leaves.  I thought the 
plants thrived on the extra carbon dioxide they received from her 
exhalations. (charming, isn't it, the ignorance of a know-it-all youth!)  

But now I know that the magic was in the love and attention she gave to 
her green babies.  It was just as nourishing as the love and attention 
she gave to her pink babies. (of the human persuasion)

And I see it all over the place.  Something magical happens in my house 
when I clean it, and it cannot be explained by the simple removal of 
dirt and dust.  My office seems to hum after I've filed everything 
away and cleared the top of my desk.  My body sings after I've danced 
or stretched or in some other way given it my nurturing attention.  
And it probably goes without saying that people around me also seem 
to blossom when bathed in the light of caring and conscious acknowledgment.

Could it be this same principle at work when folks improve their health 
by meditation or stress-reduction techniques?  Does it help explain why 
a placebo is quite often as effective as any other intervention?  
Or why any diet works for a while?  

Maybe anything that helps us to focus our loving attention on our bodies 
leads to healing ... anything that brings our awareness of our bodies 
to the foreground instead of languishing away in the background.

Why is this?  I'm not sure.  But the closest explanation I've seen 
comes from the art of Feng Shui.  My personal interpretation of it 
is this:  by giving your loving attention you are sharing your life 
force, or chi, and magnifying the inherent chi of that which you focus 
upon.  Sort of how wave forms amplify each other when in close proximity.
It's a win-win, because both you and the object of your attention feel 
better.

I've noticed that this effect is even more profound when I slow myself 
down.  Years ago I read a book that I think was called Sigo Therapy, 
and the basic premise was that you could completely change everything 
in your life simply by decreasing the pace of your activity level.  
And it's true!  

Try it sometime.  Cook dinner at half speed.  You'll find yourself 
actually smelling the tomatoes as you slice them.  Drive slower and 
you'll notice the scenery.  Walk slower through the office and you'll 
notice that there are people sitting in those other cubicles.

Here's an interesting image that just popped into my warped mind:  
Picture yourself as a fertilizer spreader.  The faster you move, 
the thinner you are spreading your chi onto the people and things 
around you.  By slowing down, you increase the concentration of your 
attention and energy, thus offering more nourishment.  And this is 
how you grow a happy environment in which to live!  (ah, so simple!)

So anyway, if there's a part of your life that is languishing away 
in the background, it might be fun to try bringing it out and 
polishing it.  Let me know what happens ...

warm regards,

karen