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Sustain or Transform?

Jill Brocklehurst

Author: Jill Brocklehurst

Article:

Monday morning the alarm goes off. Get up, cross the hall for the usual relief, working my way into the day. Call out at the kids to get up, look in the mirror and wonder what to do with the hair.

Into the kitchen, find bowls, pull out the cereal and milk. Break open the bread and produce some sandwiches. Last nights dishes, clean the counter, kiss and morning exchanges. Kids to the bus followed by husband, back to the mirror, what about the hair?

Light coat today, pack the umbrella just in case, car keys, off to work, lunch, home, dinner, bath, book, bed. Tuesday morning the alarm goes off.

Bathroom, magazine survey; "Quality of life, inner voice, personal gifts…” hear kids fighting over the milk, cereal, where is the purse? Keys, work, home, dinner, kisses, bed. Can’t sleep. Inner voice … ?

Alarm goes off, hump day, kids after school activities, husband out of town, fast food, home late, long bath, suds, magazine, "What if there is more to life?” Gotta be kidding! No time. Stupid article. Too busy. Need the money. What a crock.

Thursday, kid at bed side, no alarm, late for the bus, spilt milk, tears, rushing, tense. Work, bathroom break, look in mirror OMG! Hair a mess, blurred mascara. Sit down, same magazine, same article. Breathe. "Suppose life could be different, what would you choose?” Like there are choices. "Take time for you today.” Upset stomach, going to be sick … gotta go home.

Friday morning, in bed, high fever, zombie really. Children worried, husband concerned, warm tea, colourful pictures from art class at school, "For you Mummy.” Magazine to read, SAME MAGAZINE!

"A man found out he had terminal cancer. He was a doctor. And knew about dying, and he didn’t want to make his family and friends suffer through that with him. So he kept his secret. And died. Everybody said how brave he was to bear his suffering in silence and not tell everybody, and so on and so forth. But privately his family and friends said how angry they were that he didn’t need them, didn’t trust their strength. And it hurt that he didn’t say good-bye.

He hid too well.

"Getting found would have kept him in the game. Hide-and-seek, grown-up style.”

Read magazine cover to cover.

Saturday 3 AM, house asleep, alone in the dark. Feeling better, way better. Perhaps there is another way, maybe.

Up early, family pancake breakfast, clean up, phone rings.

"Hi Stranger! Remember that place I’ve been bugging you to check out with me? Well, I read they are having a new-comers day and I am chicken to go on my own so will you come with me? Please?

Beautiful Saturday, happy family, support and love. Sunday long morning sleep, phone rings.

"Ok, I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up.”

Nervous tension, smile, lots of smiles. Large room, lots of smiling people. Escape? Too late. Sit in back, want to hide. Music, tears. What’s with the tears? Message, OMG it’s about me. Music tears, running mascara.

"What if life could be different? As a society we sustain our life by doing the same thing over and over and inside something begins to rot. We don’t know what that inside thing could be. We maintain airs, hold a job, pay rent/mortgage, happy marriage, nice home, kids in all the right programs. Day after day we move through the motions preserving a life we were told will bring happiness and yet something is rotting inside.”

Rotting?

Everyone leaving, more smiles, hugging, oh God I don’t want to hug. Shake hands, smiles.

"Wow, great hair. Where did you get your cut? We look forward to seeing you again. Can we count on you to come next week?”

"Yes.” I said Yes.

Jill Brocklehurst, Pastor

Island Centre for Positive Living

Teaching Science of Mind® in

Comox Valley, Campbell River

and on-line video.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 26th, 2008 at 10:14 pm and is filed under SPIRIT. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Synergy Magazine: Vancouver Island, BC, Canada