"I live a little bit on the seat of my pants, I try to be alert and available. I try to be available for life to happen to me. We’re in this life, and if you’re not available, the sort of ordinary time goes past and you didn’t live it. But if you’re available, life gets huge. You’re really living it."
— Bill Murray
I sort of fell down my cellar stairs. Almost. I thought I could step backward onto the landing but I was further up than I thought. I was suspended in the air, then I hit the doorframe and the landing sort of all at once. I'm fine. Really! But my first thought, after some impressive swearing, was that for the millisecond I was airborn all of my agendas, big and small, were gone. I can't remember the last time I got so discombobulated that it knocked my brainspace free - free of packing a healthy lunch, free of "Did I miss garbage night?" free of "What will I sew next?" free of the tiny pushing pushing pushings that I do to try to make every day a good day. It was like when the electricity goes out and the sweet round silence of no-machines envelopes you. It's so rich. There is such relief. I guess it is surrender.
So my resolution is to have a mini-surrender to each day. Not in a cooing blissful vapid way. In a ... I don't know, respectful way? Yes respectful. In an available way. I've decided that each day has a shape it wants to take. I'll show up and do what that day wants, and that will be enough. That's my resolution. Heck, it might even get huge.
