Case in point: For several days I’ve been thinking about a comfortable wicker armchair for my front porch to supplement the dining table and chairs I’ve had out there for months. Rather than sitting at a table to do my morning routine (breakfast, coffee, journaling, meditating, facebooking), I would prefer to be cross legged in a roomy wicker armchair.
The idea came from observing the goings on during my evening walk with my doggie, where we pass a spectacular front porch along the bayou where I often see, through the privacy of the shrubbery, young women sitting in oversized wicker chairs with their laptops, being productive, enjoying the outdoors, while still being at home.
It’s not often I feel envy, but this scene brings it. So after a few years of this, I finally said to myself: Hey, I need an oversized wicker chair for my porch. Duh! This is what I failed to realize earlier in life: What I love, loves me. Because my early orientation was to shove down my inconvenient desires with food, and later drugs and alcohol, I can lose track of myself, and have knee-jerk denial of what makes me happy. In abstinence, I’m slowly coming out of that habit.
So as these thoughts of creating my own cozy nook were swirling throughout my system, another thought was running parallel, but not connecting, like two sides of a divided highway. Here’s where synapses are supposed to bridge the gap. The concurrent thought concerned my breakfast room, where I had had a vision of creating a booth-like environment. You know how you always want to have a booth at a restaurant? I wanted that feeling in my breakfast room. But when I found out that booths cost thousands of dollars and are massively heavy to move, I opted instead for two wicker settees that are light, along with a table, that kind of give me the same cozy corner feeling.
But I’ve noticed that I literally never sit there. I have many sitting options in my home, and I never choose that one. It looks sweet, but it serves little other function, except for a place to do vision boards.
So these are the parallel thoughts: 1) I crave an oversized wicker chair for my porch, and 2) I have two wicker settees in my breakfast room that I never use.
This morning, I am happy and proud to report, the two thoughts collided in a spectacular show of synapse synergy, and I had this mind-blowing thought: What if I moved one of those settees to my porch?
I can still feel the inner earthquake shaking loose my old thoughts. Because these settees are light, it took all of 90 seconds to execute the move.
And it is here I sit this morning, with a pillow in my lap and my MacBook Air on that, tapping out these words, drinking my coffee, eating my breakfast, experiencing my beloved city wake up and come to life.
I learned so much from the experience. I learned to let my envy guide me toward my own happiness. And I learned that most of the time, what I want and need is usually right in front of me, and it’s just a matter of opening my eyes, my mind and my heart. Grace is all around. It’s my job to see it.