Nothing To Do

Nothing To Do

For three nights in a row an odd dream recurs, in which I am purchasing electrical extension cords from a grocery store. These are very special cords with protective fuses built in as a safety device - high tech and expensive. But when I get the cords back home, they don’t WORK! I feel very distressed and dismayed about this.

So this morning I woke up with that dream going on again. “Good grief,” I thought. “Three nights the same dream? It must be a message!”


The mind was nearly hyperventilating with excitement. “Here’s what the dream could mean – I’m trying to connect things in my life and trying to make sure I am safe and protected in the process, and none of it is working!”


But before my wonderful analysis was even fully articulated a great “yawn” arose from some deeper place inside. “Give it a rest,” this place says, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Never have, actually.”

Oh well. By then various activities that need to be accomplished this Saturday morning have come to mind. I should get up and get started, I think.

But the place inside has other priorities. “Can you feel that?” it asks.


I notice a distinctly comfortable sensation in my body. The body does NOT want to move. It is releasing, letting go. The body says there is nothing to do this Saturday morning. There is only NOW, and that DOESN’T need doing.



“You know all that uncertainty in your life? All those problems you can’t seem to solve?” the place asks, a bit tongue in cheek.

I sure DO remember them! Whoa – thanks for reminding me!

But before I can get too involved with reminiscing, the place continues: “Well, here’s what to do with that uncertainty,” it says. And I feel the body releasing more, relaxing and letting go in earnest, as though waves of heat were radiating from it.

I begin to get the message after all. Trying to connect everything is futile.

Just . . . let it go.

After a while something happens and I find myself in the shower. For the first time ever, apparently.


It is amazing to notice how wet skin tingles against cold air. And how the soles of the feet connect with whatever is beneath them – like antennas reaching down toward mother earth for energy, not merely stilts to stand on.


After the shower I look in the mirror and notice two very sad eyes staring back. I gather courage – not much of a public speaker, really – and manage a few words.

“No plans for today,” I say. “Whatever we need, that’s what we’ll do. Just be together and be together. It’s OK. After all, we’ve already had some insights today, right? And they were . . .”


But none of those amazing thoughts come to mind. They seem to have vanished into the vast nothingness from which they came.

Suddenly the face in the mirror wreathes in smiles. The eyes twinkle merrily at this delightful predicament.

It is a pleasant sight. “Boy, I’d like to see THAT more often!” I say.

And maybe I will.