Remember

I am watching the trees sway back and forth in the strong wind through the window behind my computer. Dark clouds loom in the sky. I am hoping it will rain so I won't have to water my lawn. I just remembered that I watered it this morning. I feel relieved about not having to water and scared that I have been forgetting so much lately. Today I left my daytimer at my chiropractor/healer's office and had to make another trip there to pick it up. I was grateful that his office manager called me and that it was close enough to go get it before she left the office for the weekend. It made me aware of how much I depend on that book and how lost I am without it. The other night I went to the PSYCH-K practice group and forgot where I parked my car. I remembered parking it on the other side of the street and in the opposite direction from where it was and because it was dark it took me a while to find it. Once I get scared that I've lost something it is harder to think clearly about where it might be. In my house I make myself stop running around urgently searching and breathe deeply and quietly and picture or sense or ask where I saw it last. Usually I get a clear answer and go there and find what I am looking for. I may even have heard to go look where it is in the midst of my urgent search and ignored it. When I am worried or scared or anxious my breath becomes shallow and choppy. Shallow and choppy breath means less oxygen to the brain. No wonder it is hard to think clearly
under stress. So when I forget things I wonder what is normal aging and what is more than that? That scares me even more. As I've said before my mother has Alzheimer's.
Last night I was reading a story in my favorite magazine, The Sun, www.thesunmagazine.org about a woman whose mother had Alzeimer's and came to live with her family for the summer. It was called Koans from my Mother. The author saved her sanity by laughing to herself about the bizarre things her mother said and imagining them as zen koans similar to the zen koan of, "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" Koans are questions given to some zen students by their teachers to jar their minds out of the ordinary ruts and open to greater consciousness. In the story her mother would say something like, "I've known your sister Sue all my life why don't I know her mother?" The story was about accepting what is with her mother's process and not trying to correct her reality. When I am with my Mom that's what I do. I don't try to change her or fix her or get her to see things my way. I don't try to get her to see "reality" as I experience it. I spend time with her and listen and love her and go along with what she is talking about. I figure her reality is just as important as mine. Several visits ago she was telling me about this place she visits where she has a whole different life than the one she has now. She lives in a small town and knows everyone and has lots of friends and rewarding work. Who knows if this is a mixture of her past and a dream? Who cares?
It seems more important to be with my Mom where she is and to love her for that. She is a great teacher for me about being in the present because the present is all she has.
Is there someone in your life who has come to you as a teacher about accepting what is? You don't have to like it? You don't have to let go of wanting things to be different. You just have to accept that things are as they are.
Maybe it's just as true of ourselves as with others. That's a good thing to remember.