I've been checking out some amazing new blogs lately, interestingly, writers (professional writers) who are all in recovery of some sort. (It's odd that so many writers are in recovery, isn't it?) Anyways, recovery blogs are quite unlike anything I've ever read before. Often the people, having newly stepped out of addiction, view the ordinary world with an almost transcendent perspective - noticing details and nuances, that well I for one, often miss.

One of the recurring themes that's been leaping off the page at me, is 'staying present'. You know, the guru like practice of staying in the 'now'? (which incidentally, reminds me of my cousin Jim, who when I was teenager, went to India & changed his name to Dyano Pragyano. Which was very strange. But I imagine it had at least a little to do with some very potent weed...but sorry, I'm digressing from the 'now'...)

I generally try to pay attention to things that leap out at me. Dogs, spiders, irritating concepts, cuz well, it can be dangerous not to. And I could use a little staying in the now as a practice. My mind is constantly leaping, racing and running after itself like a directionally challenged canine in pursuit of it's own tail. So just for today - just for the fun of it, I grabbed the dog by the tail - and went out on my grocery run with 'staying present' in mind.

'This'll be easy!' I mused in my driveway.

Only to be assaulted by my first encounter with staying present, sweat. I swear, one hundred and fifty degrees in friggin April! In my husband's non air conditioned car with the sour aroma of last nite's left over chili from the church Hoe Down (hoe down...that could be a very tasteless joke if one was inclined) in an unwashed pot on the passenger seat beside me - but hey, he won third place in the chili contest...

In the Superstore parking lot, I was captured by a brilliant flash of iridescent colour in an east indian woman's sari. The orange and yellow shifting neurotically in the sun the way colours do in...fish skin! Definitely not anticipating staying present with fish skin.

I drove home, acutely aware of being $50 broker and with the nasty tingle of a cold sore developing on my lower lip.

Back in my driveway, a blue jay was hopping in the over grown grass by my garden trellis. He suddenly shot straight upwards, a rocket launching to the highest peak. Amazing aerodynamics. And lifted his perky blue tail and dropped a stream of runny white shit down the side of the brown trellis and in to the grass.

I unpacked my groceries, made an avocado and cream cheese sandwich and headed to the deck. Where I must add, I'd just set out my lawn furniture for the first time this year. It was glorious, the summer sun, feet on the table, light breeze - when I suddenly became aware that the only redeeming factor amidst the inherent mushy, 'sticking to the roof of my mouth' sensation of the cream cheese & avocado sandwich was the generous measure of salt...

So I flipped myself out of the present, and back to reality. Nothing is worth ruining a good avocado and cream cheese sandwich over.

This is definitely going to take some practice.