Living Happiness

He did not arrive at this conclusion by the decent process of quiet, logical deduction, nor yet by the blinding flash of glorious intuition, but by the shoddy, untidy process halfway between the two by which one usually gets to know things. ~Margery Allingham

Once upon a time, Intuition had a partner.  She filled her days in his company, and together they made magic.

Everywhere they went, people commented on them and what a remarkable couple they were.  They became the most popular guests at dinner parties, the most sought after for society events.  Their social calendar was full.  And why not?  Everyone wanted to be paid a visit.  Everyone wanted to be where They were.  Everyone, deep down, just wanted to be them – that’s how glamorous they were.

But then one day, Intuition and her partner had a falling out.  Over what, no one is quite sure.  But it seems Intuition wanted to do things one way and her partner, another.  And for the first time, their often-reconcilable disagreements did not end in a compromise.  Neither one would give and inch and, just like that, the fabric of their relationship was torn.

Intuition decided to go it alone and so, therefore, did her partner.  Being the more vibrant of the two, Intuition, of course, got the lion’s share of the sympathy and remained a favorite at many of the dinner parties and weekend soirees they two used to frequent together.

Her partner, Reason, however, did not fare so well and was slowly sidelined into only brief appearances at occasional luncheons, talks, and teas.  Only rarely now did any of their old friends contact him, and when they did it was usually on the sly, secretly, when no one was looking … lest any of Intuition’s friends find out and fill her in.

Time wore on as it does in situations like these.  Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and before long hardly anyone could remember anymore a time when Reason and Intuition had been partners or – more than this – lovers of the highest order.

Friends of either one knew only the “now.”  And since, to their minds, their friends’ permanent state of spinster- (or bachelorhood, as the case may be) had always been the given state of things, they could have no way of knowing the playful, boyish side of Reason that Intuition had once never failed to bring out in him.  Nor could they understand the focused, confident face Intuition used to present to the world when, reassured and calmed by Reason’s steadying hand at her elbow (or in the small of her back), they entered a room together.

However, in a few (very few) hidden places around the world, there are still some people who know and remember a time when Reason and Intuition were one.  These are their oldest friends, the ones who couldn’t believe the split when it happened.  And as they’ve watched the two try to go it alone, they’ve secretly hoped for and awaited the day when it will finally occur to them again – Intuition and Reason – that they are not fully themselves without the other.  These friends know that Reason and Intuition’s place is right by each other’s side.

What about you?

Do you believe that Intuition and Reason can be reconciled?

Or are their differences irreconcilable?

Your comments are welcome, as always.

We know the truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart.
~Blaise Pascal

Namaste,

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It seemed to be a necessary ritual that he should prepare himself for sleep by meditating under the solemnity of the night sky… a mysterious transaction between the infinity of the soul and the infinity of the universe. ~Victor Hugo

I live with a man who is a creature of habit. Each day he arises and pours himself a glass of water. He sits at the kitchen table, slowly sipping and waking up. Then it’s time for breakfast. Breakfast is a treat: eggs with sun-dried tomatoes, spinach, and feta. This is followed by a mug of tea.

And so the day goes.

I know I have my rituals, too. I wake up each morning and turn on the computer in the spare room (it takes ten minutes to boot). I walk down the hallway and into our front rooms and open the house: swing back shutters, secure windows, let the light in. As I’m doing this, the little brown kitty I’ve been feeding stands up and stretches and waits for me on the back welcome mat. I turn on the kettle and then pour some cat food in a little tin. I walk her out to the edge of the yard to where her dish is waiting … along with the two other cats who’ve figured out morning time is feeding time. I leave them to it and come inside and steep my tea – sometimes English breakfast, sometimes rose peach – then I sit and sip and slowly wake up too.

I am a big fan of rituals. I think of them as the pegs I can hang my thoughts and ideas on, the markers for my beliefs. Sometimes they represent something greater than me – a remembering of something, even a mirroring of what I would like to be. Other times they are simply comfort, a familiar thing I can wrap around me when the world seems cold.

In my own way, I feel they connect me to eternity.

It can be easy, though, for our rituals to take the place of our gods, for our moments of eternity to be reduced to finite markers of what we have or want to achieve. When this happens, rituals are no longer the infinity of the soul interacting with the infinity of the universe.

How do you honor ritual in your life?

How do you allow your soul to regularly interact with infinity?

Your comments today are welcome.

Namaste and peace,

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