The Speech of a Lifetime

Well, maybe it wasn't the speech of a lifetime, but the events surrounding the speech were intense. Sunday morning I arose in good spirits. I was adequately prepared for my talk on world peace. I ate a light breakfast and took a conglomeration of vitamins. As I prepared for the hour trip to Webster, TX, I had a thought, "Something is not right and something regarding my health will happen during the service." I remembered a colleague who had a similar inner warning and she had a stroke, while speaking, during a Sunday service. I was a little shaken, but I replied back to that inner knowing that it wouldn't be life-threatening and that I would just handle it as it came. I went outside and saw my husband; he had decided to stay home. I knew he should come with me, but he wasn't dressed, there wasn't time for that, and I had to get on my way. I kissed him, told him I was feeling strange, and hopped into the driver's seat. Off I go. On the hour ride over, my thoughts became gruesome and I watched them pass, thinking that all mental activity is not pleasant and this mindset would pass. Then fear visited. "Oh, what are you doing here?" I asked with curiosity. It was like a little friend was peeping in to check on me. By the time I arrived at the church, I had indigestion. I looked for baking soda. No baking soda, no soda water. I asked members if they had any digestive enzymes and the best I could find was some Gas X, which I took.

Now it's time for the service. I start to lead the congregation in meditation and break into a sweat - I tell the congregation to rest in the stillness. I sit down and take off my jacket. It's time to go back to the podium. I know I had to get up, so I stood, came to the mike, and ended meditation. By this time I was dizzy and I knew I was going to throw up. I ran down the center isle towards the bathroom. I heave, and let out a loud fart, fortunately no spewing until I reached the restroom. I heave and fart again - great - still I'm on the center isle running for my life. I arrive and throw up in the bathroom. I didn't close the door; the bathroom was close, so everyone had a front row seat to the sounds. (I didn't think about that until later. I was oblivious to everything at this point.) I am so weak I collapse on the floor only to stand up to heave again. I feel like I am dying or close to death. Familiar reference points dissolve. Finally I finish. I'm weak, but I feel much better. I'm having chills. I rinse out my mouth and walk back into the room. Someone is volunteering to deliver the message. I say "No, I want to do it; just put a chair beside the microphone and I'll speak from a seated position." And so it came to pass I delivered a talk on world peace.

I value freedom. I seek freedom from inner shame, freedom from what others think about me, and what I make up about what others might be saying about me, and in this peaceful experience of being sick and being the center of attention, I was free. I was free to be sick, I was free from concern about the service, and free of worry from what others thought about my hightailing it out to throw up. I look back into my life and remember a time where this would have thrown me, but on Sunday, I just felt free to live in the moment, placing no judgments on what happened, and going with the flow, even if the flow was not an ideal scenario. I am free to be me in sickness and in health, and even though I have many limitations, I am thrilled about the many breakthroughs. Life's a trip and I'm along for the ride.

This is the essence of the EZosophy philosophy - let go of the struggle and pain; they rob us of life. Ease is available all the time. Even though this experience was not easy, it was easier than it could have been if it were fraught with self-judgment and perfectionism. I'm living the eight word miracle mantra, "Everything can be easy or at least easier." I hope you are living it too. Let's all be EZosophist philosophists.