by Noelle Sterne
Fixing the salad for any day’s dinner, turning from counter to sink, my Time stopped for a moment.
Something, in bare recognition, broke into my day-babbling thoughts. Squinting, I knew it, long hidden but there, like old furrowed photos in the back of a drawer.
It spoke as I heard, a strong, subtle thread still connected from then to right now:
Who would have thought I’d be here, in this time and this place and this life? Who would have known or predicted or seen that I’d reach here and now in this way?
For a Small Mindful Moment, Something Broke Through
And just for a moment, I saw through this life and making the salad. For a small, fragile moment, something much older broke through the unquestioned surface that makes up this life. I could glimpse, for a moment, like the barely discernible trail of a fawn through the woods, the way traveled.
And in this same moment Time shattered, its meaning dissolving in slivers around.
I saw in this moment what sharp, cutting edges we make of our lives, the damage we breed by our lauding and cursing, the illness we spread by our grading of status or mud.
Clearer than glass, I saw through this time and this life. Slicing tomatoes or signing decrees, wrapping garbage or writing books—the threads are all different; the moment is one and the Whole.
And in this same moment, I was freed of my bindings of judgments and envies, freed of my waste box of striving and hope, and breathing a peace unfamiliar.
In One Mindful Moment, I Was There
I was there, back behind, opening the cupboard for oil for the salad, taking the bottle, loosening the cap. I was watching my self in the reflex of movements, unwinding my thread.
And I found, in surprise, that the I who was watching was smiling—a parent, in fondness and awe.
I saw, in this moment, that the steps must be taken in the child’s own time. To rush does not hasten the learning. To force does not quicken the pace.
In this same moment, in flitting half-shadows, I tasted a sadness, deeper than dreams born in childhood, older than age. I glimpsed for an instant the length of my thread winding down through the times, and the seemingly endlessly tangled long pathway ahead.
Then I sighed, back behind, washing the lettuce, tearing the greens. I stared at the bowl, with its plans and impatience, its joys and its terrors, its visions and dark disappointments. I sighed at the yearnings and pain of the thread.
But something compelled me to look way beyond, and my sigh in that moment breathed Ah, like the fawn peering out of the woods to a field.
And in that same moment, I saw how we loosen our knots by just doing the movements before us. Doing our movements, more and more open, trusting our nature, our thread leads us out, like the fawn from the woods, into light.
It’s Time once again. I look at my salad, and the long, golden voice echoes sure:
Who would have thought I’d be here, in this time, and this place, and this life?
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To Experience Your Own “Fixing the Salad” Moment
If you would like to experience your own feelings like Fixing the Salad, some suggestions:
- Take several deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
- Be here now, in this moment, whatever you’re doing—cutting carrots, folding laundry, gazing into your baby’s eyes.
- Tell your mind to stop churning. Nothing is more important than your presence here—now.
- Verbalize what you are seeing and feeling. This will help you stay grounded and centered in the moment.
- If you hear messages in your mind, listen. Write them down if you wish. They have appeared to help and enlighten you.
- Wherever you are, know you are now in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. Trust this.
- You can come back to this moment any time. Simply focus on what is in front of you. Breathe. Enjoy.
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Note: Read Noelle’s other post on LEA, “Angel in the Mall.”
Author, editor, writing coach, workshop leader, and academic mentor and nag, Noelle Sterne has published over 700 stories, essays, writing craft articles, spiritual pieces, and occasional poems in literary and academic print and online venues.
Eons ago, she published a children’s book of original dinosaur riddles (HarperCollins), in print for 18 years. More recently, her handbook to assist doctoral candidates is based on my professional academic practice (PhD, Columbia University): Challenges in Writing Your Dissertation: Coping with the Emotional, Interpersonal, and Psychological Struggles (Rowman & Littlefield Education, 2015).
In her spiritual self-help book, Trust Your Life: Forgive Yourself and Go After Your Dreams (Unity Books, 2011), she draws examples from her academic consulting and other aspects of life to support readers in reaching their lifelong yearnings. Continuing with her own, she is draft-deep in her third novel, with more clogging her files.
For more information on Noelle and her work, please see her website.