Adventures at Rasa Ranch #145

[Guest guest]

12/05/03

 

I think you have to be "in the mood," if you want to shop at Kmart.

If you're not in the mood, it can definitely be a nightmare. At

least that's my experience. I am not "in the mood" often, and so I

hardly ever enter the place. The last time I was there, when I made

a return I was given credit at the store rather than cash, and

apparently the credit was going to expire at some point. So the

other day when I was in town with the kids, that day we went to

Movieland, I noticed we were right next door to Kmart and I found, to

my surprise, that I was "in the mood."

 

The whole fluorescent-white store shown bright in holiday style. Old,

familiar Christmas tunes could be heard in every aisle and there were

lights, wreaths and ribbons everywhere your eyes could see. I

started to charge after the one item I was seeking like someone on a

brave and dangerous mission where time was of the essence. But then,

there were the kids. Wide-eyed and in slow-mo, they moved their heads

from side to side just like the automated Santas, angels and elves

that surrounded them. I had to give up my mission because it would

have been painful not to.

 

And that's when something came over me. Or into me. Or through me.

It was perfect peace. It was perfect peace that had nothing to do

with any one or any thing. This peace had nothing to do with me,

whatsoever. I knew in that moment the joy of beingness. Not the joy

*because* of anything, but the joy just *because*. I knew, in that

moment, the privilege it was to simply be. I knew that I could have

been a paraplegic, that I could have been deaf or blind or both, or

all three, and that this joy that was present could be experienced

one-hundred percent AS MYSELF, regardless of the state of the body.

 

I don't exactly recall what happened next, but I do remember a crinkly

bag being handed to me. I remember saying "thanks" and then stepping

onto the black pad in front of the glass door, hearing it hiss as it

swung forward all by itself, and I remember being grateful for that

because right then I had been carrying the baby and the bag with one

arm and had been holding onto Ananda's hand with the other.