Yesterday was an interesting day. A cancelled treatment left me without the expected income and after being pretty much cleaned out by the rent payment a few days ago I was left with only a few dollars in my pocket and the low fuel light on in my car.
Thankfully a babysitting night at my neighbors still had small credit standing and something in me demanded I call that in despite misgivings that it was already dark and I didn’t really want to trouble her at that time.
But I felt strongly I needed to get gas and chocolate, presto! that it could not wait until the next morning. The gas station was open until ten but anything that actually deserved the name ‘chocolate’ would have to be procured from the health food store that was about to be closing at nine.
I love texting . . .It’s so wonderfully un-intrusive . . . People can pick it up and respond at their leisure. Sometimes though, and thankfully enough, this time, too, it’s practically instant. I sent my message off, received the money almost immediately and so five minutes before closing time I was at the health store’s bulk bin filling a little bag with organic dark chocolate chips. Then off to the gas station for a couple of gallons of their finest. Don’t forget a can of cat food because, God forbid, my addicted kitty would have to eat the good clean stuff I want him to have instead of his favorite junk food.
Once back home I realize how exhausted I was so I got my tired feet into a foot bath and put on a movie, eating chocolate. The world was alright by me.
It was around 11, foot bath finished and another episode of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell just starting when suddenly my phone burred.
A text . . . hm . . . at this time? Who could that be?
Ah, friend Bob. ‘Are you awake?’
‘Yes, what’s up?’
‘Ran out of gas in town, by the coffee shop.’
‘On my way.’
Five minutes later I picked him up in town and took him home where his landlord had a full can of gas he could borrow.
As I waited for him to go get the can out of the barn I realized why I absolutely had to get gas (and chocolate) earlier. I wouldn’t have had enough to get back myself home without it!
Okay . . . cue for chocolate then!
‘Here,’ I said when he came back with the gas can. ‘Have some of these . . . little treat after the excitement of the day . . .’
I have never felt comfortable with the talk and judgement about STS (service to self) and STO (service to others) in recent years. STS is supposedly bad, while STO, the altruistic version, is the ‘good choice’. But even during my time living in a spiritual community where this question was asked constantly I felt there was something wrong with it.
Perhaps because the Zen guys are right . . . perhaps because ‘other’ is a construct of duality, of 3D, the paradigm we are in the process of moving beyond.
Perhaps now the old teaching of ‘What you do for the lowliest of your brothers you are doing onto me’ is coming into its own as we leave separation behind and step into the Knowing of Oneness where ‘You’ and ‘I’ are just facets of the same radiant Diamond of Creation.
By the way, all of the guidance was wonderful and spot on but I didn’t get it right with the cat.
When I got home I found that there were still two cans of his favorite food in the cupboard. For some reason I can’t shake the thought that he has established his own private ‘Feed Me’ guidance channel in my mind . . .