An Invitation to Harmony

On my altar stands an auspicious statue of Buddha and in his left hand I've placed a small card that reads a single word: HARMONY. Standing upright, and with a poised expression on his face, he reminds me of a still- standing driver in the middle of a crowded airport, with a single-worded sign bearing the name of he or she for whom he waits.

"HARMONY"

As of late, meaning the last few years, my life  has not always been harmonious. I have definitely had lot's of fun and met some interesting people.  I've taken drugs celebrating the bastardization of two otherwise entirely innocent words: "party and play." And, as if somehow handed over by the Enlightened One himself, I've ingested drugs which promised and provided, though very briefly, ecstasy.

 But have I had  harmony in my life? Not so much.

I had that unexpected date with South Salt Lake Police and a child's school expulsion for drug use and that weird fling with the guy who said "I think I love you, now I just gotta get to know you" . And, in effort to somehow restore balance, there were the 12-step meetings, band-aid relationships, mega doses of vitamins and copious amounts of chocolate. But--and I'm sure you know what's coming here--of harmony, there wasn't much.

Yet, strangely, through all that, Buddha has remained, unscathed, holding a small invitation to a place that often felt worlds away: HARMONY.

What lesson is there for me from a still-standing statue holding a sign? Buddha said that he taught the Dharma, and once in a while he used words to do it. Surrounded at times by chaos, his silent stillness reminds me that harmony is not a place, but, rather a condition and to BE in a harmonious state I ought to stop looking for it. The act of looking for something, whether my house keys or state of well-being, is always hindered by knowledge that I don't have it. In one of my favorite episodes of Family Guy, Peter put a Twinkie on the end of a string, tied to stick which kept it just out of Chris's reach. The pursuit of said Twinkie kept the poor running, arms flailing, in circles. That's often how I have felt searching for a state of harmony placed just out of arms reach.

Thankfully, I'm starting to see things differently.Recently I had tea with a good friend who became the unsuspecting recipient of a lamentation about my daughter. I felt deeply troubled because she had made choices I didn't agree with. Sensing my upset, my friend put her hand on my arm, and, interrupting my  monologue asked "removing yourself from both past and future, what really is the problem?" It was obvious. There was none.Viewing the situation from the present moment, rather than chasing the resolution (that "Twinkie" suspended from a string) driven by fear, created a shift in perspective. I found a bit of harmony when confronted with fear regarding the well-being of my child, fears that, over the years, I had used to justify abusive self-criticism, obsession over things I could not control, and, eventually, drug use.

Shifting my perspective toward recovery allows me to step into sobriety--and serenity--one day at a time. Wanting that ever elusive cure, the ability to say I'm all healed up from my addiction, is overwhelming enough to reproduce similar anxieties to those described above. I'm clean and sober today; yesterday resides only in short-term memory and tomorrow only in my imagination.

My life is different today. There is a stronger sense of balance between my inner experience and the external environment. I appreciate chaos because it makes the stepping away from it much more fun. Today, harmony   doesn't feel like a place to arrive at, rather, just a way to make the journey a meaningful one.