Lately, I let anxiety about the future creep into my thoughts – in spite of much preparation and reassurance from God that I’ll be cared for. Additionally, I was worried for my family.  It was a lot like the old saying, “The right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing.”  In this case, I consciously thought I was exercising faith and feeling serenity but actually I wasn’t watching worries build up in my subconscious until they spilled over to overwhelm that faith and my daily effectiveness.

After days of trying to exert my own mental powers and failing to change course, I decided – duh! – to ask for a priesthood blessing from my home teachers.  They patiently listened to my concerns, then proceeded to lay their hands on my head and give me inspired counsel:  I would be cared for, be physically and spiritually safe, and my family’s spiritual path was safely in His hands – I could let go and trust Him.  It felt like unseen fingers reached into my brain and rearranged my thoughts, like the direction to “correct the seasoning” at the end of many recipes.  It was gentle, deep, and very reassuring.

The next day I remembered a saying:

 “We are all bozos on the bus, so we might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.”

I looked it up and found that Wavy Gravy said it at Woodstock in 1969, then Elizabeth Lesser commented on it in her book Broken Open which is where I originally read it.  That made me think of The Muppet Movie which is on my list of favorites – goofy guys bumping along the road of life. I needed to be more like them, more childlike:

 And Jesus called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.  (Matthew 18:2-3)

To drive the point home, Heavenly Father sent the following experience.  Monday night was a lovely balmy evening and I was sitting in my living room with the windows open, reading.  I suddenly became aware of the echoing of bird song through the trees, the scent of my newly picked lilacs, and an intense recollection of being a child exploring my grandparents’ yard and the ravine beyond it.  I loved exploring the lush greenery.  There were lilies of the valley in the shade along the garage wall and masses of phlox along the edge of the yard.  The ravine hid many other treasures:  lacy ferns, dainty white anemone, and the mysterious Jack-in-the-Pulpit shyly hiding in the shade. Owls and toads lived there.

Jack-in-the-Pulpit
Courtesy Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center

This was more than a memory, I actually re-experienced being a carefree child.  Shrunk to child height, I felt the original wonder of first seeing these treasures, with their haunting fragrance, and enjoyed again my grandparents sleeping porch, listening to the owls in their towering oak trees. What a wonderful way to bring home the advice given in my blessing.  It lasted about an hour and sealed this lesson in my soul.

Now when I go out for walks, I notice the plants and birds more, and my own thoughts less.  I don’t know one iota more about the future than I did, but since I’ve done all I can to prepare, I don’t need to know. I’m too busy enjoying the present.