Joy In A Bottle

For the last several years I have had a fascination for essential oils. I don't know why, but I have. And for the last several months, I have become even more involved with them. I have been working with over a dozen different pure therapeutic grade essential oils produced by a company called Young Living Essential Oils, founded by Dr. Gary Young, an unusual and visionary man. But one oil in particular has touched me more than the rest. It's called JOY. That's right, I like to call it, JOY IN A BOTTLE! It has the most exquisitely beautiful aroma and whenever I use it, I feel uplifted. The theory behind essential oils is that they resonate at extremely high levels and thereby can increase the energy field around us and help bring into our lives those things that we desire, whether they be abundance, peace, or a healing of some kind. Its not that the oils actually create these experiences in our lives, I think its more like they help us to be open to the incredible abundance that is already there present at every moment if only we have eyes to see. For a while now, it has been my intention to experience more joy in my life, hence my strong attraction to this oil called Joy, and I would have to say by what I have experienced just in this last week that this little oil has indeed been helping me to do just that. Two experiences come to mind, both very different, yet profoundly joyful. Here is my story. I woke up early one day this week, after it had been snowing and freezing rain most of the night to an exquisite winter wonderland outside my window. I felt an overwhelming urge to rush out and experience it, much as a small child would want to run out and play in the freshly fallen snow or a little puppy would want to envelop himself in a white blanket and then shake himself off and do it all over, again and again. I couldn't really contain myself much longer so I did just that. I put on my coat and boots and mittens, not my kid-leather gloves, but my mittens, which seemed more appropriate to the moment and rushed outside. I felt as though time had stopped just for me. I was alone in this magical place. Not a sound was to be heard, only my breath and my virgin footsteps in the pure white snow beneath my feet and the golden light of the awakening sun dancing on the icicles, glistening like diamonds. I felt intensely alive and overcome with joy. At that moment I was reminded of when I was in Montreal and my mother died. It was in the late fall and I remember sitting in the park after having just left the funeral home and watching the leaves fall off the huge maple trees. It was such a beautiful sight to see but a part of me couldn't help wondering if the trees felt sad to see all their leaves falling away. Soon they would be completely bare and it would be like a death for them just as it had been for my mother. I thought how significant it was at the time, that my mother died in the fall just as the trees were letting go of life as well. Yet today when I was out walking in the snow, in the stillness, I looked with new eyes at these trees standing proudly before me. Where once they had been completely bare, now they were each covered in white ice and I saw them in a way I was not able to before. Each tree was distinctive, unique, a masterpiece in itself, breathtakingly beautiful. They didn't feel as though they were dead any more, only different, and I thought that must be how my mother is now, not dead really, only different. I stayed in this wonderland for over an hour taking pictures of each tree. And at one point I decided to stand under a tree and take a picture of the icicles from underneath thinking that might make an unique photograph. Just as I was about to snap the shot, nature took over and decided to have some fun with me. The tree branch shook and what seemed like a mountain of snow descended upon me and my camera. It was at that moment that I became aware that perhaps people were looking at me and wondering what this crazy lady with the red hair was doing standing under a tree filled with snow and icicles with a camera. But the fear of what people might think of me was completely overcome by the uncontrollable laughter that burst forth from my being at that moment and I gave into it. I stood there laughing. Laughing at myself, laughing at the tree, laughing at the universe's incredible sense of humour. I don't think I have laughed that hard in a very long time and my body thanked me for it. What Joy! My next experience is very different, but equally blissful. Here it is. It was a Thursday afternoon, about three o'clock and my partner James and I decided to go out for a late lunch to our special Italian restaurant. Both of us had been working long hours for days and needed a diversion. We were seated at our favorite table in front of the fireplace. The sound of Italian melodies filled the room as our waiter greeted us. We decided to take our time today, order appetizers and just sit and talk. And then something happened, something wonderful. A fellow entered the restaurant and was seated near us, directly in front of me. There was something about him, something very different but I could not put my finger on just what that was. He ordered a cup of tea and a glass of cognac. At the time I thought this was indeed an unusual combination. And when his libation was delivered to him, I watched him very closely. He held the glass of golden liquid between both hands as if it were a lover and caressed it. He lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled the delicate bouquet. A look of ecstasy covered his face and he smiled sweetly to himself. And then and only then did he sip the cognac. It seemed to be an eternity before he swallowed it. I felt as though I was witnessing a private moment and shouldn't be watching, but I just couldn't take my eyes off of this man. He drank only the one glass, nothing more. One was all he needed. I watched him dine that day and that is exactly what he was doing, dining, not eating. When the waiter brought him his meal, it was a while before he actually took the first bite. His eyes devoured the beauty of the food and the exquisite presentation. He ate slowly and gently and savored every moment and in between each bite he sang Italian songs, along with the music. He had a beautiful lilting kind of voice that melted into the room and touched your heart. It was an extraordinary sight, to see someone so completely involved in the process of dining, so alive in that present moment to the experience of enjoying food. And as the waiters brought him each course, I noticed they walked away smiling more than I had seen them do before, and their step was lighter, much lighter. I once read somewhere that if a truly enlightened master enters a room, everyone in that entire space would feel instantly uplifted and not even realize why. That is what happened at that little Italian restaurant on this glorious afternoon. Everyone was uplifted because of that one man and his incredible aliveness to being in the moment. The man in that restaurant was indeed a master, not the kind wearing long robes and a beard, but a master none the less. He uplifted me and everyone else in that room and filled us with a profound sense of joy and love for life. And it was an enlightening moment for me as well. Until then I knew on some level that if you wanted to experience something in your life you had to be that something, you actually had to become it. You could read all about it and dream about it and think about it but in order to experience it in your reality, you had to truly BECOME it. That man had become JOY! He was walking JOY! And he reminded me in some way of Mother Teresa. She didn't talk about love, she didn't start a love foundation, she didn't lecture people about how to love. She just was love. She lived and breathed love every moment of her extraordinary life and she left a legacy of love for all of us to follow. I couldn't believe that I had learned so much just by going out to lunch. And when we were getting ready to leave the restaurant that afternoon, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. I didn't want the experience to be over. And then I remembered it would never be over. The universe is a wise and compassionate place and there would be more experiences for me to savor waiting just around the corner. As long as I was open and willing to let them in, I knew they would be there. Miracles are everywhere if we only have eyes to see. JOY is our birthright! And then I remembered, not to worry, after all, I've always got my JOY IN A BOTTLE with me!