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!