"Calm-abiding" is a phrase that Buddhist writers and scholars have employed over the ages to denote a state of mind that the words self-describe.
Today, depite an iffy oven whose real, accurate temperature is unknown to me - thus making the roasting of a 16 pound turkey a possible fiasco - calm-abiding permeats the air on my terrace of balmy Southern California weather.
The pressure is off. No longer striving to prove my housewifely or best-hostess-ever status, the dinner fixings have been happily pawned off to family and friends who are quite willing to contribute (and are state-of-the-art cooks). Thus, when I find myself in the kitchen making extra little doodad veggie treats, it is relaxing because my attachment to "enough," "more," and "overwhelm" has dissipated with age and neurosis fatigue.
Sure, the thought of an OLED 55 inch LG television that looks perfect from every angle does cause one eyebrow to lift slightly. A pause, a skip of a heart beat, a soul-searching thought. Do I jump into the fray and starting frothing at the mouth to grab my prize? Or let the craving pass and allow sanity to prevail, like a drug addict determined to stay sober?
Ah yes, calm-abiding. When it arrives on the doorstep of the mind, let it in and be at peace.
And one last thought. People of conscience, please don't call this Turkey Day, which causes the slaughter of millions of birds. It's THANKS GIVING. Especially thanks giving that you were not born a turkey in America this go-around.