That's so random!

Women talk to their girlfriends about everything.  All of my deepest, shallowest, holiest, raunchiest, and funniest conversations have been with women.   Most women don't even limit these conversations to their best friends.  If we sense that good female bond, we will open up to strangers.  So it didn't surprise me when earlier this week, I found myself discussing the finer points of fine lingerie with a middle aged woman I had met five minutes earlier.  She became quite giggly as she recounted the time when she went to the department store and splurged on a satin bikini with lace and a matching brassiere after all her years of granny panties.  We talked about getting wedgies and girls who wear short skirts with nothing underneath.  We were laughing so hard, and it was so cute to see her covering her mouth and blushing while she talked about it.  We were telling each other very intimate things about our intimate wear, and having so much fun together.

This all was interrupted by a thought: "This is so funny.  I'm in a hospice laughing with this fifty year old patient about thongs."  Yes, she is terminally ill, has barely any hair, and was telling me her tale from a bed in a private hospice room.  But before that thought, before that note made by my brain regarding the juxtaposition of sexy lace and a hospice bed, we were just two.  Just two beings sharing joy. And when that thought came in, my presence left her side.  I was whisked up and away by thought into my ego's world of trying to be funny and "random."  Where did that leave her?

I think this is a really clear example of how our thoughts can detract from our experience.  It's like standing in front of something beautiful and taking 20 photos of it to scrapbook and show to your friends instead of immersing yourself in the experience of it.  That thought scooped me out of the experience of laughing with her and shrunk it into a funny snapshot to show my friends.  Do you ever do this?  Do you allow observation to interrupt experience?

Imagine if we dove into each moment with disregard for thought, if we swam through experience instead of taking notes or making judgments about it, if we devoted each moment of attention to those in our presence.   I bet we would naturally be a lot more interesting and interested.  Every experience would seem as delightful as the most random thing that has ever happened to us.  I say this because when I pay attention, I notice that it's a hilarious miracle that we are here at all living these moments which keep coming and coming in this strange world.  And I would rather experience all of that than take mental notes about it.