It’s cold in Minnesota this week. So cold that Minnesotans are claiming they are kind of uncomfortable. So, so cold that the first fishing huts are finally going up on my beloved Lake Minnetonka. So, so, so cold that the tiny crack in my windshield created by an errant black walnut falling from a tree onto my car in the Fall, expanded across its entire width, in the span of 20 minutes, as I drove home from a yoga session on I694W.
I want to use the F-word, but I don’t.
So, I find myself at Harmon Auto Glass in Hopkins. I’m in the waiting room, technologically hooked up, getting ready to write my weekly Yoga Geek Out newsletter, contemplating a klesha (suffering) called avidya, loosely translated as a separation from the True Self. Everything is pretty quiet. I can hear my old windshield cracking out of the car frame. Talk radio is playing in the background. I’m swigging water that I hauled in from the car. Suddenly, quite serendipitously and unfathomably, it occurs to me, that this grubby, indistinguishable moment, this late in the cold afternoon moment, this moment that moments ago I had wished was a different moment, is actually my moment of gracious, gumptious, glorious gratitude.
I’m warm, safe, texting, able to afford the repair. My mother is roasting a chicken for dinner. Life is good. I am not defined by my cracked windshield or my Mini Cooper Clubman with the fancy leather seats that reminds me of a life I let go a long time ago, or my occasional mind chatter about what comes next and next and next…. I’m me; magnificent, slightly disheveled, earnestly shimmering forward, beautiful, me.
Hanging out in Hopkins on a cold January day in Minnesota, getting my windshield fixed.