Alanon step nine.  “Make amends to people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”

“Think of a Magic Week,” invited the leader of the Weight Watchers meeting, summoning us to choose an underlying intention that could empower healthy choices.

Inspired, my husband and I left and crossed the street to the farmer’s market. Choosing intentions for the day we each landed on the same word: Love.

Not five minutes passed before irritation popped up. He needed to free his hands to pay. Mine were wrapped in shopping bags. I heard the silent growl of two territorial dogs.

Ten minutes later, heading to the car, I asked, “How are you doing?”

“Irritated.”

“Funny we both chose love and then zap…in flew the opposite.” I recalled that powerful intentions often work this way, manifesting the shadow of a desired outcome. Intentions are serious teachers.

Wanting to find the love I prompted, “Remember the first time you felt loved by God?”

“Yes.”

“What did you feel?”

“Surprised. Relieved.”

I countered, “Those aren’t feelings,” grasping for the alternate body memory.

Pow! He reacted. I froze. I couldn’t speak. Tears rolled.

I was in trouble. I’d already triggered other friends that week with my assessments and reflecting on it later, imagined “Q” tattooed on my left arm to remind me: Ask a Question, then quit, be quiet.

I managed to shut my mouth and agree to head to our usual breakfast haunt, The Blue Dot Café inspired by the astronaut’s view of Earth. We like the playful, cosmic perspective, dark coffee, poached eggs, wilted spinach, toasted levain, and welcoming servers.

My husband placed the order. I sat by the window and looked around. A dignified, elderly couple was unable to find a seat. They asked a pregnant woman and her young daughter if they could join her. A few tables away, a middle-aged man fixed the collar of a guy with a Cal Ball cap in a wheel chair, muscles tight with dystrophy. I felt the tender vulnerability in these interactions contrast with my lack of sensitivity. I looked out the window. A woman held a book titled, “A Faithful Place.”

Then it happened. Awareness altered. Along with tears of discomfort, I fell away. I sensed each person perfectly held by Reality. Somehow loneliness, suffering, disease, beauty, effort, and warmth were fully supported by vast, neutral life. I let in the disarming, exquisite human condition on this blue dot morning.

With surprise and relief, tears continued to flow.

That day I cleaned house, walked in the woods, and tried not to tamper with the experience. The ache in my tired solar plexus reappeared, nudging, “not my will, by thine be done.”

At dinner, I finally spoke, humbled by truth’s little tattoo on my soul.  The next morning I apologized.

Alanon step nine.  “Make amends to people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.”

Have you experienced a moment of enlightenment?