I, Awareness & The Shopping Cart

I, Awareness, push my shopping cart toward the far side of the food co-op parking lot. As I approach my car, actually, my son’s car that I’ve borrowed, another car pulls in next to it and a tall woman with silver-blond hair gets out and smiles at me.

‘Can I take the cart for you when you’re done?’ she says.

‘That would be great,’ I say and smile at her.

I pull out my key, my son’s key, and see that it doesn’t have an ‘Open Trunk’ button so I stick it in the keyhole, but it won’t fit. ‘Don’t know why it doesn’t work,’ I say to the woman. ‘It’s my son’s car.’ I hurry to open the driver’s side door and pop the trunk, then hurry back to the shopping cart and grab two of the four bags and drop them in the trunk.

‘Don’t rush,’ says the woman. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Oh, no thanks,’ I say, ‘I’m fine.’ I place the other two bags in the trunk and close it. I give the shopping cart a gentle push in her direction. ‘Thanks again.’

She takes the cart and our eyes meet. I’m immediately struck with an overwhelming feeling of well-being. It’s none other than Awareness myself who looks into my eyes. Luminous, penetrating eyes accompanied by a wonderful, warm broad smile.

‘No problem,’ Awareness says, rolling the cart away. ‘And have a wonderful evening.’

‘You too,’ I, Awareness, say and smile again.

We melt into a cloud of shimmering light.

Oneness pushes off with the cart and Oneness drives off in the borrowed car.