For about two months now, I have been doing my shopping differently. I am tired of filling half a bin with unnecessary plastic packaging after every trip to the shops, of fruit and vegetables that keep getting more watery, of white celery that gives less juice, of flowers that are already drooping on the day I buy them, of food that tastes nothing like the flavours I grew up with, and of a bill that stretches a little higher every week, even when I stick to my shopping list, which I usually do. The supermarket staff are friendly, professional and correct, but there was something I was missing.
For two months now, Tuesday morning has been marked firmly in my diary: ‘to the market’. It is a very old habit that I have brought back. With a few shopping bags in my hand, I explore the market and tick off my shopping list. The vegetables, fruit, meat, fish and flowers all look better. They taste better too. Above all, they make me want to taste them. Except for the flowers, of course. I am greeted warmly as ‘love’ and waved off cheerfully until next time. You can see how much they care about serving their customers, and they show that they know me and can read me as a customer. In all my years of going to the supermarket, I have never experienced that kind of warm contact.
Perhaps a little arrogantly, I used to think that going to the market was no longer necessary. How wrong I was. It is a wonderful experience, and good for the daily steps I want to reach, because the stalls I need are quite spread out.
At the edge of the market stands a large chapel. It is called a chapel, but to me it has the air of a church. When I walk past, its doorway often draws me in, as if it wants to invite me inside. Every now and then I step in. This morning too. A devoted lady was arranging the flowers, and a little later she carried a bucket to the sacristy. I suspect she had been doing a bit of cleaning. The chapel looks spotless. Neatly painted, everything in good repair and lavishly decorated.
I sit down in the second row, on the first chair as seen from the centre aisle. It is pleasantly quiet and serene. Amid the soft music in the background, I hear a song from long ago, and to my own surprise I can still sing along. It made me happy. Now the name of it escapes me.
I decide to do my daily morning attunement in this chapel before I go and fill my shopping bags at the weekly market.
I attune, in silence, coming more and more into contact with my essence. In one line. In one point. Carried, loved, supported and inspired. It happened by itself. As if the energy of the chapel was glad I was making use of it. Just as I was glad.
After a while, it felt complete. As I stepped outside, I felt charged like a brand-new battery. It promises to be a good day, flashed through my mind. Might it be an idea to come here again some morning to attune? My heart nodded yes.
With an easy stride, I walked to my first stall. I bought seven bunches of flowers for € 12. To brighten up my home, just as I had been brightened up in the chapel. Now on to the vegetable stall. ‘What’ll it be, love?’ What a beautiful question.
At first sight, this piece seems to be mainly about the market, but my message is also about something else. What is the first thing you do in the morning? Do you make time for attunement in the morning? Attunement? What is it? How do you do it? What is the point of it? Above all: what do you attune to? Could it become a daily habit for you, just like brushing your teeth?
In the chapel, I attuned to a field that charges me for the day. A field in which I am aware of who I am. A field from which it is easier to let go of disruptive elements in my life. A field in which I become glad and joyful about life, in general, and about my own existence in particular. In that field, my heart opens to the possibilities life offers me. I am healed and lifted up in it. It charges my batteries without using any electricity. Do you need to go to a chapel for that? Of course not. The field is omnipresent, and so it is available everywhere.
In all the activities I organise, whoever they are meant for, I work from this field. Time and again, I have the privilege of witnessing the growth, the joy and also the struggles my participants experience. The struggles only arise when you resist the life energy, the growth and the joy. They disappear when you attune to the field of aware-ness.
The planned activities are about the attunement that is so badly needed in times when turbulence is the main theme of the news. It is an invitation to you, dear reader, to become part of the growing group of people who are waking up in the field of aware-ness.
I would love to welcome you with open arms at one of the autumn activities.
With joyful greetings
Hilde Van Bulck
