Archives for the month of: December, 2013

How do I ‘measure’ time in those timeless moments of meditation?

Just one moment...

Just one moment…

I woke early this morning, feeling rested and serene. It is an ordinary enough morning. I sat down to meditate…it was 5:35 am. In the ‘next instant’ it is now somehow 6:50 am. More than an hour slipped by as I contentedly planted myself and my awareness fully in just one moment… now.

Some other moment.

Some other moment.

I don’t know that meditation ‘does anything’ for me beyond the obvious bits of change I really feel: the increase in apparent emotional resilience, the improvement in my sleep over weeks and months, improved posture, an increased everyday level of contentment, increased patience and compassion with myself and others…but… that’s not exactly ‘science’, is it? It is simply my experience with the value of meditation in my own life.

Another moment, another day.

Another moment, another day.

When I started this blog, I was struggling. A lot. I struggle less now, and enjoy the moment more. Even the challenging moments seem less fraught with a sense of futility, doom, and torment, and a bit more like ‘moments’, themselves. Learning to meditate, and doing so in the face of a personal conviction that “I already know this and it doesn’t help me”, has been critical to my personal growth, and healing, this year. I’m not ‘selling something’, and there is no ‘helpful link’ to a product anywhere in this post.

Yet another moment.

Yet another moment.

I am a student of life, of love, of mindfulness. I am asking questions, a lot of questions, and gently observing my experience more, and thinking ‘about’ it less. I am learning to live firmly in my ‘now’ and slowly, little by little, I am healing my ancient hurts.

75 minutes of meditation slips by as comfortably as 10 minutes these days. Unmeasured time, uncounted minutes. Worth it? Totally. I am learning that time spent in meditation, spent observing and aware of ‘now’, of living mindfully, is just about the best way to spend it. Certainly, taking time for timeless moments in meditation is a lovely way to begin a Monday. Any day, really, but definitely a Monday. 🙂

The photos? Just a handful that didn’t ‘have their moment’ in earlier posts, on other days. Pictures of evening light and quiet moments in 2013. This has been a very important year for me. I don’t cry much these days… I do meditate.  It is possible I spend as much time meditating these days as I once spent crying.  I haven’t the data to quantify that accurately, so I can’t say with certainty; I feel changed.

A very recent moment just at dawn. A beginning.

A very recent moment just at dawn. A beginning.

In the morning, life can feel so new, so ‘right now’, and so gentle. In some moments, these days, my whole life feels that way: new, gentle, and ‘right now’.

Today is a good day to experience change, to wonder, to be awed by loveliness, to embrace what matters most, to smile on the inside, to love. Today I am compassionate, joyful, and kind. Today I am tender, and gentle. Today I will change the world. 😀

 

 

 

 

I woke early this morning, filled with a sense of purpose, and slightly concerned I might have ‘overslept’. It was 6:00 am. I didn’t feel rushed, but I also didn’t want to, so I remained committed to the purposeful moment, and moved through my morning routine contentedly. It was the start of an excellent Monday… only… today is Sunday.

I’m still contented; early mornings don’t distress me. I slept well after a couple difficult nights, and a day of illness, and feeling both well-rested and ‘well’, it is a lovely morning thus far.

I took time to meditate, and my yoga practice felt relaxed and deep, and I was patient with myself. I enjoyed the satisfaction of doing a couple new asanas with fluidity and grace, having practiced them enough now to be able to do them without refreshing my memory immediately before doing them.  One of my partners had been pointing out how much bad posture was also causing elevated stress (through physical discomfort) and I added a couple of asanas to my yoga sequence specifically to help improve my posture, overall. It’s been helping. I also got my eyes checked – because by far the most common scenario for my bad posture is ‘hunched over the computer/my laptop’.  I did indeed need new glasses.  Just knowing my eyesight is a factor in my posture, and thus my pain and stress levels, I adjusted my settings on my laptop so that everything is a tad bigger and easier to read. 5 years ago, having to take such an action would have peeved me for days, and caused me to feel very blue over ‘aging’. This year, it was really a pretty matter-of-fact thing, without stress. Why wouldn’t I take advantage of the user preference settings in my own computer to suit my current needs? Anything else would be…ridiculous. I’m eager to have my new glasses, too.

Somewhen during this morning’s meditation, thoughts of road signs [on life’s journey] and highlight reels [of life’s important moments] drifted through my consciousness. I observed them, as words and ideas, and let them drift on by. They lingered in the background, wanting to be considered later, and here I am considering them.

It would be pretty convenient if life did have ‘road signs’, wouldn’t it? “Abrupt Change Ahead” for life’s unexpected challenges, perhaps, or “Caution: Slow Self ” for those groggy mornings? We try so hard to benefit from the wisdom of others, and with such limited success, sometimes. Is that a lack of trust? Is it a lack of understanding that the experiences of others may be truly relevant to our own? Is it a misplaced sense of our uniqueness to the detriment of our similarities? Is it a lack of will competing with the possibility that even those acts or qualities that do not serve us well, may serve us somehow? I find myself wondering if I can somehow imagine those ‘missing road signs’ as I experience my now – by inserting a gentle “Yield” sign in those moments of stress before escalation, or a bold “Stop” sign in that breath before saying just the wrong thing? If I could, would I mind them or disregard them? That got me wondering… am I a ‘good citizen’ in my own experience? I suspect that last one could easily amount to an entire day’s thinking…

Highlight Reels are something totally different, but still somehow potentially instructive and cautionary. I often explore a montage of relevant memories when I tackle life’s curriculum. New lessons often prove to be significantly less ‘new’ than I experience them to be initially, and there is value in considering prior opportunities to have applied the lesson facing me, as well as considering what future opportunities there may be.  There is also value in contemplating past successes – with precisely what I am learning, and things that are quite different in some way.

When do those ‘road signs’ become paralyzing anxiety? When do ‘highlight reels’ become self-deprecatory or punishing rumination full of futility and despair?  If the most useful question is not ‘when?’… what is it?

Not even a thousand words, and no pictures, and I notice the morning wearing on gently. It’s 8:00 am, and although it is a Sunday, I hear a partner making coffee in the kitchen. This morning’s words are more words in a recreational way than words with any urgently serious intention. Casual words. Reflective words. Neither road signs nor highlights – just words.  I will set them aside, and return to the immediate and beautiful ‘now’. 🙂

Today I am compassionate. Today I am content. Today I am changing the world. Sundays are good days for change.

I love making new wonderful memories. I also enjoy smiles. This year’s Yule holiday had plenty of both. Quite a nice holiday. If I were still a child I would excitedly list off ‘all the things I got’, and it would be a short – and very satisfying – list. The best gift this year was unquestionably the good company, the low stress level, and the ease with which events and time flowed. A lovely holiday. I’m still smiling.

I'm still smiling...so is this thing. :-)

I’m still smiling…so is this thing. 🙂

One of the most delightful things about this year’s holiday is the strange stuffed animal one of my partners gave me this year. It was perched on the sofa, in the evening, unexpectedly. Its big happy smile has, since then, reliably evoked my own smile. It speaks to me beyond the mechanical “Merry Christmas” message it plays when I push it’s button. Big wide-open eyes, a friendly approachable smile…I have realized more than once since it showed up that I was carrying it about the house with me. lol. The simple delight of a smile is hard to overstate.

This year really wasn’t about ‘stuff’*. This year was also one of the most lovely winter holidays I’ve enjoyed. Good fun and good company, and it rather seemed as if everyone brought the very best bits of who they are.

I looked over my ‘Best of 2013’ results on my Facebook profile. Wow. A year of growth, of change, and so much to cherish and be grateful for. I am struck by how much there is to enjoy in life, even at the toughest times. I’m grateful for so many opportunities to grow, and to be heard.

Soon enough the year with end, and the New Year will commence – with or without fanfare, time passes. Time – so much and so little of it. I hope I am able to use what I have wisely.

This morning I hurt. I’ve a headache and a stuffy head. My arthritis is making me stiff, and I feel grumpy listening to the ‘snap crack pop’ and crunch of arthritic bones as I slowly work on regaining my mobility for another day. I slept badly. Really badly. I think back on yesterday and wonder… did I really have 4 quad lattes yesterday? Did I really have one of them past 4:00 pm? Am I really surprised that I didn’t sleep well? The house seems noisy, although I don’t find anything specific to pinpoint as noisier or louder than usual. I have an appointment and I am up earlier than I need or want to be. I’m hormonal and cross with the world, and vaguely resentful to also be aware that it is all pretty inconsequential stuff.  None of this has to be any more important right now than words on a page. I could choose to escalate my irritation to ire, and perhaps from there to anger or even rage… really, though, I’d rather not. It’s managing to be a pleasant enough morning in spite of pain, fatigue, and hormones, as I sit here in the quiet with my coffee.

I find myself wondering about ‘is’.  This lovely morning could be so easily derailed with a few poor choices. ‘Is’ it a good day – or a bad day? How much of that do I really choose, on any given day, at any given moment? What is the difference – really – between a day when I hurt, and hurting doesn’t matter, and a day when I hurt that becomes a day when all that matters is the pain I can’t seem to escape? Is it ‘choice’? What are the choices that make the difference?

So many of us struggle with so much… and I often see people dear to me struggling, and want to say ‘choose differently!’, but even in the moment I recognize these are not helpful words to hear, however helpful taking the action of making difference choices might be.

This morning I am looking for opportunities to make choices that have more desirable outcomes. Today I am learning to be more compassionate with myself, and less judgmental. Today, I am asking good questions and enjoying the beauty offered in each moment. Today I am changing the world.

 

*I did get some very cool “stuff” this year, though, and I would not want to diminish the thoughtful generosity of my loves this year.  They obviously know my heart.  I even stepped a little further into the 21st century by embracing eBooks at long last. 🙂

I took a long walk on the Winter Solstice again this year. Most years I have, it definitely counts as a ‘ritual’. This year I took a camera – and I think it is the first year I have taken pictures along my Solstice journey.

Last year’s Solstice walk was spent fretting aimless and sorrowfully, mostly about my brain injury – an event something like 30 years in the past, but last year it was new information for me. I was also deeply, and profoundly struck by the heinous gang rape in Delhi just days before – an event so powerfully traumatizing that the whole world paused to take notice, and rape became an everyday topic of conversation for a lot of people. My post-traumatic stress symptoms had flared up, and my sense of self, and all the bits and pieces that are ‘who I am’ started to unravel. It was a painful and very lonely time in my life; even surrounded by people who love me, I felt isolated and alone.   For me, on that Solstice, it was simply an uncomfortable walk ruminating fretfully and unproductively. I did not write in my journal. I hadn’t started my blog. I was silent; words had failed me. 

This year’s Solstice walk was very different. I eagerly ventured forth, feeling hopeful, content, and satisfied to take my time with my journey. I brought my camera, a smile, and a serene heart.  I went to a favorite small forest near where I live. I grinned happily at a little girl in the parking lot who noticed me removing my shoes.  I take my walk bare footed (or for as much of the journey as I can, weather and fitness permitting), it’s been my practice as long as I can recall, and has a certain sacred feeling to it, for me. 

I walked about 5 miles. 5 miles of soft winter sunlight. 5 miles of sodden mossy paths dripping small sparkling gems of recent rainfall from leaf tips and branches. 5 miles of birdsong and frogs peeping. 5 miles of oak, maple, and pine. 5 miles of fern and lichen. 5 miles of squirrels playfully managing their affairs. 5 miles of sweet-scented breezes, and the regular beat of my own footsteps.  I walked 5 miles and managed a handful of pictures, a couple of hours of quiet observation, and a few minutes of meditation wrapped in forest.  I’d share all of it, if I could. As it is, I can really only share the pictures, and some handful of words that don’t really do the experience justice. 

I enter the forest, shortly before noon.

I enter the forest, shortly before noon.

The path as metaphor was a common theme.

The path as metaphor was a common theme.

Beautiful details, up close.

Beautiful details, up close.

So much dripping moss.

So much dripping moss.

Ferns nestled between tree trunks.

Ferns nestled between tree trunks.

Gazing skyward.

Gazing skyward.

A miniature world.

A miniature world.

'The distance' is trees. I consider the living depth of field.

‘The distance’ is trees. I consider the living depth of field.

A lot of lichen, visible in all directions.

A lot of lichen, visible in all directions.

Several sorts of lichen in this forest.

Several sorts of lichen in this forest.

A soggy path lit by soft winter light.

A soggy path lit by soft winter light.

Sun filtering through the trees.

Sun filtering through the trees.

Near to noon, and at the edge of the forest.

Near to noon, and at the edge of the forest.

The noon solstice sun.

The noon solstice sun.

5 miles is a lot of path...

5 miles is a lot of path…

...more to see around every bend...

…more to see around every bend…

There are ferns.

There are ferns.

So many ferns.

So many ferns.

A mossy tree hung with pine needles.

A mossy tree hung with pine needles.

A little festive...

A little festive…

More paths to walk.

More paths to walk.

Some paths are darker.

Some paths are darker.

Small wonders.

Small wonders.

...And more ferns.

…And more ferns.

More paths, and I keep walking.

More paths, and I keep walking.

The hustle and noise of humans being is silent here.

The hustle and noise of humans being is silent here.

Crossing a creek.

Crossing a creek.

There are, of course, more ferns.

There are, of course, more ferns.

The sun breaks through the trees, reminding me time is passing.

The sun breaks through the trees, reminding me time is passing.

A spider's hammock.

A spider’s hammock.

Up close, sparkling rain drops like jewels.

Up close, sparkling rain drops like jewels.

Reflected sky, and a metaphor for reflection.

Reflected sky, and a metaphor for reflection.

My companion while I meditate.

My companion while I meditate.

The end of the journey.

The end of the journey.

By 2 pm the sun was already beginning to drop lower in the sky.  I finished my walk with a smile, and a few deep breaths, and returned home to love and holiday spirit, home and hearth, and mindful service. 😀

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This morning I woke up with pain. Some sort of weirdness yesterday afternoon with a nasty cramp in my right calf, after a long Solstice walk in the forest, that lingers this morning as unexpected pain associated with some specific movements. It hurts in the background as a dull ache until I do something ‘just the wrong way’ and it reminds me with a moment of acute agony that it doesn’t plan to be so easily dismissed.  Still, I woke in a good mood and I was pleased to find that walking on a flat surface is one of the more comfortable things I can be doing – which made making coffee this morning relatively easy and not particularly painful. So…good mood…good coffee… time for a good morning. Right? Oh. Wait – there’s more!

I had an irksome moment with technology this morning when I sat down with my laptop (note to self – please, PLEASE, do take time to meditate every day before anything else, it does make that much difference!). My mouse wasn’t working. I did the troubleshooting, rebooted the laptop, still no mouse. I replaced the mouse battery, no mouse. Rebooted again – finally, I have a living mouse. But… for some reason using it ‘feels weird’. Sluggish. Like the buttons are not as responsive. I become aggravated, I fight it. I struggle to set aside my frustration – and the background irritability that stems from a loving partner pointing out just last night that I’m due for a better mouse – one that doesn’t shine a laser in his eyes every time I thoughtlessly lift the mouse while pointed in his general direction. At that moment, I was really liking my mouse – it’s a pretty one. Right now I’m just frustrated with it and wanting to smash things… but the wanting to smash things is not solely the fault of the mouse. There’s more.

I use online services. Many people do, these days. Some services require strict authentication and identity verification – like banks – and while I value that they do, and appreciate the good security, I also find that during the holiday season, it can be a huge irritating bit of inconvenient bullshit. Yep. Total bullshit. I managed to ‘lock up’ an account on such a service by starting and then canceling a transaction. Yep. I just wanted to see if there would be a fee – and the fee structure is not easily available to view, making it easier to start the transaction, get to that point to see if there is a fee (and what it is) and then cancel the transaction if it is not worth paying that fee… generally not an issue. Today, it locked up my account and generated a dismally polite email advising me that ‘all’ I have to do is re-verify ‘a few’ ‘simple’ account details – by snail mail.  I call this ‘a service I am unlikely to use again’. The amount of frustration generated, and the resulting emotional volatility and rage are actually just not worth dealing with at all. My immediate reaction is ‘I won’t use this service anymore’. My strategy for getting my morning back on track is ‘take a few deep breaths and meditate’.

I am easily frustrated by dealing with banking, with frustration, with technology failures, with deviations from simple routines – they hit me hard, and momentarily disable me with a sudden increase in emotional volatility and a sudden loss of cognitive skill (or a perception of it). I very much doubt that online businesses, or application developers, spend much time thinking about how changes to their products affect the small number of people who do have challenges with brain injuries or cognitive challenges. Something as simple as changing the authentication process can be frustrating for anyone, but for me that bit of frustration can set off an avalanche of anger, confusion, and emotion that turn the simplest task into something almost unachievable in seconds. It sucks.

I’ll take a pleasant moment for gratitude – it is surprisingly comforting to remember how much worse an experience like this used to feel when I didn’t know why I reacted the way I did, or why it seemed so much more challenging for me than it seemed for ‘other people’. I’m grateful that I found out about my brain injury.  It’s easier now – at least, it is easier to ‘find my way home’ to a place of balance and calm, again. More like a storm, less like climate change. 🙂

It’s actually a pretty good morning, now that the irksome bit is behind me. My coffee is cold, and my leg hurts, but… it’s only pain and cold coffee. Nothing to cry about. Certainly no need to smash things over it. Wow. What a difference mindfulness makes! Yep, still human – but I am human; I use tools.

This guy is mindful, and living in his moment.

This guy is mindful, and living in his moment.