Finishing up a great week, I realized my headspace was cluttered, over-filled, and really over-flowing with not-yet-fully-processed information of various sorts. Not enough time spent on meditation, and too much task processing, event living, information seeking, and conversational time enjoyed with my Traveling Partner. I felt quite exhausted, cognitively, and rather as if I were “way behind on things”. My brain’s “buffer” was entirely clogged with a backlog of not-yet-fully-considered bits of this and that, and it had become a full-time distraction, in the background. I had a persistent sensation of having “forgotten something”.

…so busy… I lose sight of details staring at the distant horizon.

This morning, after sleeping in most deliciously (until 7:00 am!), I put on water for coffee, and took a seat on my meditation cushion. Some time later, I rose, and completed the process of making coffee, feeling much more rested, on a much deeper level. I enjoy my coffee slowly – without words, without news, without email, or blog posts, even without music… just a woman, a Saturday morning, and a fresh cup of coffee. I take time for me. Time for reflection. Time to breathe. Time to consider, and to be considered. It is time that passes slowly, gently, and fills me up with contentment, resilience, and wonder, for future moments that are less than ideally satisfying.

I listen to cars passing, on the street beyond the driveway. I listen to early morning birdsong. I watch the dawn become a gray spring morning. I sip my coffee. For too long, I resisted these calm moments as “wasted unproductive time” pushing myself to rush through my life, “binging” on tasks that queued up and crowded my days, and “purging” on sleep when exhausted, and feeling life slipping through my grasp – unsatisfied, dizzied by distraction and fatigue, and emotionally wrecked by the utter lack of self-care that characterized my experience. Done with all that. I make a point to take time for me. Time to reflect, and to consider, and to wonder, and to appreciate, and to experience, and to savor, and to enjoy… the choice, as it turns out, is mine. πŸ™‚

A random moment I took for me. πŸ™‚ Totally worth it.

There is no “perfection” – only practice. The destination is the journey. All things pass, and there are verbs (and choices) involved. Results vary. Every failure is a lesson. Every end is the potential to begin again. I keep at it – living my own experience, letting go of the temptation to try to live any other. I am my own cartographer; my journey, my choices, my map, my dictionary. The map is not the journey. The plan is not the experience. The goal does not determine the outcome.

Delightfully enough, if I don’t like where I’ve taken myself in life, I can always begin again. πŸ™‚ I think I’ll start with a second cup of coffee. This lovely moment doesn’t need a do-over. πŸ™‚