Archives for posts with tag: breathe

I took yesterday and stepped away from the daily routine and invested some of my precious time in me. I spent the day downtown, window-shopping, walking unfamiliar streets as often as I walked more familiar ones, getting my hair cut, and visiting the Chinese Garden. I must have needed this wee break from the ordinary; by day’s end I felt as though I’d enjoyed a long weekend. Choices and verbs – they’re not always a mandate, an obligation, or a necessity, and I can use them to my obvious advantage, and quite likely would benefit from doing so more often. 🙂

Sometimes a lovely day is simply a lovely day.

Sometimes a lovely day is simply a lovely day.

The day was a delight, and finished well, too. This morning, the feeling of contentment lingers. It’s quite a lovely feeling, and definitely worth the investment of time, will, and choice.

I am in a substantial amount of pain today, but for the moment it seems pretty inconsequential. I am reminded what a powerful mind-body connection pain has in my experience when I observe ‘how good I feel’ while also observing how much  pain I am in; the investment in treating myself well, and building my emotional resilience, provides some protection from being overwhelmed by the pain, and more easily able to observe and manage it, without being swallowed whole by a more negative experience. Oh, sure, I still have some practices and verbs that must be attended to, if I want to maintain this positive outcome (the yoga that improves my mobility, the good nutrition and exercise that maintain bone strength, the meditation that builds emotional balance, and mindfulness practices that ensure I am aware of what I need for good self-care, all matter). Good self-care is not a quick trip to a convenience store, as journey’s go, it’s more like a very long through-hike on a well-marked, memorized route that suffers from scenery so varied that it is quite easy to be distracted to the point of standing still. In almost every moment, I find something I could handle a little better, to my great benefit; there is always more to practice.

Enjoying a moment mindfully is a moment well spent.

Enjoying a moment mindfully is a moment well spent.

Good practices – and the tools that build them – come from a lot of sources, for me. Yesterday I found a new one hidden in a frustrating moment – a bit like finding a plastic Easter egg, opening it up, and discovering a gold coin of great value within. An application I use on my phone updated, and the update has stopped my password from saving; I have to log in each and every time I open the app – or change from one activity within it to another. I’m ‘not wired for frustration’ – it’s one of my biggest challenges, emotionally. Frustration is my nemesis, my kryptonite, my icy highway – when I experience frustration it undercuts my emotional resilience almost instantly, and all to often some horrible tantrum ensues. It’s ugly. It occurred to me at this unlikely moment, struggling with unwanted tears, and trembling hands, that as hard as the frustration itself is, I could use this particular challenge as a ‘safe’ opportunity to really practice handling frustration, due to its predictability, and lack of direct connection to the experience of any loved one! Nice. I spent the remainder of that train ride going to that app, and breathing through the frustration, and practicing dialing it down with will and mindful attention to it. It ended up being both worthwhile and entertaining (although not quite ‘fun’). 🙂

Choices and perspective have a relationship to each other; we choose much of what we see, we limit what we are aware of.

Choices and perspective have a relationship to each other; we choose much of what we see, we limit what we are aware of.

Today is another day, another opportunity to practice the very best practices. Today is another day to smile, and to choose my actions and my words with great care, so as not to weaponize them. Today is another day to put myself at the top of my agenda. Today is another day to listen with my whole attention, and consider each interaction as an opportunity for growth and connection. Today is a good day to cherish the world, and savor my experience.

Events unfold as they will, and I can raise my level of acceptance instead of my level of frustration (or despair, or…) – with some effort, and commitment – or I can stand idly by while my frustration increases, until… well, there’s the thing. The ‘until…’ part is somewhat individual, isn’t it? Some people lash out at others, some people turn on themselves, and being so very human there is the unpredictable complication of what limits any one of us has on resources to manage our intense emotions; we haven’t all got the same tools in our toolbox.  Frustration, fear, anxiety, rage, grief, despair…these are all every bit as human as delight, joy, love, contentment, and bliss. I spend more time attempting to manage the negative ones; I often don’t accept them in myself, and my own disappointment piles on top, and then I sometimes add insecurity about how someone else might also be disappointed – or ‘worse’ – and self-criticism that I am ‘indulging’ in such a pointless negative waste of precious time. Ouch. I’ve been pretty hard on myself, and too often. Emotions are part of the journey; making room in my heart to have my experience without judgment gives me room to grow, and a chance to more easily move on.

Perspective offers a chance to make changes.

Perspective offers a chance to make changes.

Have you ever stopped to consider that in the privacy of your own heart, your own thoughts, you can be as kind and compassionate with yourself as you choose – and that ‘no one is watching’, or able to change how you treat yourself within? That’s yours, 100%. Make it as luxurious, as loving, as kind, as wholesome, or as deep as you like; it is all yours. With that in mind…why would any one of us treat ourselves poorly?

Realistically, I am finding I can nearly always change something. That seems simple enough. I forget it sometimes. The biochemical elements of emotions, the challenges I specifically have as an individual, and the fundamental reality of the nature of will are such that it isn’t always easy to choose to feel differently than I do; it is still an option, and still possible. Now if I can learn to do it without experiencing ‘struggle’…

We choose our path.

We choose our path.

…But is the difficult path difficult because it is difficult, or is it difficult because it appears so, and I have adopted the assumption that it will be so for that reason alone? My traveling partner said something yesterday that has been lurking in the background, keeping me thinking about this idea of what we perceive to be, becoming our experience because we choose the experience based on the assumptions we make due to our perception – whether that perception is accurate or not, whether it is an experience that can be communicated, even whether we are ‘really’ having that experience we perceive ourselves to be having at all. There’s a lot of free will muddling up the everyday distinction between ‘real’ and whatever else the options are.

Storms pass.

Storms pass.

Today is a good day to make choices about how I experience my experience. Today is a good day to be awake, aware, and open to the possibility that the world is not entirely as I see it – and that others see it differently than I do, either way. Today is a good day to treat myself with kindness – why wouldn’t I do at least that for me, today? Today is a good day to change my perspective on the world.

I’ve been ‘homesick’ for a long time, decades, actually. It’s not exactly ‘homesick’ as in missing some place I once was, or still call home… it’s homesick for a specific sense of ‘home’ that I’ve experienced only rarely. I have moments when I feel this particular feeling of ‘home’, and it fills me up and nourishes my soul in a way I don’t have quite the right words for. I don’t yearn for it continuously, or seek it with any regular method or pace. The feeling comes and goes. When the homesick feeling arrives it feels as if it were there in the background, already. When it dissipates I am relieved, and continue on as if it never were, and I go on enjoying the moments that feel like home.

I sometimes feel a sense of being at home when I am sitting quietly, watching the fish in my aquarium.

I sometimes feel a sense of being at home when I am sitting quietly, watching the fish in my aquarium.

During my lunch walk I considered thoughts of ‘home’ and what ‘feels like home’ to me, as an individual. I walked, smiling, feeling the fresh spring breezes tickle my skin with the fringe of over-grown bangs I chronically tuck behind my ears. I felt the sun warm my face, and enjoy the way it glows through the new spring leaves along my way. My way. That feels like home, too. I stopped to swing on the swings in the park for a few minutes before walking on.

Is being at home a feeling I take with me?

Simple pleasures feel like home...

Simple pleasures feel like home…

Is being at home something one practices?

There's more than one perspective on 'home'...

There’s more than one perspective on ‘home’…

Do we ‘find our way home’, or do we ‘build the home of our dreams’?

Life's curriculum wrapped in spring breezes and blue skies - I'm okay with that.

Life’s curriculum wrapped in spring breezes and blue skies – I’m okay with that.

Is home ‘where the heart is’? What does that actually mean? An interesting thought to finish the evening; a meditation on home and heart.

Today is just about finished, here. Where will tomorrow take me? What will I learn? Will I wake and find the day as gentle and amenable to growth as I have found the evening? Tonight I close my eyes, smiling, wishing the world well, and hoping everyone gets home safely.

I am okay right now. Easy or hard doesn’t matter in this moment.

It's a journey.

It’s a journey.

I’ve spent the day on my own. It’s not what I needed for myself, but my needs are not the only needs worthy of consideration. It’s not as if I don’t want more time for my own agenda, and I took the day as an opportunity, convenient to enjoying some things that aren’t always so easy to fit into the day-to-day routine. I traveled across town to a favorite shop, and contemplated other fish, other aquariums, and made pleasant conversation with the people there.

A quiet place to sit, in the back, becomes another moment of stillness and contemplation.

A quiet place to sit, in the back, becomes another moment of stillness and contemplation.

I walked the 4 miles from the shop, across the river, across the downtown area, and enjoyed the sites along the way. “Walking it off” is another good practice for me; the longer and farther I walk, the calmer and more regular my breathing becomes, and I gain perspective, and my thinking shifts toward increased compassion, empathy, even – sometimes – real wisdom. That’s a lovely feeling.

Open eyes, open mind, and engaged in simple presence in the moment, a worthy choice any day.

Open eyes, open mind, and engaged in simple presence in the moment, a worthy choice any day.

Sitting quietly, just breathing, I spent much of the afternoon and evening meditating. I have a lovely view for the purpose; my aquarium sits in front of my favorite place to sit while I meditate. Is it the aquarium itself that makes the location so pleasant? It could be that, it could be that this is the place I associate with calm, and safety, and stillness just generally, in my every day life. It’s been a good day for stillness. In truth, in every practical respect it has simply been a good day. Emotions foul the waters of calm perspective and loving joy, now and then, a harsh reality of shared living among other humans. We are each having our own experience, and quite rightly the experience we are each having, ourselves, is the one upon which we are most focused, and the one of which we are most aware. Our own pain hurts worse than any other. That can really mess with a good connection.

Emotion and reason; it's a complicated balance.

Emotion and reason; it’s a complicated balance.

There’s always love, though, and words about love, and the inspiration that words about love can provide…and the soul-healing reminder that love is.

I meditate, and meditate more. I don’t worry that it isn’t ‘fancy’ or that it isn’t following some specific guided meditation of some sort; I am awake, aware, and breathing. I am here. Now. I am okay.

They live, each moment what it is, safe in their private world.

They live, each moment what it is, safe in their private world.

I breathe, and become still and calm. Fish swim.

I often wonder at the content of their consciousness; they are aware of me.

I often wonder at the content of their consciousness; they are aware of me.

I breathe, and let the stillness fill me, and wrap me in contentment. Life doesn’t have any requirement to be more perfect than it is. There is value in ‘learning to swim’ the powerful tides of heartfelt emotion, and to float on the currents of change, buoyant even in stormy weather.

What I see has so much to do with what I look for.

What I see has so much to do with what I look for.

It’s a still and quiet evening, and rather different than I had expected it might be, from the vantage point of days before; hanging on to expectations creates discontent and struggle, where none need be. I breathe. I let it go. If ‘enough’ truly is enough, then this moment is complete, just as it is. I am safe. It is a quiet still moment. I live. I love. I am loved in return.

I need space, too, and time for stillness.

I need space, too, and time for stillness.

I am okay right now. It’s enough.

The last of twilight is gone. The house is quiet. The aquarium lights are off. There is stillness within, and stillness surrounding me. For many minutes I sat, also still, soaking in the awareness of the quiet, the serenity, the gentleness of the moment itself – neither extraordinary, nor memorable – before turning to words. Those sorts of still moments are so easily missed; it seems wise to savor them when I can, so I sat wrapped in the stillness, breathing, calm, content…really, just enjoying it. Awake. Aware. Compassionate and not judging; observing attentively, present and engaged. Words. Frustratingly, the words don’t do the feeling justice, at all. I am tempted to hit ‘save draft’ and crash for the night… I am not ready for sleep.

Evening light

Evening light

There are more things to consider than things that truly need to be said…or… said by me. Perhaps, tonight, fewer words, and a few more minutes to consider the words already said? More stillness. Some handful of moments smiling in the darkness, this gentle pleasant now a small gift from me, to me – the tiniest down payment on a substantial debt I owe to myself.

Spring flowers and ice.

Spring flowers and ice, a mixed message.

Not even 300 words…but I’ve been writing for more than an hour, pretty continuously. I get so far, then…delete back to the last thing that said…something. Words are failing me this evening. I’m okay with that…and that’s mostly what I am saying; I’m okay. For now. Generally speaking. I feel a feeling of safety built on my own strength, lately. I practice a lot of practices to be here for myself. (I’m not bitching – I’m just saying it’s not a magical transformation born of some ‘aha!’ moment; I’ve been working at this.) It’s been worth it. Start somewhere. Start small. Don’t quit. Enjoy the small changes; eventually the changes don’t seem so small, after all.

It's hard to photograph birdsong...

It’s hard to photograph birdsong…

Oh, hey…Seriously? There’s no magic to any of this. I still have bad days. I still make mistakes. I still struggle with challenges that may not improve much more and require good-natured self-acceptance, a sense of humor, and the will to just keep at it (because change is). I still cry when I’m frustrated. I still feel angry when I am mistreated. It’s all very human; that part just doesn’t change. I think, right now, in this quiet still and very peaceful moment, it’s easy to look past all the hard stuff. It does take practice. There are verbs involved. (Your results may vary.)