Archives for posts with tag: incremental change over time

I am sipping my coffee after a very good night’s sleep, and waking with relative ease to the sound of the alarm. I am in pain this morning, and so stiff that I’m more than a little grateful that my bed doesn’t rest on the floor – how would I get up? Sometime after the shower that eases some of the stiffness, and the yoga that moves that process along, and the meditation that insulates my nervous system and emotions from the battering the world may (or may not) deliver later, I am sipping my coffee and letting my mind coast…

Humble beginnings; the herbs in my garden have the power to change an entire meal.

Humble beginnings; the herbs in my garden have the power to change an entire meal.

I find myself considering how often the movies deliver to us a Hero (or more rarely a Heroine) who is somehow ‘The One’ – the only being in the right place, at the right time, with the right skills and a dash of good fortune and great sidekicks. They rarely seem aware they are The One. It takes persuasion, convincing, sometimes even force to get them to understand that ‘everything’ depends on them. Heroes are humble like that. At some point in any good tale, the Hero has some sort of awakening moment, at which point he (or she) recognizes ‘the truth of it’ and goes forth to save the day – with some luck, and the help of their trusty sidekicks. Most of us have a sidekick or two in life, someone – a friend, a family member, a work buddy, a lover – who is reliably ‘there for us’ when we need emotional support. Most often, we (and by we I mean ‘me’) don’t seem aware that we’re the hero of the story…that we are, in our own narrative, The One. So far so good in hero territory, I suppose…only…where’s that moment of awakening, when we each take on the world – or at least our own circumstances – and solve the puzzle, master the challenge, clear the hurdle, or conquer our foe? There’s a metaphor here, but there is also something very directly real and true in it. We do well to be our own heroes, and to embrace our opportunity to be The One in our own experience.

Remember Keanu Reeves, in The Matrix, that moment where he begins to do his virtual training in the matrix, learning to fight, to fly, all that? When did you last take your own education so seriously that you plugged into a machine and just went for it – for hours, or days, or years if it takes that? (It’s those damned verbs, again!) How much time do you put into becoming the person you most want to be, investing  your will in that endeavor with mindful deliberately chosen actions? I know I could do more, myself, and within the thoughts I find the questions that light the way along the path ahead.

Be ‘The One’. Be ‘The One’? What does that even mean, really? I hear it, and I feel a certain implicit understanding of the thing…but that’s hardly enough to manifest a change, is it? Being ‘The One’ in my own narrative, the hero of my own experience, implies that I value myself as worthy – even in my humblest bumbling and fumbling and inept moments, even as I learn things I didn’t know previously, even as I swing and miss, even as I try – when I meant to do. Being ‘The One’ in my own story means trusting the hero to save the day – all the while aware that I am my own hero, and saving the day clearly means there will be verbs involved, and as in any exciting hero’s tale, I will likely get it wrong once or twice, bring my world to the brink of disaster perhaps, but always finding my way at the last minute. Or something very like that.

Isn’t it okay to grow and learn and change? Isn’t incremental change over time part of the process of healing and growth? How much more easily will I make progress if I am seeing myself as the hero of the story – and actively investing in my further growth, trusting that the journey will take me where I most need to go, and accepting my missteps along with my great triumphs as being part of the experience all along? Yes, it is okay – totally okay. I know the truth of it, even as I struggle sometimes with the reality of how many damned verbs really are involved, and how relentlessly continuous the journey can sometimes feel. Being ‘The One’ has immense power to heal and transform and bring change…but there’s rarely a great prophet around to tell us who we are when we most need to hear it – making us, once again, ‘The One’ – the one with the message to the woman in the mirror.

A beautiful sunset, a cherished experience.

A beautiful sunset, a cherished experience.

I enjoyed last evening in the company of a friend. The conversation went a lot of places, and as with some friends more than others, the conversation was fairly ‘deep’. I woke this morning from dreams filled with reminders of things said, feeling inspired, and experiencing a deeper understanding of what being ‘The One’ in my own experience may require of me in will, and in action. I’m not likely to save New York City from disaster…or to save the world from alien invaders…but I very easily could be ‘The One’ who saves the day – my day – probably from me. 🙂

I take a moment, sipping my coffee, to appreciate how many times friends become sidekicks when I most need one, and how often sidekicks turn out to be great prophets revealing that particular truth I most need to hear. Today is a good day to be grateful for the connections I share with people – we are each so very human, each having our own experience – each the hero of our own adventure story – it’s quite wonderful when we connect, overlap, share the moment – and save the world.

Here it is another Friday, another weekend approaching, and I am eagerly looking forward to evening plans both tonight and tomorrow. The merriment of evenings spent in good company is delightful, and a worthy way to spend time. It’s also important that I don’t neglect the woman in the mirror; she and I will be hanging out, pretty much 24/7, and she has needs that must be met, regardless what fun is on the agenda for the weekend.

I sometimes get wrapped up in life’s fun, and find myself inclined to stray from the work of keeping the ‘fun machinery’ in good working order. I enjoy reading, writing, painting, gardening…on hot days long hikes are less appealing…as is breaking a sweat, generally, at all. lol. Here’s the thing, though, and no excuses – if I don’t get the exercise I need, my health is not as well-cared for as it might be – and I just get less done. Then I start gaining weight, too. There’s a balance to be struck, and that balance requires some verbs. [Okay, a lot of verbs!] It is so tempting, after a long work day, to put my feet up with a book, or my sketchbook, or take a seat here at my desk…and…relax…every day. Lacking exercise, that’s going to be hard on my chair pretty quickly, followed by hard on my poor feet, my wardrobe, and my bank account.

Bees are a common metaphor for busy-ness, commitment to purpose, or work ethic... I sometimes find  one of the challenging verbs is the one involved in grabbing a verb in the first place. :-)

Bees are a common metaphor for busy-ness, commitment to purpose, or work ethic… I sometimes find one of the challenging verbs is the one involved in grabbing a verb in the first place. 🙂

Why am I on about this, this morning? I gained a handful of pounds over the past few weeks of very hot summer weather, is all, and I’m irked with myself. 🙂 The past couple days I’ve been making a point of walking farther in the mornings, and doing yoga after work before I do anything else. There’s a system of thinking involved; and I took a moment to observe that allowing myself a bit too much slack regarding getting the exercise I need seems to coincide with a slightly less firm commitment to housework tasks I don’t personally favor (although I like the outcome), and a willingness to let things slide more than I am really comfortable with – even for a day or two. I am learning to ‘manage my injury’ differently over time, and I am learning to… ‘parent myself’? I guess that’s a good way to consider it. I am finding it easier to be less self-indulgent without treating myself poorly, or hurting my own feelings…and I am learning how urgently important it is, living alone, to be just a bit strict with certain practices that relate specifically to the things that must be done, and gently preserve some of the things I love doing, as more appropriately waiting until self-care tasks are handled. Setting priorities with myself, and limits, and taking myself to task without self-deprecation, or emotional abuse, is challenging – but it is the life lesson before me now.

A 'coffee flower' - each as unique as any other flower. I enjoy their brief existence, blossoming as I make my coffee, gone in an instant.

A ‘coffee flower’ – each as unique as any other flower. I enjoy their brief existence, blossoming as I make my coffee, gone in an instant.

 

I smile at the woman in the mirror between scrubbing the bath tub and making my coffee. “Welcome to adulthood.” I say it aloud, and with a smile – yes, yes, there are dishes to do every day, vacuuming, and a bed to make (because it is my preference), trash to take out, laundry to do…letting any of that pile up is quite precisely not my idea of ‘living beautifully’.

"Natural area" - unkempt beauty has a place...that place is not the kitchen, bath or living room. :-)

“Natural area” – unkempt beauty has a place…that place is not the kitchen, bath or living room. 🙂

 

Nagging myself with my ‘To Do List’ lost its effectiveness at some point recently. Why isn’t important; sometimes I learn to tune out something that matters. I move my daily task list any time it begins to fail me. It was once on paper. Later, it was a Word document, in outline form – that worked for a long time, because when I sat down to write, or catch up with the world, it was staring me in the face. Some time later, that also stopped working – so I moved it to an Excel file until that also stopped working. At one point in life I used sticky notes, but eventually stopped reading them. More recently I began using the Tasks feature on my Google calendar, that’s been quite exceptionally useful for a good long time…but… guess what? It’s time to move on, because my wily brain has become skilled at comfortably removing it from view to ‘get back to it later’, without ever actually following up. Mostly, everything that needs doing still gets done in a timely fashion – because I am committed to living beautifully and treating myself well. Still, the Tasks feature is no longer keeping me focused and engaged…so…now what?

Persistence pays off. Incremental change over time requires...time (and practice). We can begin again. And again.

Persistence pays off. Incremental change over time requires…time (and practice). We can begin again. And again.

I’ve begun putting an event on my calendar scheduling myself to “Live Beautifully”, on days when I have a need for reminders. It’s specific and time limited. In the event details I simply list some handful of specific tasks that do need to be done, that very day, to hold up my end of my commitment to living a beautiful life. Living alone, it’s all on me – the person I let down if I don’t follow through is me, too. I have reached a place in my life where taking care of my own needs is far more than a personal commitment, a necessity, or a responsibility… There’s more to it than that. I often feel as if I am ‘crafting my experience’ in a willful and deliberate way, with real consideration, and aware that how I treat myself actually matters to me. I am responsible for a lot the details of how my experience feels to me. Simple things from understanding that if I like the way carpet feels on bare feet that I must embrace the requirement to maintain that experience by vacuuming, and keeping the place ‘picked up’, to reminding myself to take care of that last dish, from that last beverage, before I go to bed – if I want to enjoy the experience of waking up to a completely tidy kitchen in the morning. Details. Exploring what I enjoy most about the experience of living my life puts more of the responsibility of doing the things to make the most of my experience in my own hands; knowing what I need and how to provide it for myself makes me utterly responsible for doing so. The verbs are inescapable.

Each mighty oak begins small and grows.

Even a mighty oak once needed room to grow.

So, this morning, I sip my coffee and think of the evenings to come – and how I will plan my time for the weekend, so that my goals and needs are also attended to. My calendar is open, my time commitment to living beautifully being planned around my social evenings…welcome to adulthood, indeed. Don’t forget to start the dishwasher. 🙂

I woke this morning, early, with a stern parental shout still ringing in my ears from my dream, “Slow down in this house! It’s not a race!” I turned off the alarm before it went off, and got up – making a point to indeed actually slow myself down; there’s simply no need to rush.

I make a point of planning my time so that I don’t need to rush in the mornings. This morning I made a point to really take that one to heart in a more mindful way, not just by counting on having more minutes before departure time, but also seriously slowing myself down. Meditation without a timer. Lingering in the sensuous warmth of the shower. Brushing my teeth awake and aware, and enjoying the sensation of tooth-brushing-as-a-process. Letting the casual touch of hand to skin as I dressed become something more like an appreciative caress. I spend a lot of a time with the woman in the mirror – I have no good reasons for treating her poorly, dismissively, or in any way lacking affection. I am enjoying the morning, slowly, patiently, attentively.

Making my coffee this morning became a further exploration of mindfully caring for myself. No stress. No pressure to achieve perfection. That’s not at all the point of mindful self-care; it’s just about being right here, right now, doing these things with great care, and great awareness, savoring the processes of life, itself. My coffee is exceptionally good today, without any particular additional effort; I simply made a point of showing up ‘in person’ – real, and awake, and aware, and comfortable with doing this thing, right now, with my whole attention.

A great coffee in the morning is a practice, a ritual, a measure of time, and a way to take care of me.

A great coffee in the morning is a practice, a ritual, a measure of time, and a way to take care of me.

Right now, too. This process is the one about writing a few words in the morning, getting my intellect and my heart synced up for the day, and moving forward together – if not with some plan in mind, at least able to capitalize on what I am learning, and able to understand that there is always more to this than what I think I know, and that we are each having our own experience. This moment in the morning, when I am most likely to write, is my opportunity to reflect, to gain perspective, and to do it in a safe space with good ground rules that protect me from poor practices, OPD, and self-defeating rumination. (When I write in the evenings, it is often because I am in emotional pain, and reacting to circumstances using any practical tools at hand to get a grip on myself – it’s quite different.) When I sit down very inspired, I sometimes fail myself on practicing good self-care practices, losing myself in the moment, slumped over my keyboard, leaning into the visual space of the monitor, typing away aggressively, enthusiastically, brains spilling all over fingers, becoming words – this morning, although I feel inspired, I approach my desk, and this process, with consideration for this fragile vessel. I begin with deliberation, and deep breaths. I am attentive to my posture. The resulting writing may not be of any different quality – but my back hurts less, I am making fewer spelling mistakes, and struggling less with my dying mouse.

When I rush through things, I make more mistakes, miss details, and feel a greater sense of urgency that generally becomes a more noteworthy amount of stress. This is an important detail, this morning; it is Monday. Time to get back to work after a long weekend. Definitely having the sense that my employer may have begrudged me the time I needed for me, there’s the temptation to rush into things. I could have gotten up quickly, thrown on my clothes after a bracing shower, and quickly marched into the office to become a good productive cog in the corporate machinery, getting a ‘head start’ on all the work I had ‘fallen behind’ on… just thinking the thoughts got my heart racing a little, my breathing became more shallow, my body began to prepare for fight or flight… Shit, it’s just a job! It does not require all that. So – yes. I slowed things down this morning, because there’s no reason to rush; it’s not a race. Remember ‘the rat race’? Sure, it’s still going – it’s a real thing, and lots of people participate, consuming themselves over the course of a lifetime for whatever pittance is paid to them for their trouble. My opinion? No amount of cash is enough to sacrifice the pleasure of really living life. Even my work suffers, when I rush myself. So… I’ve stopped racing. I’ll just walk this one, thanks. (It’s not as if there were ever any chance of ‘winning’ the rat race. “The cake is a lie.”) 🙂

Time well-spent following my own path.

Time well-spent following my own path.

The weekend was lovely. Long forest hikes among lush greenery, on twisting paths, up hills, and down…and relaxed evenings spent on creative endeavors. It mattered to get out among the trees. It mattered to have the powerful reminder in the ever-present sounds of distant traffic that the thing I was trying to escape is something I carry with me. It mattered to take a few days just for me, no interruptions from work, or routine communication from loved ones, or urgent pressure to get this or that done. My only fixed agenda being to take the very best care of me. It mattered to me to spend time sketching, writing, painting. I sought stillness – and I found it. Strangely, I found it at home, and within myself, to my very great delight (after the frustration of discovering I could not easily escape the sounds of traffic)…and yes, there are verbs involved (and my results varied).

The journey doesn't always take me far from home.

The journey doesn’t always take me far from home.

I reset my expectations of myself over the weekend. Had some important conversations with the woman in the mirror about how she makes use of her time. Set some important boundaries with myself about time, and what I want most of that precious limited commodity. When I am feeling more than usual stress, the easy thing is more distractions: YouTube videos, favorite t.v. shows, movies, Facebook… I can kill a lot of time with any one of those things. There’s no constructive point, later, in moaning about “not having enough time for me” if I am letting brain candy soak up those minutes of lifetime that could be spent meditating, relaxing in a hot bath, gardening, writing, reading, enjoying the company of friends in my actual presence doing some actual thing… It’s down to the verbs and the choices. It is sometimes necessary to slow myself down, to be aware of how quickly the time does pass. Being rushed stresses me out…slowing things down generally has quite the opposite result, and I face Monday feeling calm and prepared, unworried, patient with myself and the world, and feeling well-rested and well-cared-for. I found the stillness in the spaces between other things, once I slowed down enough to notice it waiting for me there.

A helpful change in perspective, and time spent listening deeply to my own heart, is a good place to find inspiration - and stillness.

A helpful change in perspective, and time spent listening deeply to my own heart, is a good place to find inspiration – and stillness.

Today is a good day for stillness, for calm, and for slowing things down long enough to savor both in the moment. Today is a good day to enjoy living life – without rushing through to the end. Today is a good day to decline urgency, in favor of appreciation, and to refuse to be hurried in order to enjoy right now. Today is a good day to slow down enough to enjoy the world.

 

 

I could as easily ask ‘what time is love?‘ – same answer: at the tone the time will be…’now’. It’s always ‘now’, actually, and never any other moment…unless, I suppose, we count the possibility of time travel, or perhaps the influence of huge quantities of certain hallucinogens. So… sure, okay, a few things may shake the unavoidable ‘now’…but…generally…’now’ is the time. Here we are. This is it. Whatever it is…it is.  This morning, ‘now’ came early – at 3:17 am, actually. I turned off the alarm once it was clear I was definitely entirely awake, and headed for the shower.

It’s still ‘now’. A shower, yoga, meditation and preparing coffee…and although it is later, it remains very much ‘now’. I can look ahead…it’s still simply ‘now’. I can look back…still, here I am, fixed firmly in the ‘now’ moment. Wherever I turn, ‘now’ is what I really have to work with. It’s not that the future is unaffected by ‘now’ – it is most definitely affected by ‘now’; every choice I make ripples through my future. Even the past is altered by ‘now’; my perspective changes with experience, with new information, with the passage of time itself. Still, however busy life is, all I have to work with, to enjoy, and to live is ‘now’.

Taking a few moments to consider an idea.

Taking a few moments to consider an idea.

What time is it? Right now it’s coffee time. My coffee this morning is quite dreadful. I am considering pouring it out and making a fresh cup. ‘Now’ matters that much; if I am not present in the moment, my actions may not be sufficiently relevant to my needs, and I may be unaware even of what my needs in the moment actually are. Me, personally, at 4:43 am…I need coffee, and frankly, my preference is that it be, if not exceptional, at least quite good. So…now I am going to make a fresh cup of coffee because this one… yeah… it sucks. It’s definitely important to pay attention while making coffee if using something that requires an artful touch, and some precision, as with a pour over. “Paying attention” is one way to describe mindfulness.

Second cup, no second thoughts – and it is still very much ‘now’. That’s how it tends to be – ‘now’. What will I do with the moment? I rarely pause to consider it, I simply do and be much of the time, and I don’t make that observation with any hint of criticism. I find life is to be lived. I strive to live well, and mindfully, and mostly doing so is more pleasant than not, and tends to result in a certain sense of worthiness to the entire endeavor – which seems worth having, and reason enough to work at it attentively, investing in good self-care practices, and learning to cope compassionately with my injury and my damage. ‘Now’ has become a pretty big deal.

Here’s something noteworthy about ‘now’, though – it’s easily wasted. It can slip away in an instant and become hours that have passed me by without action, without effort, without any investment of will and intent, and without significant result, or activity worthy of later recollection (I’m looking at you, television!). I find that almost any moment spent mindfully aware, even the painful ones, and yes, even the ones spent in stillness, meditating or watching clouds drift by, is a moment well spent. I remember more when I am awake, aware, and present. I have the sense that I am doing or achieving more, regardless how much ‘got done’. Life feels lived – as though the noun itself comes alive and gets all verb-y straight away – when I approach it mindfully, aware of my choices, deliberate in my actions. Time itself passes more slowly – and ‘now’ becomes of even greater value, extended, prolonged, and significant.

There’s nothing actually ‘easy’ about mindfulness. It’s also not actually ‘difficult’. It isn’t expensive to pursue it, and it requires no costly memberships or equipment. It need not be attached in any way to profit-generating activities, although it is clearly finding its cultural moment, and along the way many people are finding ways to market mindfulness or profit from it. The current popularity of mindfulness as a word, as a concept, and as an endeavor don’t make it any more likely that people will actually practice the needed practices to become more mindful – though many will say that they will, or do, or are. I don’t worry much about any of that, although I am sometimes frustrated to read articles that seem critical of practices I find have such value, myself. I worry, sometimes, that people innocent of the marketing bullshit, the hype, and the inevitable disappointment of people who expected it to be ‘easy’ or to ‘fix everything’ will result in someone who really needs what mindfulness has to offer not finding their way to it – that was my own experience. I didn’t get ‘here’ sooner; I was distracted by other people losing their way, being discouraged, and because I was discouraged, myself, the first time I was exposed to meditation – there were verbs involved, and more than one sort of practice, and… and… and… it’s not easy! (“Isn’t there some prescription, or…?”)

Mindfulness practices can be very simple and very basic. My own favorite meditation is not any sort of elaborate guided meditation with a soothing voice, lovely visual image, or lofty conceptualization – it isn’t necessary that it be such, and those don’t ‘work for me’ in the sense that although they may be soothing and pleasant, what I need myself is to become very centered, present, and calm within myself. I rely on meditation to keep me from standing on the precipice, to pull me back from the brink of disaster, to clean up the chaos and damage; the only world I am looking to change with any urgency is the world within. My own favorite meditation is simply to focus on my breath, to remain in this ‘now’ moment until I achieve stillness and inner calm. Yes. I have to keep at it. Yes. My mind wanders. Yes. I am sometimes distracted by physical discomfort, noise, stray thoughts, having to pee, and suddenly remembering other things that arise in my recollection attached to a sense of urgency. There’s no rush, no pressure, no report card, no internal criticism; I just keep at it until I do find that inner stillness. If’ I’m uncomfortable, I adjust – and begin again. If I am distracted, I take another breath, and begin again. If I have to pee, I take care of that biological need and begin again. If I remember something important that has been forgotten, I take a note and begin again (and often meditate with a notepad very near at hand for that reason). It’s called a practice for a reason – and there are most assuredly verbs involved.

“Does mindfulness work?” is a question with similar value as “what time is it?” – It really depends on what you are trying to find out. I find mindfulness practices very effective, myself, but the outcome is entirely dependent on my actions, my own investment in practicing the practice, and how well-chosen the practice is for my needs. If I were to discontinue the practice of meditation, would meditation itself be less effective because I stopped practicing it? Um…no. I might be less effective – but it would be a choice I make for myself, not a failure of meditation as a tool or practice.

The Stillness Within

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow 2014

The time is ‘now’. If one practice has failed, try another. If the ‘failure’ is simply a lack of actual practice, easier still – begin again. There are verbs involved, and there is all the ‘now’ in the world to use them. 🙂

 

My morning was delightful. My day was productive. Sometime late in the afternoon a mini-storm of resentment and irritation washed over me and colored the end of my work day a very different shade. I have no idea what set me off, really, but I’m only now – some hours later – taking myself in hand effectively and turning my evening in more pleasant direction.

I slowed myself down as I exited the office, and paused to taste the air, and inhale deeply, before starting down the walk to head for home. It was a lovely afternoon; I had gone for a walk on my lunch break, along the creek, through the trees, nibbling blackberries and trying to catch pictures of dragonflies.

I succeeded in taking a picture of my own foot, without any effort at all, but not one picture of a dragonfly.

I succeeded in taking a picture of my own foot, without any effort at all, but not one picture of a dragonfly.

The blackberries are fat, ripe and very sweet, and the clusters of the best berries often seem to hang just out of reach – some days that very much seems the way of things. I see the words, and I understand it is a matter of my perspective – a sort of emotional ‘trick of the light’.

Are the best ones really out of reach, or do I overlook the wonders at hand gazing into the distance for what is not available to me?

Are the best ones really out of reach, or do I overlook the wonders at hand gazing into the distance for what is not easily available to me?

It was a lovely walk. I noticed a number of things along the way that serve me well this evening, as I let go of my irritation one picture at a time…

...I am reminded that what I see is often very much a matter of...

…I am reminded that what I see is often very much a matter of…

...where I direct my gaze; this picture was taken from precisely the same spot as the prior picture. I looked up, instead of down.

…where I direct my gaze; this picture was taken from precisely the same spot as the prior picture. I looked up, instead of down.

Sometimes it’s such small things that sooth me – or tear me down. I wonder how many times in a day I look into the eyes of another human being without recognizing that although we are each having our own experience…we are also very much in this thing together.

Where will my path take me?

Where will my path take me?

I do my best, every day – mostly – every moment – by some valuations of ‘every’. I could do better sometimes than I do. That’s okay, too. If I notice that I’ve stopped practicing some practice that really works for me when I do it (it doesn’t matter why), I can simply begin again. Letting go of any requirement to berate myself for my fundamental humanity, and recognizing that I need my best care and affection as much as anyone else might… it’s entirely okay to recognize mistakes, misunderstandings, misplaced steps, misspoken words, poor choices, hesitation, doubt, fear, and old-fashioned hand-crafted baggage – it’s all so very human. 🙂 I just begin again. No kidding.

Getting some perspective works for me. I know not every moment of every day can be in the highlight reel.

Getting some perspective works for me. I know not every moment of every day can be in the highlight reel; on the average, things are average.

It’s been quite a week. Highs and lows. New experiences. Work. Love. It’s been a good week, actually. It’s entirely possible that I am simply tired – my injury is such that when fatigue sets in, I am moodier, less balanced, easily irritated, prone to tears, and often also in a lot of pain. This fragile vessel only holds so much. Like a little kid, I can be fussy if I am tired and over-stimulated.

Finding a suitable place to pause and reflect is worthwhile. In the stillness I more easily hear myself, and understand what I need.

Finding a suitable place to pause and reflect is worthwhile. In the stillness I more easily hear myself, and understand what I need.

I am enjoying this sense of being able to reset, and content that I didn’t lose my temper, or fall to pieces – I just experienced a bit of irritation, at the end of a long and busy work day. It feels like an achievement – so I take time this evening and celebrate with a silent high-five with myself, and a relaxed evening. I am okay right now. It’s a nice feeling.

Incremental change is. Practicing the practices works. I'll just stay on this path right here...one step at a time is enough.

Incremental change is. Practicing the practices works. I’ll just stay on this path right here…one step at a time is enough.