Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness for beginners

I woke to the alarm this morning. I slept, I think, through the night. When I woke, my sense of things was that it was exceedingly quiet. The kind of quiet that seems made of anticipation, and held breath. I exhale. I inhale. I breathe. As waking becomes meditation, an almost automatic response to a feeling of ‘dis-ease’ (I remember, too late, the word “uneasy”), my breathing becomes deep, comfortable, relaxed – and reliable. Sometimes I hold my breath without realizing it (maybe that’s a primate thing, or maybe just me, doesn’t matter right now); deep, relaxed breathing, tends to reduce anxiety caused by not breathing. Go figure. 😉

I give myself a few minutes to “get my bearings” and become more completely awake. I am alone this morning. Not just alone-because-I’m-by-myself, but also alone because most everything is precisely where I, myself, have placed it, and where I expect things to be, and also because the bags and baggage of my house guest are no longer here, and stray odd things my traveling partner brought over, with few exceptions, are also returned to their natural places in the world, more or less; they are not here.  Unsettling initially; apparently it takes me about two weeks to get used to having to detour around stuff that isn’t where it ought to be. I’m over that, already, and enjoying the quiet greatly… and will shortly enjoy some music, some early morning housekeeping, a second cup of coffee… and missing my traveling partner. 🙂

Enjoying missing my traveling partner? How does that even work? I don’t have an answer really, but two weeks with a house guest, a new job, new routines, changing personal care needs, having to stock the fridge with foods I don’t eat, not being able to meditate easily when I want or need to, accommodating other musical taste, other agendas, other interests – and often at the expense of my own – and even being nudged uncomfortably into yielding too often to an utter lack of any semblance of planning, or being considered when plans are made in my absence (almost certainly not the actual literal truth, it just often felt that way)… I still miss my traveling partner, and I’m glad (at least in this moment) to have that luxury for some little while. I need a break to care for myself, and figure out just a little more about how to do so skillfully in the face of guests, family, circumstances, employment – all of the things. lol

The quiet this morning is so very… quiet. When I pause to savor this peaceful moment, I notice that I still hear the ceaseless sound of traffic, the commuter train, the hum of the refrigerator, the occasional patter of raindrops… no simple silence this, it is quiet within, as much as it is quiet around me. That’s the quiet that I’m seeking – isn’t it? I’m not really asking, I’m just noticing, not for the first time, that it is the elusive quiet within myself that is so… elusive. Right. I used the word. Sorry – still on my first coffee. I comment quietly to myself how much more difficult this quiet is to build, to linger on, to enjoy, in the typical rush of a busy work week. Coming home exhausted to find a party in progress has some delight to it, but very little quiet. This particular thing, this finding quiet in the storms and bother of a busy adult life, this is the journey. Well… it’s a journey. It is my journey. 🙂 You can have it too, if you want – we can walk on, together, separately. There’s no limit on who takes this journey, there’s no competition over who walks farther, faster, or who reaches the highest height, or purest moment of awareness; there’s no trophy. There’s also nothing to wait for – gear up, my friends! Whether you lace up sneakers or hiking boots, walk slowly with a cane carrying your coffee in the other hand or wearing a fancy name brand hydration pack, if you begin again – and then begin again – and then again – and every time you falter you walk on from what hurts, and you walk on from what doesn’t work, and you walk on because you enjoy your own forward momentum in life, you’ll find the journey unfolds in its own way… your way. 🙂 Don’t worry too much about the destination, it’s a thing that seems to change with fair frequency, and has the least relevance to the step being taken “now”. Now is enough. Are you ready to walk on?

For clarity – it’s a metaphor; most sorts of things I struggle with don’t require a literal departure on foot and miles of walking. 🙂 (Some have…) It’s a favorite journey metaphor, for me, because I do walk so much… perhaps you are a runner, and your metaphor for forward momentum in life is a bit faster? Maybe you travel passionately, and your metaphor involves planes, airports, far away terminals, and distant wilderness unseen by amateur eyes? This adventure called life is “choose your own adventure” on levels so deep that even the metaphors are yours to choose, although I’m delighted to share mine with you. 🙂 I like a handy metaphor.

My phone chimes at me, notifying me of… something. I’ve no idea what. I had my last phone for literally years before I worked out how I wanted all the notifications to sound, and which would be silenced entirely. I’m beginning again. I’ve at least “tamed” them for now; the sounds are pleasant. The sounds are also pretty pointless. For now they communicate nothing much, only that on some form of incoming communication media that isn’t the phone, someone is trying to reach me. LOL I have to check to see whether I want to check to see what it is. Hopefully within days, I’ll know by sound what message app is pinging my consciousness, and whether I care to respond immediately or later, without anything but the notification chime alerting me; it’s a huge savings in mental bandwidth.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

It’s a Monday morning. There are practices that precede the commute. Today, it’s enough to practice. Tomorrow, I can begin again. 🙂

This morning I woke up thinking about a far away friend going through a bad bit. She spoke of fear,and she spoke of feeling mistreated, and she spoke of love, and when she spoke her narrative reminded me of dark times of my own, in past relationships. She’s well-loved, and has many friends. I know there are days she doubts it. I hear her heartbreak, now, reflected in many inconsequential things. I remember mine.

Attachment is a tangled bit of nastiness. I held on, fearful, for so many years in two very long (bad) relationships, and later, a one nearly as vile as the first, that I had the limited strength and fragile-best-effort wisdom to walk away from before I’d exhausted 3 years. (I pause to acknowledge the progress implied there, without being overly hard on myself about the slow learning curve.) I’m very human, love matters so much – and it’s peculiarly difficult to sort out the professed-love-that-isn’t-love-at-all from Love.

I held on because I was afraid. I was afraid to “lose everything” – without actually defining with clarity what it was I thought I was actually holding onto. I apologized when I was victimized, hurt, injured, mistreated, manipulated, and “managed” through cruelty and the withholding of affection. I turned my anger on myself, believing that I had in some fashion “deserved” this treatment – I mean, hey, hadn’t I… something? Didn’t I do… something? No, it wasn’t ever about me, but it took a really long time to figure that out. I needed help with that, too. It was a grim and lonely journey through a lot of chaos and damage.

Rare is that good friend who will look another in the eye and gently say “please take care of yourself, I’m worried about your safety” and “no, actually, I don’t think you deserved that, and I don’t think it’s a given that because your partner says they love you that this gives them a free pass to be cruel, demanding, irrational, violent, mean, confrontational, deceitful, hateful, exploitative…” (or any of the many dozens of other ways human primates can be cruel to one another). Sometimes it’s hard to find the words. Other times we wonder “is it our place”? (It is.) Perhaps we’re not sure about the circumstances, so choose to “stay out of it” rather than be mistaken. Maybe we don’t think it’s “that bad”, or it mirrors our own circumstances and forces us to look to closely into the mirror. It matters that we give voice to our concerns, though; our hurting friends, frightened friends, isolated friends, hell – all our friends need our voices in their moment of darkness, need to know we care, and that they matter – to someone.

You matter. I hope you are reading this over your coffee, or your tea, and that you take just one moment to set aside the hurting and the fear, and accept this one thing, right now; this too will pass. It’s okay to let go of the attachment, and look your worst care scenario right in the face; your thoughts have no substance that you don’t give them. They are free for the taking, to enjoy when they delight us, to educate us about our suffering when they are less delightful. Let your fears unfold their educational narrative in your thoughts, and breathe. Trust your good heart. Take care of you – because you matter. If things are okay right now, take time to just sink into that moment, and enjoy being okay right now. Breathe. Relax. Sip your coffee (tea?). Take a moment for you. This moment. Now. The moment you’ve got – the only moment you’ve really got. Be present for it. (The way out is through.) 🙂

Thank you being a friend. Thank you for listening when I’ve needed to talk. Thank you for sharing your own heartfelt words in a moment of fear and pain, and connecting across miles and years through our common experience as human beings. Emotion and reason. It’s not either or, and can’t be. 😉 I hear you. Other friends hear you. You are heard. You are loved. ❤

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

Today is a good day to begin again. Today is a good day for a journey – a solo hike through life, if you will. There is no map. You’ll be your own cartographer. There will be obstacles, challenges, and life’s curriculum is a stern teacher on some icy mornings of the heart. You’ll probably make some bad choices along the way, or get caught out in emotional inclement weather without an umbrella. There may feel like there are more bad times than good – even when data, real data, would suggest it could be otherwise. It’s a worthy journey, nonetheless, and well… frankly… you have the choice to take it willfully or to drift, but you must make the journey to the conclusion that it offers, or choose another – but the journey is itself is not optional. (You do get to choose your gear.) Ready? It’s time to walk on, Friend. ❤

I woke up later than my idea of early, but while the most of the community is still sleeping on a Saturday. I returned to bed, but failed to return to sleep, and rose to face the sort of heavy gray clouds hanging low overhead that render the phrase ‘overcast’ a joke; this sky means business. The forecast agrees with my impression of the sky, and suggests rain is likely. I’m thinking about the multitude of area farmer’s markets and wondering whether the trip downtown (today) feels worth the time commitment. The nearer farmer’s market is also quite a nice one, having its own character entirely.

I hear the rain begin, a soft tapping on the tall meadow grasses beyond the window. I hear the distant persistent wail of a freight train, so far away it is mixed like a… a good metaphor escapes me; I am listening.

the view of a rainy day

Gray autumn sky overhead, and the day begins.

My thinking seems fuzzy and distracted by the many sounds this morning; geese overhead, raindrops falling more steadily, that train way over there somewhere, the unfortunately rather ceaseless sound of traffic on the nearby road, birdsong, crows conversing, all mixing in my awareness as a sort of blended, endless, buzzing, humming, lowing, rumbling… noise. As noises go, it’s quiet, and very much in the background aside from the crows, whose morning planning meeting on the lawn appears to have run long. 🙂 In this moment, the noise in the background is not an irritant, merely the soundtrack of morning.

rain

Yep. Raining.

It’s definitely raining. The patter of raindrops on leaves is quite audible now. Nice for the garden. I pause and really look out across the meadow, to the trees on the far side of the park, see that the leaves are beginning to turn. Autumn is coming. The leaves of gold and amber, hints of red or orange here and there, tell me it’s true and not just an impression on a chilly morning. I still have the windows and patio door open. It’s too soon for heaters, barely chilly enough for sweaters, and the cool morning breezes with the intoxicating scent of petrichor are delightful. The rain is back! I smile and breathe deeply.

Writing is "inactive" time... so is reading, meditating, and quietly inhaling the scent of a rain morning. There is so much to enjoy in life that requires us to take a moment of stillness. :-)

Writing is “inactive” time… so is reading, meditating, and quietly inhaling the scent of a rain morning. 

It’s been a busy week, filled with stressors that didn’t quite become a bother, and one that did. None of it seems very “real” right now, sitting by the window, contentedly gazing out the window to the meadow and marsh beyond. Any small adjustment in position reveals new things about a new day: a duck sitting just at the edge of my patio, runners on the path just beyond the playground, a cat patrolling the edge of the meadow, a raccoon mother leading her young home after a night out, songbirds taking a moment in a nearby tree, an egret stepping through the marsh gently, and even the ever-changing cloudy sky, as the clouds shift and roil into a smooth homogeneous gray. These are nothing to do with me, directly, they’re only observations through a window. Verbs, changes, choices – but not mine. I am only observing the verbs, changes, and choices of other creatures, which is my choice in this moment, and observation my only verb (trust me, my fitness tracker is pretty firm with me that writing is “inactive” time, which suggests rather pathetically that writing is not a serious verb 😉 lol). I am, however, changed – and changing.

Another perspective on rain drops and roses...

Another perspective on rain drops and roses

This moment of calm contentment and observation is a practice that I love, and it has proven to be quite powerful. It’s one I want most to be skillfully able to share, this idea of being engaged and present in this moment, right here, observing, aware, awake. It’s a meditation of sorts, I suppose, but perhaps more a state of being? When I meditate, as in seated on a cushion meditating, my observational awareness is directed mostly within, although I am also aware of my environment and surroundings, because otherwise how mindful am I really? This other thing, this “being engaged and present in this moment”, is a little different. My observational awareness is simply awake, aware, present, and engaged in living life. A letting go of over thinking and planning in favor of being and doing describes it some…

raindrops on roses

Is it the difference between saying “stop and smell the roses” and doing it? I think so. Today is a good day to test that theory. 😉

I pause awhile, considering my words, and I am again drawn into the sounds of morning. Where will today take me? Where will I take the day? I sip my coffee and wonder if those are entirely different questions, different ways of asking the same thing, or really not at all different aside from word order. My brain playfully suggests perhaps this is important enough to spend a lot of time on…? I sense an “inner child” eager to distract me with delights, and reluctant to follow through on adulthood this morning. After all – it’s raining! I breathe, and pull my attention back to this moment, here, now. I breathe in the fresh scent of rain. I listen, really listen, to the sounds of it: spattering raindrops, rivulets in rain gutters, tires on wet roadway.

IMAG8161

Today is a good day to be, and to become. Today is a good day for a journey built on choice – and built on change. Today is a good day to be here, now.

…And the rain comes, no mistake. Right now it is a steady downpour. Change is. I sit back and enjoy the rain while it lasts. Impermanence also is, and this moment, here, now, is enough.  🙂

 

I sat for some time at the patio window, meditating. It wasn’t a fancy moment, just very chill and quiet and comfortable. Enough. Noise, excitement, adventure, the going, the doing, all these things have their place; I also love stillness. There are things to be found in the stillness, alone on a meditation cushion. It doesn’t require fancy props, or tapes of soothing voices rambling pleasantly, or very strict adherence to specific posture or breathing techniques, and it’s quite free – as in, no financial cost. It’s odd that it was so late in life to find my way to this specific practice. I’m glad I finally did.

Perspective matters. I often find it here. ;-)

Perspective matters. I often find it here. 😉

Now and then a friend asks about my meditation practice. They’ve tried, and it “didn’t work” for them, or they didn’t understand the peculiarities of some branded practice of meditation. Too complicated. Too hard. No time. Until as recently as 4 years ago, I would have said “meditation doesn’t work for me”, too. It’s true that what I was doing that I was calling meditation was not doing for me the things that meditation could purportedly do. It was a pretty big deal to understand that there is more than one contemplative practice to choose from that can be called meditation, and some of them are pretty interchangeable (outcome-wise), others less so. Some are an easy fit for my lifestyle, others less so. There are experts who write about them all.  Still… the basics are pretty basic… Start with a moment.

This moment.

This moment.

Just breathe. Take a moment for you. Sit comfortably. Be aware of your breathing. Let your thoughts drift past without investing in them, or interacting with them, as though from a distance. Breathe. Deeply. Comfortably. Focus on being aware – of your breath, of how you feel, of your emotions. Observe yourself without judgment. If you find your mind wandering, bring it back to your breath. Again. And again. It’s a practice. It doesn’t have to be fancier than that. My results vary. There are verbs involved. It’s enough. 🙂

I woke to the sound of rain falling. Although the drenching shower has diminished to a friendly patter by the time I sit down with my coffee, I’ve enjoyed it. I have no firm expectations of the behavior of rain, beyond that it will, at some point, fall. I’m a pluviophile; I enjoy the rain.

Whether I like rain or not, there’s no stopping it when it comes time for rain to fall. I can stay indoors, if I choose. I can venture forth, it’s another choice. Generally the choice is entirely my own, today I have an appointment. “Letting it rain” is more an approach to the inevitability of rain, which I can’t control at all. I breathe the scent of it. I enjoy the splendor of rain drops, all their forms, all their sizes. I enjoy the peculiar alterations to just about everything touched by the rain, transformed for a time. I treasure rainy days.

Raindrops on roses.

Raindrops on roses.

This morning, I’ll take my coffee by the patio door, comfortably seated on my meditation cushion, watching the rain fall. It is a lovely moment, and very much enough. 🙂