Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

This morning I have been gently plagued by a subtle sensation of having overlooked something, or that ‘something is missing’ or forgotten. After some moments, I realized I hadn’t made coffee. Later on, I notice I have forgotten to switch off the burner on the stove. Later still I notice that I was distracted while dressing – and have one fuzzy spa sock on, and one sturdy warm hiking sock. I know one thing with certainty; I have not been starting my day from a mindful place. Fortunately, the solution is both simple and low-cost.. there are, of course, verbs involved. 🙂

Loving begins with the woman in the mirror.

Loving begins with the woman in the mirror.

I slow myself down, taking time to breathe – really breathe, without being distracted by things other than this moment, this breath. I notice the tension in my shoulders, and the eagerness in my approach to beginning the day – sloppy, inattentive, but enthusiastic. I let the tension fall away, breathing, and letting the sensation and experience of breathing be enough to fill this moment. I let my awareness extend and expand, embracing the coziness of my wee home, and the warmth and joy of the beats playing on the stereo – K-Lab “Out the Door” starts the day with energy and movement. Movement becomes dance, and I stay engaged in this moment, allowing my sense of self and place to be fluid, feeling stiff joints begin to move more easily, pain begins to ease, the smile on my face settles into something soft, without edges, fearless and joyful. Dance is another sort of meditation altogether – and I smile, thinking of dancers other than I – ‘real ones’, professionals, committed amateurs of great skill, passionate performers of public art, I am awed by that kind of devotion to an art form – the sort whereby ones entire physical being is transformed almost into another sort of creature entirely. I am not that sort of dancer – I’m the 52-year-old version of a teenager dancing in front of her mirror; I enjoy the way dancing feels and any appearance of skill in any one moment is pure coincidence, and that’s totally okay.

I dance through all manner of small chores: dishes, making up the bed, tidying this and that, cleaning the bathroom. The morning no longer feels like something has been overlooked, and between meditation, and dancing, I find myself feeling ‘reconnected’ to myself, to my own experience, and no longer on auto-pilot. It is a cold morning (outside) and my bones seem to know it, they crack and pop as I move, but the aching isn’t bad today, and I am in less pain than on many other mornings. I consider the matter of ‘auto pilot’ for some minutes, wondering at the balance between needing/using it – and allowing life to slip by on programming that is reliably adequate to pass time but hardly counts as ‘living’. I very much prefer to live life, mistakes and all. It’s taken a while to be certain of that, and there have certainly been some moments when it has been frightening to let go of some long-standing habit I have relied on in order to embrace a truly unscripted authentic experience of living life. Totally worth it.

I sit back for a moment and consider how positive and… good…things have been lately. I find myself wondering a tad insecurely whether I am less interesting without the day-to-day struggling and suffering – followed by a moment of puzzlement afterward that such a worry could even be a thing. I sometimes worry that I may stray into bragging, or smugness, or complacency, or a feeling of superiority – or a sense of having finished this journey prematurely somehow. This quantity of good days is unfamiliar, new territory on this journey of mine – I am unlikely to take it for granted, but words are devilishly subtle, often giving away what seems hidden from the writer’s view. I know that I want to communicate that incremental change over time is a real thing, that we can improve our individual experience of our circumstances – and even our circumstances themselves – and that it is possible to wade through all the chaos and damage to reach another place entirely… but… I very much want to do so in a way that is inclusive, and reaches beyond my own limited mortal experience to some distant point out there, where you are – or someone else – reading these words, looking for something to hold on to, whatever that might be. I want to say ‘You can do this! See? I did… which surely means it is doable!”… I most specifically do not intend a message of  ‘ha ha, look where I got and you aren’t here’ – a message which would be both very cruel, and also a serious indication I hadn’t gotten very far at all, really. I maintain a certain tender concern that I not cause harm through carelessly communicating effortlessness, or ease – there really are verbs involved – but I earnestly also want to shout from the roof tops “you can do this! we all can do this!” hoping someone might feel just a little less alone or discouraged, out there on their own journey through the chaos and damage.

Every morning a new start, every horizon a new destination, and every moment a new experience.

Every morning a new start, every horizon a new destination, and every moment a new experience.

…And, let’s be real, I’m both pleased and grateful to be in this better place than I’ve ever been before. Celebrating that is a worthy thing. I am taking those steps that move life from surviving to thriving – one at a time, with plenty of practice, and pausing to return to mindfulness when I notice that feeling that something is missing. 🙂

A lovely holiday weekend so far, and having to work for a couple of hours in the morning today hasn’t seemed to be a significant downer, so far. My coffee is tasty, well-made, and hot – but also just the right temperature to drink. I’ve been sleeping well, and today woke with very little pain – a relief after yesterday’s more-than-usually painful morning.

I spent Thanksgiving alone; my traveling partner was in too much pain to cross town for the holiday meal. I was prepared for that, having planned the meal from a solitary perspective in the first place. It sucked more that he was in pain than any disappointment he wasn’t attending dinner, honestly. I have never experienced a solitary Thanksgiving meal, and eagerly embraced the spirit of the holiday, even enjoying the holiday cooking, and clean up very nearly as much as the meal itself – which turned out wonderfully. I had wondered if there would be something inescapably blue about Thanksgiving alone. There doesn’t seem to be anything inherently sad or blue about a solitary Thanksgiving. I invested in good self-care practices throughout the day, and treated myself well – I wholly enjoyed the holiday, and enjoyed a festive, celebratory meal. I have a lot to be grateful for in a life worth celebrating.

Before the cooking, a long walk in the chill autumn air.

Before the cooking, a long walk in the chill autumn air.

It was delightful to stay in contact with my traveling partner throughout the day, small conversations about the meal, about the day, about our experience together, sharing photographs and links to things we found relevant or amusing. There is so much technology available now that can connect us more closely, if we choose to use it that way.

Love, challenges, and sharing the journey; there are still verbs involved.

Love, challenges, and sharing the journey; there are still verbs involved.

I woke yesterday considering taking advantage of the beautiful day to take a long hike…then I tried to stand up. So. No hiking was going to happen yesterday – I’d feel fortunate at day’s end if I had been able to do dishes, and dress for the day. I definitely wasn’t going anywhere. I don’t do “Black Friday” shopping, so I wasn’t missing anything in that regard, but it sucked to hurt so badly I couldn’t even consider a hike, or a walk in the sunshine.

I took my time and I took care of myself with care. Yoga happened – slowly, a few minutes at a time, one posture, or another, carefully growing to two, three, more – by mid-day I was more flexible and in less pain. I happily undertook the holiday decorating; the tree fits my apartment! It ended up being a day spent wonderfully well, and ended with a state of contentment quite beyond any words I could share. It’s been a couple of years since I have been able to enjoy an utterly drama-free holiday – but it has been, so far, and it is quite wonderful. There’s been very little stress at all, and none of that at home. “Magical” seems a good description for the holiday season so far… although… it’s hardly fair to begin labeling things two days into it… only… perhaps going into it with wide-eyed wonder, and a perspective of joy, is the best start I could give it?

Choosing joy, and enjoying small pleasures.

Choosing joy, and enjoying small pleasures.

I’d throw more words at you about choices and perspective and verbs; I would be repeating myself. I will say I am reasonably certain, based on other prior life experiences, that I could have chosen to wallow in my insecurities and doubts all day on Thursday, and blown my Thanksgiving holiday experience invested in personal sorrow, mired in chaos and damage. I chose differently – and did so well before the holiday arrived, committing my planning and intention to enjoying the holiday from a new perspective, seeking the value in the differences with openness and enthusiasm. There were verbs involved. There was a requirement to let go of attachment to expectations built on other experiences, and there was also a need to reach for the pleasant qualities, the joy, the values, and to willfully savor the celebration. The outcome was a worthy and quite wonderful holiday. It was not relevant that I was alone; it was one of the best Thanksgivings I’ve been fortunate to enjoy. I learned some things about solitude – and about loneliness – from small adjustments to my perspective.

Today is another adventure, a new one. What will the day hold? I consider the hours of the day that will remain ahead of me when I leave the office… It is a Saturday, a holiday weekend, and there are some holiday touches that haven’t been handled. I need a new wreath for the front door. The one I had, until the move, was specifically selected for the house we all shared, and doesn’t at all suit my current decor, the aesthetic of the neighborhood, or the size of my entry way. This is such a small place – between the lack of storage and the likelihood of spiders moving into any wreath I might hang, I have already decided to put up a wreath of fresh materials that won’t be stored for re-use. A simple fragrant pine wreath of some sort seems ideal, and I find myself wondering if a trip to Saturday Market after work would be fun…

There will be a festive glow to welcome me home in the evening.

There will be a festive glow to welcome me home in the evening.

There are so many simple joys in life. When I am able to approach each day from the perspective of embracing those simple pleasures, simple experiences, and simple moments of beauty, rather than focusing on how to endure the challenges life may present, the joys seem to become more plentiful over time. Today is a good day for joy. Today is a good day to smile at strangers. Today is a good day to be kind, to show compassion, and to remember how very human we each are. Today is a good day to change the world.

“The Holiday Season” is almost upon us*. Well, my idea of ‘The Holiday Season” is almost upon me – I don’t know many people who celebrate quite as I do, quite so enthusiastically. It’s a thing with me. For me, the winter holidays begin with Thanksgiving and continue through to the new year, ending on New Year’s Day, with my personal “One Hour” celebration (a personal tradition that has endured decades through tough times and good times), spent reflecting on the year before, progress made, obstacles, new and old goals, and committing my intentions for the year to come. It’s a whole lot of holiday celebrating, connecting, sharing, and enjoying – and it’s my idea of how such a thing can be experienced.

Even the creatures of forest, meadow, and marsh are getting ready for winter.

Even the creatures of forest, meadow, and marsh are getting ready for winter.

I rarely experience ‘holiday blues’ and I am eager for the holidays this year, utterly unreservedly eager. It’s not about money, I’m stretched pretty thin these days, and I don’t expect to afford a lavish holiday. That’s irrelevant – it really is about the baking of cookies, and the sharing, and the letters, cards, and calls to far away friends and dear ones. It is about having cocoa or cider with friends, more than about presents – although I do love to see the colorful wrapping paper under the tree; I suspect it is the colorful paper more than the contents of the packages that delights me so. It is the meals and memories enjoyed and shared, not the dollar value of the money spent. Yes, I say “Merry Christmas” – and I also say “Happy Holidays”, and most importantly – “welcome to my home” and “I’m so glad to see you”. I am as likely to celebrate Chanukah with Jewish friends or loved ones, or Diwali when it falls ‘within the holiday season’ as to celebrate a holy observance in any other faith; it is the celebration that makes the occasion both special and holy, although my personal experience of Christmas began as the usual mostly secular sort. I would cram the season with observances of all the holidays I can value, honor, and welcome into my own experience – all of them that I know of, I make the attempt. These darker winter months, the metaphorical end of things, are a good time to welcome light and laughter into my home and my heart – and I do it every year, because life reminds me, every year, that there is an end to all things – by bringing winter to my experience.

This is my way of celebrating… so many things… all jumbled together, day over day, week after week. I take time to contemplate life, love, the nature of success, and how fortunate I am. It’s definitely a strong foundation to begin with gratitude and a holiday of giving thanks – and yes, that’s how I celebrate it, I am not hesitant to acknowledge the troubling origin of the holiday, and for me part of that Thanksgiving Holiday is a certain ‘spirit of hospitality’ and accord that sources with the tradition of indigenous Americans welcoming foreigners from across the ocean, helping them settle and survive – and sharing a harvest meal before winter sets in, in earnest. Many years ago, a stranger stranded with a flat tire (that was a thing back then, and not uncommon) stopped at my door to use the phone on Thanksgiving. I invited him in to use the phone. When I over heard him telling his family he would not be home in time for the holiday meal, I made room at my own table, and when he finished his call, invited him to join us. My partner-at-the-time helped the man change his tire while I finished getting dinner to the table. It was a joyous occasion. It seemed the right and proper thing to do, for a stranded traveler on a holiday. Why would I not? (If a list of reasons pops into your head, examine them with care – how many are about fear?)

This year, I’ve been content to look forward to a solitary Thanksgiving holiday. I have been surprised to find that I haven’t been at all blue about it; the menu will suit me perfectly, being entirely only things I enjoy myself. No compromises for tradition or taste. It turns out my traveling partner may be joining me for the holiday meal – which takes me from content and eager, to excited in the time it takes to understand the words. I’ve been smiling ever since. The remainder of the weekend, aside from the bit interrupted by work commitments for a couple of hours on Saturday, will be spent putting up my holiday tree, decorating the apartment, baking fruitcake, and picking out a wreath for the front door.

There’s this grin on my face just now, as I sip my coffee and realize that the winter holidays are something I’ve ‘gotten right’ for many years; I made them my own as soon as I turned 18, keeping what I valued and changing things that didn’t suit me, and have continued to build and enjoy my own traditions and deeper meaning to each feast, each ritual, each calendar date celebrated. At one time, it was the one time of year I took care of me, luxury self-care to the limit of the skills and knowledge I had at the time… once a year. This year, I am doing it with my eyes open, and that makes it all sparkle even more. 🙂

What will you be celebrating with your traditions this year? Something old? Something new? Something for others? Something for you? With enough twinkly lights the darkness can’t win. What a very good time of year to be enough. 🙂

*Almost upon us. I spared you the pictures of Christmas’s past – it’s a bit premature for all that. 😉

I slept in until past 8:00 am, rare for me. I woke shortly before 5:00 am, actually, and chose to lay down to meditate and let morning medication kick in before I got up to have coffee. At some point, I slept. When I did wake and rise to greet the day, it was pleasant to note that my pain and stiffness were not as significant as other recent mornings.

I’ve spent a bit less than an hour sipping my coffee, and watching the autumn sunshine move slowly over the collected drifts of colorful leaves piled against the garden pots on my patio. I’ve got some great grooves playing in the background, and a beautiful day ahead, as yet unplanned. Once or twice I have rather firmly, even sternly, snatched my consciousness back from the edge of work-related matters; I am quite committed to preserving my leisure for my own purposes these days, and that is inclusive of my cognitive resources in my off hours – not one extra thought or care of mine is going to be directed toward the agenda or needs of my job or industry. My employer must pay for my time, and since I am paid to think… well…you see where that goes quite quickly. At this point, even my brain is on board with a day of leisure, and any loitering demons invested in coloring my day with insecurity seem, themselves, to be taking the day off today.

There's a beautiful day ahead, to live, to thrive, to choose - to begin again.

There’s a beautiful day ahead, to live, to thrive, to choose – to begin again.

Anxiety is hard. Insecurity is hard, too. Doubt is also difficult. You know what, though? Letting it go, as difficult as it can seem, is surely no more difficult than the anxiety, the insecurity, and the doubt – and so often it is nothing more than letting the thoughts play on a loop in the background that creates those crappy anxious, insecure, doubt-filled experiences. Since having those experiences requires no practice (for me), putting the actual effort on the challenge of letting those things go makes a lot of sense. The outcome is worth the work; when I began practices of letting things go, and redirecting the flow of my thinking, and simply being mindfully aware, in this moment, just breathing, they were incredibly difficult practices! I had to begin again so many times. The progress seemed so slow. I was often so unsure that I was really getting anywhere, or that it was really helping stabilize me. I look back on more than two years of simple practices, improved self-care, and really taking care of the woman in the mirror… it’s not as difficult as it once was to give myself compassion, consideration, respect – to treat myself well day-to-day – and to be able, with relative ease, to redirect my thinking instead of allowing negative thinking and internal abuse to overtake me. Incremental change over time. We become what we practice. 🙂 (Yes, even you, over there – yes, you, the one struggling right now, and feeling maybe I don’t get it, can’t understand, and it won’t work for you. Even you – it’s just that practice is required, and there are verbs involved. You can begin again. Yes, and again tomorrow. And even after that. Change happens when we choose change. If this moment, right here, is that bad – you can walk on to the next moment, even if you must do so in a literal way to get the feel of it.)

Walk your own path, choose your own verbs, and build your own practices.

Walk your own path, choose your own verbs, and build your own practices.

A lovely autumn Saturday stretches out in front of me. My coffee is almost gone and what’s left is cold. Falling autumn leaves twisting in the sunshine as they drop are as the second-hand of some strange earth-clock, reminding me that the day progresses…and I’m still in comfy clothes and fuzzy spa socks. Where will today take me?

Today is a good day to enjoy exploring the world. I’ll get my coat…

 

The work day is over. I’m home after a quiet walk through the park in the increasing darkness of earlier nights. It was a chilly walk, and too dark for good pictures of the attention-getting sights or moments with my camera phone. I arrived home content, and mostly comfortable.

Coming home feels good.

Coming home feels good.

There’s nothing fancy about this particular experience of evening; I am writing while I heat up leftover Chinese food from last night. I smile thinking about the luxury of dinner for two, delivered, and the time shared munching, and laughing over comedic quiz shows. Last night was lovely. Tonight is, too. I consider the evening ahead – there are some shows I have planned to watch, but as so often happens, it isn’t really what is on my mind right now…dinner…writing…yoga…a shower…meditation…the simple basics of a life spent mostly practicing practices that build contentment. I’ve found myself standing in the middle of ‘happy’ an astonishing number of times since I stopped chasing it so desperately.

It’s been quite a distance to come on this peculiarly personal journey… the map gets bigger and more detailed as I become more the woman I most want to be, and tidy up ancient chaos and damage. The map is still not the world. I pause to stir dinner, hoping to avoid scorching it before it entirely heats through. I smile when I think about not having a microwave; of the many modern conveniences of life, it is one that isn’t very meaningful or necessary for me. I’d much rather have the bathroom light on a motion sensor, personally. It’s an aesthetic preference, perhaps, or one of the tiny details of life and choices that deceive us into thinking we’re really very different from everyone else who is also  human. lol

Dinner is almost ready. I pause for a moment and think about how very good things are, generally. I pause and really let that sink in, and enjoy it – and let the small things fall away, in favor of a perspective that puts the greater value on what feels good, and works, and makes me smile. It’s a nice evening to smile about the things that work. That’s enough.