Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

One Foggy Winter Morning

February 9, 2020 //
0

I woke before dawn. As daylight began to shift the darkness to light, a foggy damp morning begins to reveal itself. Colder than yesterday, but not icy, probably a good one for an early walk, I think to myself, rather unenthusiastically, as it happens.

I consider the morning, and the moment.

I sip my coffee, dressed for walking. Yesterday it took a peculiarly long time to “talk myself into it”, and strangely, I was still halfheartedly trying to excuse myself from not going for a walk, although I feel better, and enjoy my day more, when I hit the trail for a couple of miles. That time alone with my thoughts, free of media inputs and other consciousnesses, is more than valued; it is part of what keeps me mentally and emotionally well. Dodging the effort is not a helpful thing. So, out I went. I returned home feeling sated, refreshed, and accomplished; 3 miles felt comfortable. The hill is no longer daunting, it’s just a hill.

This morning, I know I’ll go. Soon. I’ll finish this coffee, and lace up my boots, grab my cane, and go. I may drive up to the path along the Columbia river, this morning. Seems a lovely morning for it.

The morning continues to lighten, as the day develops, quietly.

There is so much disappointing chaos, corruption, and madness, in the world right now. I sometimes find it terrifying. I nearly always find it disheartening. I walk in the mornings, listening to bird song and breezes, and the sound of my footsteps, and let all of that go for at least a couple miles, and a handful of pleasant moments. The weekends feel shorter without the walks. Funny how this time spent with – and for – myself can seem to “stretch time”. I breath, exhale, and relax. I feel the hint of a smile on my face.

…Nice morning for walking…

My mind wanders pleasantly to the Spring ahead. Is it too soon to plan that first camping trip? Where would I go? The coast? The forest? Will the end of March (specifically, the Vernal Equinox) be too soon? (I don’t much like camping if the evenings/nights are cold; it makes my bones ache.) The winter has been strangely mild, perhaps the Spring will be unusually warm? (It may be unusually cold…) I smile at my own eagerness, sipping my coffee and delaying the start of my walk, to consider walking elsewhere, weeks from now. I am amused, without irritation, at the implied internal conflict. This morning, I am gentle with myself, uncritical, and unhurried. There is time for meditation. Time for coffee. Time for the outside temperature to warm up another degree or two. There is even time to recharge my wearable device, so handy for tracking my mileage.

I contentedly dilly-dally over my morning coffee, savoring the morning quiet. I appreciate it, and it is enough.

Mindfulness, perspective, & sufficiency: ingredients for a lovely morning.

I finish my coffee and lace my boots. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Start Small, Keep Practicing

February 4, 2020 //
0

I’m sipping my morning coffee thinking about pandemics. lol Weird start, but whatever; it’s starting point enough for the purpose. 😉

Most of us will not ever have the chance to address an outbreak of disease, or some scary new pandemic virus, by curing it. The odds are against that, for sure; few of us are those doctors, scientists, or researchers, even if we happen to be, generally speaking, doctors, scientists, or researchers. Just saying. It’s a bit like football; lots of people love the game, few of those make it to the NFL to play it. So… what chance does a “regular person” have to seriously fight disease? Well, how about all the small things any of us can do? Washing our hands thoroughly, and regularly. Always having well-washed hands to prepare food. Covering coughs and sneezes (no, for real though, and not just putting up a hand and creating a “cone of death” to blow germs past). Taking exceptional care of our own health, and the health of loved ones too young to do so themselves. Keeping a clean kitchen. A clean home environment. Avoiding endlessly re-using glasses, mugs, cups, and other drinking vessels, and eating utensils. Avoiding and controlling insect vectors. Avoiding the spread of zoonotics. (Yes, including not allowing your own dogs to lick your mouth, and washing your hands after emptying litter boxes or cleaning up shit or vomit. Seriously, people, what the hell?) All of these small steps matter for controlling the spread of disease. We may not, individually, have much shot at being the person who cures a deadly virus, but we can sure be part of controlling its spread, through our individual commitment to good health practices. It’s small, but it’s truly something we can each accomplish, and it’s a worthy endeavor.

So… having said that… You may not be able to cure “anger”, but there are practices you can practice that result in experiencing less of that, and in being less easily provoked to anger. 🙂

A lot of things, actually, work this way; there are small steps, small actions, simple practices, and a journey of incremental change over time, that any one of us can make. Meditation. Exercise. More nutritious healthy eating habits. Education. Emotional resilience. Small changes still result in change. Practices, being practiced, change who we are. Sure, it’s slow, and it’s small, and it can seem inconsequential, until that moment arrives when change, having been made, becomes obvious. 🙂

It’s actually a pretty pleasant thought, on a pretty pleasant Tuesday morning; I can make big (future) changes by way of small changes in my practices (right now). The choice to practice being the person I most want to be is mine to make, in every moment. If I miss my mark in this moment, there’s another moment yet to arrive – and I can give it another go, then. More practice? More skill. Over time, change is made. That seems almost effortless as words on page, and I don’t want to mislead anyone; there are verbs involved. Real effort. A commitment to change reflected in real choices, not just wishful thinking. I get it wrong, a lot. I suppose most people do. I keep at it; the things I most want to be, I keep making that attempt, knowing that eventually, I’ll get there. The things I most want not to be, I practice not doing/being those things; I practice what is antithetical to those things, on my path to becoming something quite other than that. Best to keep an eye on the general direction of such progress; it would not do to become something worse. 🙂

The morning unfolds with my thoughts. I check the time. I was up early, and have a moment for a second coffee at home, before the drive to the office, downtown. I feel rested. Relaxed. I feel an ease sense of readiness, for the day ahead. I like the feeling, so I sit with that awhile longer. 🙂 And after this moment of contentment? I’ll begin again. 🙂 It’s always a good time for more practice. 😉

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being

Breathe, Exhale, Relax

February 2, 2020 //
0

It seems such a simple thing, after a while (meditation, I mean). Breathe, exhale, relax, present in this “now” moment, focused on my breath. I queue up a playlist that feels right for the moment (sometimes just sounds of rain, or the trickling of a stream, other times, as with this morning, a long mix of something “atmospheric”, today it is deep, heavy, luscious, lazy, with a relaxed easy beat). I let go of ego and worry and all the bits and pieces of “thinking” and just go with breathing. Meditation doesn’t require anything particularly fancy. It doesn’t cost money. It does take time, a little, and practice – not as much of that as one might expect, to get started down the path, and eventually, the practice is just a thing I do. 🙂

I woke early this morning. I didn’t have to be up, and it is, as yet, too dark outside to be certain whether the morning will be suited to walking. Yesterday wasn’t, and it was disappointing, although the day itself was quite lovely and well-spent.

Now here’s another new day, another new beginning. I start it with coffee, and with meditation. I read awhile. I sit down later (and here we are!) to wander through my thoughts and write a few words. The music plays on. I think of dear friends. I think of the day ahead. I think of the peculiar weather this year. I think of what to do about dinner later. I think about the pain in my back, which reminds me to correct my posture, to breathe, to exhale, to relax. I let go to the immediate hope that “it won’t be too bad today”, knowing that such wishes become expectations, which become a colossal let down later on. Pain is pain. I’ve still got a life to live, and I’ll do my best with that, as long as I am able. 🙂

The music plays on. My body rocks with the beat. My fingers on the keyboard find their pace in the rhythm. For a moment I feel this “now” as a single note in a greater song. Another breath, and it’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices

Taking a Moment

January 30, 2020 //
0

It’s quiet this morning. The start to this day feels… muted. Not dull or in any way a failure to satisfy, it’s just… uncomplicated. Serene. Relaxed, but purposeful – and quiet. I sip my coffee… contentedly? Something short of satisfaction or enthusiasm, but far from discontent, sorrow, or ennui. I’m here. Present. Awake. Aware. Ready.

There is no need to chase something better, right now. This is entirely okay. Adequate. Sufficient. Enough. My coffee isn’t great, but it’s good. The weather is neither cold nor warm, and although it’s not raining, it probably will, later – and clearly has, during the night. I feel “between things” in a comfortable way.

I am considering a moment I shared with my Traveling Partner last night. Strangely emotional. Unexpectedly considerate, and aware. Honest. Almost tender… maybe a bit too honest to really be tender, though. It was very real. It was a moment of love, wearing its most honest face. I keep using that word. “Honest.” It is a quality of appreciate about us.

I remember my tears welling up; they were deeply felt, but not sorrowful. I give some thought to his frustration with my tears, and wonder if he understands that I really heard him, and so very much appreciate what he was saying – not just the words, but also the loving intent, and the tenderness implied by that. I feel cared for, and visible. I consider the words, the meaning, the intent. I consider the implications. I consider my self-care practices, and all the things in life I enjoy, that I sometimes needlessly defer because… well, why exactly? Isn’t that the point of our conversation, in the first place? To be sure to make a point to do the things in life I enjoy and want to do, and also embrace and enjoy love, within the context of this lovely partnership?

I smile and finish my coffee. The work day is only just beginning, and there is much to do. This is a good moment to begin again. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5

But, Wait, I’m Not Ready!

January 28, 2020 //
0

I’m still chuckling about getting all the way to work yesterday without realizing I had forgotten my phone. 🙂 You know what? I totally survived it, and there was honestly no actual stress involved. lol It was interesting how wholly unprepared for the morning I actually was, yesterday, though. I’m not sure why… I didn’t feel particularly groggy, or tired. I bumbled about my morning routine fairly unconvincingly, as though it were all new, or maybe… an afterthought. All good. The day happened, without regard to my readiness for it. 😀

Here it is another one. Good cup of coffee. Good night of rest. I feel comfortable, and from the vantage point of just waking, not in much pain. Nice. Good start to the day.

I get lost in my thoughts for a few minutes, staring into the pre-dawn darkness beyond the window of my studio, drinking coffee. This is not wasted time. It is time spent in a contented reverie, relaxed, calm, and present. I smile, partly because the smile feels good, and partly because this moment feels a bit like an achievement. No anxiety. No doubt. No seething unsettled unsatisfied rage. Just a woman, a moment, and a cup of coffee in the morning. This moment feels like a destination arrived at. My smile deepens in a moment of self-directed encouragement and quiet joy.

Sufficiency. Contentment. Perspective. These can be built, worked at, and nurtured, so much more easily than one can “chase happiness”. Having built them over time, I find them a durable foundation to explore joy, to find “ease”, and to experience fearless presence in my own experience. A worthy journey, thus far. I enjoy the morning’s wee quiet celebration.

I think ahead. I can’t see beyond the “fog of the unknown” future ahead of me, not really. I trim away expectations, and regularly check my assumptions, looking for hints that I have mislead myself, and making corrections before fanciful self-deceits can sabotage my experience. Gently vigilant. Still so human. I’m not even frustrated by that. Not this morning. Not over this good cup of coffee, in this pleasant moment. I laugh at myself joyfully, for no real “reason”.

Without warning, in an instant… and we can only be prepared for so much.

Emotional resilience is that quality which allows us to “fill our tanks”, or build a healthy foundation, to be emotionally able to withstand life’s unexpected moments, occasional crisis or trauma, and to bounce back with our sense of self and general “wholeness” intact. It’s that resilience that allows us to hear the sound of a glass door unexpectedly shatter, breaking the peace of a work morning into countless fragments, broken, chaotic, and then from that wreckage, to retrieve a perfectly excellent day of work, and life, and love. I happen across the photograph, and recall the moment that I heard the “crack!” of that door, a corridor away, as it yielded to some force of physics. I’d already forgotten about it, and in a moment when I later walked past the shattered door, my eye saw only the beauty of the patterns of the fractured glass. Having forgotten my phone, I asked someone else if I could use their phone to photograph it… which created a joyful space for a conversation about art, and life. It’s rare that the woman in the mirror gets to be the artist she is, in the place she works for a living. It was quite wonderful, and somewhat distracting, and I finish my coffee pondering the happy coincidence that I had forgotten my phone. That worked out nicely. 🙂 I was present – for all the moments.

Later, after I returned home, my Traveling Partner and I relaxed and enjoyed our shared evening. My phone was still forgotten on the charger. I was still present, enjoying the moments my partner and I share. Quite delightful. I hope I learned some things… It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »