Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

I’m sipping my coffee, back aching, and contemplating the day ahead of me. The world seems ever to be in turmoil, and I find myself wondering if maybe that’s just the way of worlds? Humans being human, stumbling in the darkness, failing to live up to their own expectations, trying and trying again – sometimes without changing what they’re doing that didn’t work the first time. We’re strange creatures; we have immense capacity for reason and intelligent thought, but often choose not to make use of it. Isn’t that strange? We have the power to change how we feel and what we do, how we experience the world around us, what we think of this or that, and to deepen our understanding and knowledge over time, to choose differently based on experience and learning, and sometimes we just… don’t bother. Isn’t that peculiar?

The weekend ahead of me is filled with choices and opportunities. Will newly started seedlings have enough roots to be ready to plant into the new little solar hydro garden that my Traveling Partner made for me? Will the deer eat more of my tomato plants? Will I find a pair of jeans that fit as well as this pair that is falling apart and can’t really be worn anymore in spite of being my favorite pair? Will I make “the perfect cup of coffee” and manage to enjoy it before it gets cold? Will I take time to finish the book I’m reading? Will I paint or write poetry or gaze at the stars in the hour before dawn? Will my Traveling Partner delight me with some unexpected token of his affection crafted for me by his loving hands? Will the Anxious Adventurer share a funny meme, or cook a tasty meal for the family, or give me a hand with the irrigation project for the west side garden? I think about the possibilities without setting expectations or making assumptions. The possibilities are nearly endless – what brings them to life will be the choices we each make.

…”Choose wisely,” I remind myself, “the clock is ticking”…

A rose blooming in the garden

Still, choices or no choices, actions or no actions, busy or not-so-busy, it’s worth making time to also simply enjoy each moment. Like the roses in my garden, each moment is unique. Unrepeatable. “Once in a lifetime”, however similar it may seem to some other moment quite like it. Being present – really present – slows the clock, and enriches each experience. Mindfulness as a practice has its greatest value in that quality above most others; presence. It teaches presence. It’s a practice, though, and it requires effort, and the doing of the thing. There are verbs involved, and choices. It’s not a passive happenstance that I can count on, it’s a choice I have to make, and a practice that requires practicing.

I sit more fully upright, hoping to ease the arthritis pain in my back. I’m aware of it there in the background. Does it hint at a change in the weather? Is it due to effort or strain? Does that even matter? I sigh quietly to myself and take something to ease the discomfort somewhat. I sip my coffee, and enjoy the moment without regard to the pain. Escaping it may not be an option, but neither do I have to let it control me.

Feels like a good day, generally. If it didn’t, I could choose to change things about my experience and perhaps improve it. That’s not necessary today; I feel okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m not weighed down by the foolishness, violence, and sorrows of the world. Not right now. It’s a pretty morning. There are flowers blooming in my garden (and beyond), and the day feels sort of “easy”, generally. I sit with that feeling, grateful and appreciative, not wanting to waste the moment by rushing it or taking it for granted, although I’m eager to get to the other side of the work day, and head home to my beloved and my garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, gazing out the window in front of me as cars stream into the parking lot below. It’s that time. Time to begin again.

A colorful sunrise greeted me at the trailhead. The weather is mild, almost warm. The air is calm, and the pollen count is fairly high. My head is a little stuffy. The robins (and there are many) are quite loud as they call to each other.

Dawn of a new day.

It is a new day, filled with promise and opportunity, chances for success and for failure, and rich with choices. It’s also an utterly ordinary such day. The day begins well; I escaped my headache of yesterday. Definitely a good beginning.

I swap soft shoes for sturdy boots and grab my cane. I rarely walk any distance without it these days. I’m not bothered by that, it’s just a detail.

Colorful sunrise

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and set off down the trail. Lovely day for it, in spite of my stuffy sinuses, and irritated throat. Lots of flowers blooming now. I’ve taken allergy medication first thing, and it helps. I continue to enjoy the moment – and the flowers. The sunrise continues to evolve, the clouds shifting pink to salmon to peach and bold shades of orange. Quite a display. I pause frequently to enjoy the sight of it, and to snap pictures.

…It is worth all manner of bother and inconvenience and delays to pause for a beautiful sunrise; there’s no knowing how many we may see…

I walked and watched the sun rise, until I reached this not-quite-halfway spot. It has a better view than my usual stopping point. A row of trees is silhouetted against the sky. A wonderful baby blue morning sky begins to show between the colorful clouds.

I breathe exhale and relax, sitting awhile with my thoughts as the sun rises. I think ahead to later. I have it in mind to make breakfast for my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer and myself, a little later. A chubby raccoon slowly walks past, far enough from me to be unconcerned about my presence, near enough to be clearly visible. Somewhere nearby, a woodpecker makes his presence known.

Dawn becomes day, and it’s time to begin again. I get to my feet to finish my walking and turn towards the sun.

What delights does this day hold?

This morning my walk began at a familiar well-maintained trailhead. I walked west with the sunrise at my back. The weather is mild, clear and calm. Seems likely to be a warm day and I’m glad I took time to water the garden thoroughly yesterday evening.

Mt Hood in the distance.

I pause my walk occasionally for sneezes, grateful to have thought to grab a pack of travel tissues, mildly annoyed to have to shove them in my pocket after using them; I’ve already passed by the few trash cans along the start of this trail.

I pass a woman going the opposite direction, being walked by her dogs. They pull her along, their leashes taut, she seems to pull back while also being hurried along. Too much dog, I suppose. I chuckle to myself and keep walking. The dogs paid me no attention, they had someplace to be, apparently.

Somewhere over there, the sun rises.

I woke up from surreal dreams this morning, super groggy. Even by the time I reach my halfway point, my head is still foggy, my strange dreams linger, and I have A Tribe Called Quest stuck in my head. I don’t overthink the moment, I queue up the track and listen to it while I watch another sunrise.

Venus sparkles like a tiny diamond on the soft pale blue of a dawn sky streaked with playful pink clouds. Hard to take the world seriously when there is such beauty. Sometimes pausing to appreciate the beauty in the world around me feels like an act of rebellion, as if to say “you have no power over me” to the goblin king. As the morning sky brightens, Venus fades away from view.

I sigh quietly to myself. I sit awhile with private thoughts. The clock ticks on. My journey is incomplete and the path beckons me. This trail isn’t going to walk itself. There’s more to see, more to do. The day has only just begun. I stretch and get to my feet. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee over a break between catching up on everything I missed while I was out of the office for a long weekend, and getting started on all the things yet to be done with this new day. I’m thinking about what a joy the weekend was, and what a trainwreck it sometimes feel the world is (or has become). The immense value and promise of the Internet and global connectivity doesn’t change how easy it is for entities with an agenda to harvest our data – or our attention – regardless of the actual value to us as individuals, and it can be hard to detach myself from the outrage machinery and engagement-seeking drama all around. It can be done; there are verbs involved. Choices. Commitment. Will. Practice.

Choose your path and walk it.

I’m not “a perfect person” – not even close. I am seeking the best within myself, and making a point to practice the practices that serve to shore up (and improve) my mental health and emotional wellness, and build better relationships. I work hard to be become the woman I most want to be. It’s an ongoing bit of work to address character flaws, battle my inner demons, and just do my damned best to be a better person today than I was yesterday. My results vary. (Yours will too; it’s a very human experience.) Still – what better journey than this journey of self-discovery, and healing, and growth could I make over the course of a lifetime? Step by step, day by day, one practice at a time, one moment at a time… I’m finding the best within myself that I can, working to create better qualities where I find myself lacking, and living that life.

…It was a lovely weekend, celebrating love and spending time in the garden. I feel rested, nourished, and restored by the days spent on life and love in the company of my beloved Traveling Partner. I definitely needed it…

The new day began after a night of strange dreams. The sun rise was beautiful as I made the commute to the office. Traffic was light, the drive was pleasant, and my morning coffee is quite good. A nice beginning to the week. The only “fly in my ointment” this morning is this wistful pang of loss and vague persistent feeling of longing in the background; I miss my Traveling Partner intensely after 4 pleasant days spent together, present, connected, and loving. I could have worked from home, but… I doubt I’d have been able to focus on working. lol My heart is at home, in spite of the work in front of me. My thoughts are in my garden, and with my beloved. Taking a break to write, reflect, and indulge my emotions a bit is intended to let me “get back to work” more focused (the way out is through, and our emotions are not an enemy or a defect).

“Baby Love”, the first rose to bloom this year.

I sigh to myself and smile at nothing much. I sip my coffee and stretch. Life is full of next steps and new beginnings. Incremental change over time may not feel like the fastest route to lasting change, but it is a reliable one. I gaze out the window at the brilliant blue sky streaked with a single vapor trail from a passing aircraft, watching the shifting hues of green in the trees as the sun rises higher. Nice moment to pause and reflect and feel the contentment I’ve worked to build over years. I’m standing in a good spot, metaphorically speaking…nonetheless, it is time to begin again. The clock is ticking.

I woke early, got to the trailhead after a peaceful Sunday morning drive. No traffic at all. My walk was quiet, solitary, and uneventful in every way. It was just me, the sounds of distant traffic and my footsteps, and the occasional song of a robin somewhere nearby. There were flowers blooming along the trail.

A field of little yellow flowers.

Flowers are a bit like moments, aren’t they? They are brief and often quite beautiful, some more impressive than others, often regretfully fleeting, sometimes delightfully sweet. Lives are built on moments the way gardens and meadows are built on flowers; there is so much more to it than that, but it’s easy to overlook the underlying complexity distracted by the moment – or the flower.

A clump of small purple-pink flowers.

Moments and flowers both have incredible variety. Some are intensely beautiful, others are quite subtle. Some are memorable to the point of creating a lasting impression or an archetype, others less so, becoming easily forgotten as time passes. Flowers fade and wither, their lives are short. Moments, too, exist and fade away, never to be repeated, each unique in some way.

I walked thinking about moments and flowers, both worth considering “from a distance”, and examined more closely. There is so much to learn from reflection on a moment, or from examining a flower. There is much to appreciate and enjoy being wholly present with either.

A worthwhile moment, considering a flower up close. An ordinary meadow flower, given a chance to become a moment.

The Spring air is fragrant with the scent of meadow flowers. My thoughts wander to my garden. The strawberries are flowering. Did you know that strawberry blossoms have a scent? The Swiss chard I planted has sprouted and the romaine is recovering from being nibbled upon by the deer. I planted tomatoes yesterday, and potted up the lemon balm I had sprouted. It’s a lovely tea herb, but a poor choice to plant freely in a garden bed; it will take over. Like the mint, I keep it potted. The clematis I added this year is thriving. The peas are climbing their trellis. The garden is a lovely metaphor for life.

Is your garden thriving? What have you planted there? Are you following a plan? Have weeds taken over? Your results will certainly vary (I know mine do), and there is so much work involved it can feel daunting to try to keep up. How we tend our gardens has a lot to do with how they grow and what we can harvest. It’s no good dreaming of plump sun-ripened tomatoes plucked from the vine if you didn’t plant any tomatoes to begin with! In every moment the choices we make matter, and guide our potential outcomes and future moments.

I smile and enjoy this quiet moment at meadow’s edge, smelling the flowers on the marsh breeze. Nice morning. I don’t mind that the clock is ticking, I’m not paying it any mind; I’ve got this moment to enjoy. I can begin again a little later.