Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

Weird day. I don’t know that it could easily be called ‘good’ or ‘bad’; it was the sort of day that defies such simple judgments. Perhaps that’s best. This moment here is very pleasant and quiet.

Evening on the edge of spring.

Evening on the edge of spring.

I recently went to a yoga class at a nearby studio. I enjoyed it greatly, and it gave me some cool things to work on – one of them is balance. I’ve tended to skirt postures that test my balance ‘too much’ out of fear of falling. In the class I attended, balance was central theme of this particular teacher’s sequence that night. Simply balance. Simple balance; most of the time we were focused on simplicity and elegance, and none of the poses were notoriously difficult or fancy ones. I didn’t exactly excel, but it opened my eyes to the need to improve my balance.

I love a good metaphor.

Tonight I am treating myself gently, and enjoying the evening quietly. From this quiet chill vantage point, it’s even tempting to smile when I think of the day; there is a lot to appreciate. Balance doesn’t have to be fancy.

The last of twilight is gone. The house is quiet. The aquarium lights are off. There is stillness within, and stillness surrounding me. For many minutes I sat, also still, soaking in the awareness of the quiet, the serenity, the gentleness of the moment itself – neither extraordinary, nor memorable – before turning to words. Those sorts of still moments are so easily missed; it seems wise to savor them when I can, so I sat wrapped in the stillness, breathing, calm, content…really, just enjoying it. Awake. Aware. Compassionate and not judging; observing attentively, present and engaged. Words. Frustratingly, the words don’t do the feeling justice, at all. I am tempted to hit ‘save draft’ and crash for the night… I am not ready for sleep.

Evening light

Evening light

There are more things to consider than things that truly need to be said…or… said by me. Perhaps, tonight, fewer words, and a few more minutes to consider the words already said? More stillness. Some handful of moments smiling in the darkness, this gentle pleasant now a small gift from me, to me – the tiniest down payment on a substantial debt I owe to myself.

Spring flowers and ice.

Spring flowers and ice, a mixed message.

Not even 300 words…but I’ve been writing for more than an hour, pretty continuously. I get so far, then…delete back to the last thing that said…something. Words are failing me this evening. I’m okay with that…and that’s mostly what I am saying; I’m okay. For now. Generally speaking. I feel a feeling of safety built on my own strength, lately. I practice a lot of practices to be here for myself. (I’m not bitching – I’m just saying it’s not a magical transformation born of some ‘aha!’ moment; I’ve been working at this.) It’s been worth it. Start somewhere. Start small. Don’t quit. Enjoy the small changes; eventually the changes don’t seem so small, after all.

It's hard to photograph birdsong...

It’s hard to photograph birdsong…

Oh, hey…Seriously? There’s no magic to any of this. I still have bad days. I still make mistakes. I still struggle with challenges that may not improve much more and require good-natured self-acceptance, a sense of humor, and the will to just keep at it (because change is). I still cry when I’m frustrated. I still feel angry when I am mistreated. It’s all very human; that part just doesn’t change. I think, right now, in this quiet still and very peaceful moment, it’s easy to look past all the hard stuff. It does take practice. There are verbs involved. (Your results may vary.)

 

It’s a lovely morning so far. My coffee is hot, and not at all bitter. My clothes feel comfortable and fit well. I woke lacking the usual headache, and my arthritis pain is well-managed and not troubling me. The day begins gently, and the day before ended gently, with love. Seems pretty perfect…

…I’m very groggy.

Perfectly imperfect...enjoying the moment that is, unconcerned about what isn't.

Perfectly imperfect…enjoying the moment that is, unconcerned about what isn’t.

I sit here with my tasty coffee, contemplating this lovely morning; it is ‘perfect’ without being unflawed. Quite a nice morning…I am, however, seriously struggling to really wake up. It’s not a bother today, but I can feel echoes of other mornings, when the frustration of not fully waking up as quickly as usual eventually drove sufficient irritability to throw a pleasant morning off course. This is not that sort of morning; it is ‘perfectly imperfect’ and I am content.

A picture perfect spring day. Who defines perfection?

A picture perfect spring day. Who defines perfection?

The ‘search for happiness’ has often seriously confounded my ability to actually experience happiness. I’ve found myself feeling happy, even for prolonged periods, most often when I wasn’t looking for it, wasn’t chasing it, instead investing my time and will into being and doing on other levels that result rather commonly in the experience of happiness. Like trying to watch the horizon at night, it seems to be most effective when I’m doing something else entirely.

There’s not much more to say this morning… It’s a lovely morning to experience the morning that is, and savor each sweet moment as-is, no demands, no criteria, no negotiation, no picking it apart to make more or less of it… just this timeless precious now, enjoyed exactly as it is.

It’s enough.

Well, or maybe not – especially if you haven’t asked, or I haven’t told you, or we don’t spend much time together…right? Assumptions tend to result in people having relationships and interactions with rather different people than the people involved are thinking they are, themselves. Like a lot of thinking, it isn’t ‘real’; it’s all completely made up. When I approached turning 50, I made a choice to take a much more genuine approach to my experience, generally, and I’m glad I did. It hasn’t been the easiest change to make; I can adjust my own thinking, and refrain from making assumptions, but I can’t do a damned thing about the thinking, or assumptions, of others – not even to wake them up to the rather significant changes in my approach to my own life and experience. I will be taking The Four Agreements with me out into the trees. It seems a good time to reread it.

Pop songs make so much of life, love, and sex sound incredibly easy. I don’t even find ‘being easy’ particularly easy in practice. It’s fortunately more amusing and bewildering than anything else, most of the time.

Do you know what I like? Even if you know me personally (and some of you do), even if you are an intimate associate or partner, what chance is there that you actually know me sufficiently well that you know what I like – right now, after a couple of years of intense growth and change, without actually asking me? Experience tells me that it is quite rare to be so well-known as a human being, even by the most connected and intimate associates, even after years of interacting, without at least some exchange of explicit communication.  To expect to be known so well in the midst of change, or at the end of a period of profound growth, doesn’t sound likely at all, and seems likely to cause all kinds of suffering.

I also notice that it is very uncommon for people who already know each other to make much effort to update their knowledge and expectations of their friends, lovers, or partners identities, preferences, aesthetic; the details that express the heart of soul of who we are. That seems very strange. I know assumptions have survival value – or we probably wouldn’t have developed to make so many of them – but they are not a particularly useful intimacy building tool… and yet, we cling to them, argue to defend our assumptions – even in the face of actual information.

Do you know what I like? More to the point – that person walking beside you in life, how about that person – do you know what they like? Do you listen when they talk about it? Are you interested? Does it matter to you? And you – do you feel heard? Recognized? Valued? Encouraged in your endeavors? Do you face holidays and gift occasions eager, and content in the knowledge that you are known, and understood? That what matters to you is significant in their experience because it does matter to you? Do you still look love in the eyes eagerly wanting to know more?

Oh, Baby, you knoooow what I like!

Oh, Baby, you knoooow what I like!

It’s a lovely gentle Saturday, spent on art, lattes, meditation, and some words – and questions. Today is a good day for questions. Today is a good day for presence. Today is a good day to be genuinely this woman I am; who else could do it better than I can? Today is a good day to change the world.

I’ve been having some exceptional moments, lately. Some are small and really of no consequence to anyone but me. In some cases, these are the very best moments – gifts of heart, and love, from me, to me, myself. Those are sometimes oddly poignant, particularly if they are experiences colored by the realization that I could have been there for me, in some way, all along. They aren’t unpleasant moments, but sometimes they are uncomfortable.

Each having our own experience...

Each having our own experience…

Lately I have been really throwing myself into being who I am, by choice, supported by my values and actions, and wholly enjoying the enjoyable bits of this amazing creature I have become over the years, while steadfastly working toward my personal goals one practice at a time, investing in great self-care, and taking time to savor this amazing journey. It feels good, and more than that, it feels a bit as if pieces of heart and soul torn from me by circumstances or maltreatment are somehow ‘finding their way home’. I feel more whole than I have… ever. No, life isn’t ‘perfect’, whatever that means, and I will likely spend a lifetime healing, and sorting myself out from the chaos and damage – but it no longer feels like an exercise in futility; I feel hopeful, and better, I am often content.

Life is. Change is. Action is. Choice is. Love is. There are lots of things that are – and it’s a busy world, with each of us having our own experience. I am practicing a couple of practices to simplify my daily experience, because simpler is what suits me best, at this time in my life. I am enjoying making choices that truly support my needs over time, and learning to do so more easily has been worth the ongoing challenges with doing so. It’s still difficult, sometimes, to stay true to taking care of me when it isn’t easy, or faces the obstacle of expectations, assumptions, or agendas held by others. Practicing improves outcomes over time.

Contemplating where this journey might take me, and considering the path ahead.

Contemplating where this journey might take me, and considering the path ahead.

I have the luxury of planning an early spring solo camping trip. I am yearning to be free of steel and pavement and society’s needs and conventions. I am yearning to be among the trees, and the quiet of the world without humankind’s urgency and complicated details. I am craving stillness to the point of lusting after the sound of breezes and birdsong. I am ready to take a few days free of any agenda but my own serenity and survival. My reservations are made. My transportation plans have been confirmed. This weekend I’ll do a preliminary gear check, and make a list, and check it – perhaps a few more times than twice, just for the fun of handling the gear. 🙂

This particular camping trip is an opportunity to test new limits and current endurance; I am packing my lightest gear, going for a longer period than I generally do, and camping at a time of year when inclement weather and extremes of temperature are likely – and likely to be variable. No cot – will my arthritis be a problem? No camping chair – will I miss the luxury of my fancy folding chair, even though the campsite has a picnic table? Colder nights – will I sleep? If I don’t sleep, will I slowly allow strange noises to fuel vague fears into becoming panic and spend sleepless nights worrying about imaginary monsters in the night forest? Will I spend 4 days huddled in my tent hoping to avoid drenching rain? Will I run out of coffee? Will it matter if I do? Assurances from family members that I “can always come home Friday if…” are met with a smile, and the confidence that I’ll be out in the trees the entire time. I know me. I will learn some things about who I am now, over a few chilly spring days in the forest.

I only have one reservation - the only one I need.

I only have one reservation – the only one I need: campsite #21.

Today I plan; it’s a good day for planning, and anticipating fun. It’s a good day to enjoy the world I create with my choices, and my actions. It’s a good day to change the world.