Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

I woke to a drizzly rainy winter day of the sort that characterizes our winters here; wet. Gray, chilly, and wet. If I were to cross the meadow on foot, walking on apparently firm ground covered in grass, it would squish under my feet, yielding, soggy, unsteady, the entire length and breadth of the park. Bare branches reaching for the sky loom uncertainly over expanses of green meadow grass, interrupted by swaths of taller growth that has fallen to winter, now brown, and beaten down by passing showers. Everywhere little birds perch, sharing their observations with one another. The feeders are full, and the nearest pine has a large-ish red-wing blackbird letting his buddies know breakfast is on. So far no surprises; it is a rather ordinary winter day.

My night was restless. I woke often. I returned to sleep with relative ease each time. I was up past midnight, waiting for the change of the calendar (for no reason other than to see 2016 end in a clear way, and see the calendar “begin again” before calling it a night). Sleeping in wasn’t really about getting more sleep – just the usual more-or-less-enough quantity. When I did get up, I was acutely aware of how groggy I was, and dithered briefly over whether to return to sleep yet again… coffee won that round. 🙂

My coffee is hot and bitter on my tongue this morning, a rather amusing state of things (most particularly since my sense of taste isn’t particularly sensitive to “bitter” in the first place); I like coffee. I ignore the bitterness. There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere…

It is a new year…one of those grand sorts of moments on which to begin something that makes it a very appealing starting point for some things… which tends also to result in a higher than usual rate of “fuck it” reactions to things begun, and failed, rather than the more productive “begin again” that I so generally favor. I smile to myself as I consider that puzzle. Are new beginnings best unstated, without a firm noteworthy, calendar worthy, starting point? Or is that an illusion? Does it matter at all, or is the question itself a distraction from actually beginning… anything?

I sit quietly, sipping my coffee, listening to the rain tap on the eaves, and watching the birds come and go from the feeder. All over the world, today, and rather impressively, a huge quantity of human beings are beginning things. New diets are being started. New exercise and fitness routines are commencing. New skills are being learned. Old habits are being abandoned in favor of new ones. Promises and commitments are being made, full of hope and enthusiasm. Relationships are being strengthened. Boundaries are being set. Daydreams are becoming plans. Plans are becoming actions. Today, a huge quantity of human beings, across many nations and cultures, are reaching out for their future, grabbing the edge of it, and pulling it closer. For a few days, the full might of human will can be seen in the magnitude of humanities dreams, goals, and desires… Powerful.

Resolutions don’t work for you? They don’t “work” for me, either. It’s a lifelong habituation associating the word “resolution” with slow failure, with giving up, with a lack of change, I suspect – more to do with the word, than with my will. It’s almost a given; if I label my intent with the heading of “resolution” at the start of the new year, I am most likely going to give up on it fairly quickly, lacking any clear idea why the endeavor failed. Silly primate – choose another word, then choose some damned verbs. 🙂 There is effort involved in bringing our will to life as an outcome. Verbs. Practice. Beginning again. So… I don’t do “new year’s resolutions” at all. I begin again nearly every day – on something. I’ll begin some things today, too. No “resolutions”.

I’ll recommit to things that matter, and with which I struggle to make progress.

I’ll embrace positive changes, with careful consideration, choosing different verbs, and practicing often.

I’ll let go of some old baggage – as much as I can figure out how to set down.

I’ll give thought to my daydreams, and look for opportunities to shift from dreaming to planning.

I’ll make a point to seek out events and activities that I’ll enjoy (alone or in good company) and set calendar reminders to get tickets, and make adjustments to my budget that account for the things I want to enjoy.

I’ll continue to practice the practices that improve my quality of life – and my ability to recognize how good it generally is.

There are quite a few verbs involved in becoming the woman I most want to be, in nurturing my best qualities, and the best qualities of the human beings around me, and in reaching whatever goals I set for myself. I’ll probably fall short of my own expectations now and then, or simply fail to succeed at some task or another. I’ll continue to be quite human all through the coming year.

I’ll begin again, as often as necessary. No “resolutions” required. 🙂 2017? We’ve got this! 😉

I slept in today. It’s still dark outside, though. I slept well and deeply, waking only once that I know of, and returning to sleep with relative ease. I woke with a stiff neck, eased by morning yoga and physical therapy exercises. It is a gentle morning, and I am not working today. The break from work, with the associated cognitive rest, is welcome. I yawn, and stretch, and sip my coffee contentedly, thinking about my partner, and the day ahead.

Capturing a similar sense of relaxed leisure during the busy work weeks, in those moments which are truly undeniably my own, is something that exists as a… goal? Intention? Ideal? Something like that. It’s a nice balance, when I succeed, to enjoy my limited leisure time in a fully relaxed, aware, mindful way, wringing all the joy and contentment out of them that they may offer. Sometimes I find myself enjoying it quite as I’d like, and happily so. Other times, not so much – my thoughts may be pulled back to work topics, or to actual work-related cognitive task-processing, thinking through the details before I even get to work, or lingering over them long after I have ended my busy day. It isn’t really helpful to over-extend myself, and good quality rest and downtime are a huge part of feeling content and well, generally. The hours I am now so often inclined to spend “sneaking back to work” in my thoughts used to be those hours I spent similarly mired in work, but doing so from the perspective of feeling resentful to be there at all. ever. Funny how difficult it can be to let it go and embrace my own time, for my own purposes. It takes practice.

This morning the pre-dawn darkness lingers past 7 am. Sunrise is not until almost 8 am this morning. The sky is only now beginning to hint at lightness, where the clouds part, silhouetting trees against the sky. Soon I will take my coffee to the cushion at the patio door to watch the sunrise. It’s not a fancy moment, really, just one that I enjoy sufficiently to make time for it. Isn’t that the thing that is so often missing? Time. In this busy life, so many things I enjoy don’t just happen; it is necessary to make time for them. Walks through the park. Conversation with a friend. Coffee and a sunrise. Watching the birds at the feeder. Writing a letter on paper. Reading a book.  It is necessary to make the time for the things I love. What matters most? The job? Oh, surely not! There is more to life – and not only somewhen beyond retirement, there is more to life right now than getting up and going to work, coming home and going to sleep, and repeating that cycle endlessly. We are not machines. Work is the least important thing about any one of us – even doctors, teachers, scientists. Our professional life is such a small piece of who we each are. I remind myself how critical it is to make the time to be a whole being, enjoying and savoring each moment.

Today is mine. It’s a nice luxury. Today is a good day to enjoy the woman in the mirror. Where will the day take me?

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Sipping my coffee thinking about this lovely holiday season. Thinking about the people who make it possible. The job. My delightful neighbors. My Traveling Partner. Family. Friends. Oh – and all the people who are stuck working while I am enjoying some time at home, them too. I mean… seriously, quite a lot of people do not have the luxury of taking time off for the holidays. Some of those don’t earn much in the way of holiday pay, most likely don’t see any kind of perks or bonuses, and they’re still out there. They’re commuting to and from work on the transit system. They’re serving coffee, waiting tables, cooking food, stocking shelves, standing at cash registers, fulfilling orders in warehouses, moving packages from point A to point B… all the things. You may be one of them. If you are – thank you. Thank you for doing all of the things.

If you aren’t one of these people, if you do get to “go home for the holidays” – even if that’s just a block or two you are not commuting for a few days – please take a moment of consideration for all of the folks who are working. They probably have to. Be kind. Be generous – or at least good-hearted. Be gracious and well-mannered. Be helpful. Be appreciative. Be your best self. Why? Well, why the hell not? It’s a mockery of our potential as human beings when we sink to our worst, is it not? Happy Holidays? Merry Giftmas? Sure – make it happen, and with a few choices in a handful of tense or tired moments, make it happen not at the expense of the people who are actually the ones making it happen with you, or for you.

I’m just saying, we all have opportunities to treat each other well. It doesn’t have to be seasonal. 🙂

Today is a good day to take a few minutes to be there for someone – even if it inconveniences you. Today is a good day to listen, to really listen, and be someone’s lighthouse in their dark and stormy night. Today is a good day to remember that the holidays don’t really feel good to everyone; we are each having our own experience, and “sharing the magic” of the holidays may be a complicated offering for people who are hurting, or grieving, or sad. Today is a good day for connecting, for conversation, for asking “how can I help?” and taking a moment to share the journey.

City lights, and a horizon full of traveler's tales.

City lights, and a horizon full of traveler’s tales.

What a lovely moment to begin again.

I’m home. The busy work day is behind me. The week is finished. I sit quietly taking it in; I don’t work tomorrow. I am home. I am alone. Tonight… I’m even lonely. It happens. Just using the word, my eyes tear up a bit. I’m okay, just very human. Tired. In pain. Frustrated by the world every time I hear an adult conversation in passing, or read the news. “Stick a fork in me…” I sigh out loud, the sound of it in the room seems oddly out-of-place with the quiet.

A shower later, and a change into comfy clothes, I’m still in this strange place, poised between contentment and despair. There’s no particular reason for it, really… it’s winter. It’s been a busy week at work. Is that all this is? Am I just tired? I’m struggling to manage some of my self-care basics with the new job. I’m pushing “too hard”, taking too few breaks, getting too little rest… but I also love the job, feel passionate about the progress we’re making, and feel very valued and appreciated. What do I do with that? The long commutes make the days very long indeed, and the evenings very short.

I feel myself sort of… pull back. From everything. Closing the door on “extra people” – as if the friends and loved ones outside the workplace are not in fact far more important to me, day-to-day, moment-to-moment, than even my most esteemed colleague. I come home at the end of the day. Close the door. Sit down. Being fair to my self and my circumstances, it’s rare to feel other than contented on a quiet evening after work, these days. Tonight is different. I remind myself that the sensation of “always” that feels so dull and bleak and immovable is, itself, a part of this feeling – and every sad strained drop of it is pure emotion. Chemistry. Lacking in real meaning, or substance. It’s more a drug than an experience. Squashing it doesn’t help – never has. Venting… meh. I’ve had mixed success there, and my suspicion is that it is the camaraderie of sharing the tale, the connected moment, that results in any apparent success – and fuck, I already know that experiencing an intimate emotional (positive) connection with another human being is a fast track to losing the blues. This is not news.

…But I ache, and I’m tired, and… I’d also like very much to be alone. Now isn’t that a bitch? Feeling lonely, and still wanting to be alone. What the fuck do I do with that?? Well. In this particular instance, I light a fire in the fireplace. I put on some soup. (I made a tasty robust 15 bean soup yesterday in the slow cooker, while I worked from home. It’ll be even better today.) I put on my fuzziest, comfy-cosiest, softest spa socks. I did some yoga. Took some time to meditate. I started choosing to let the stress fall away. I looked the loneliness in the face, and let it be what it is, without piling self-criticism, disappointment, or additional demands on top of it. I lit the lights on the Giftmas tree – and grudgingly made room for the awareness that I was smiling, at least a little. One thing at a time. I started treating myself better, one thing at a time. Rather than continue down the unpleasant path of criticizing my crappy treatment of myself, I’m making a point to go ahead and treat myself better. Right now. Only that. We become what we practice.

Soup will be ready soon. It’s later than I generally have dinner, but I’m also not sleepy. Just tired… and the kind of tired that is mostly brain-tired. Giving my brain a rest isn’t always about sleep. My fingers find the edge of the book I am reading… soup first, though. Later, sleep.

Tomorrow I can begin again.

Today I’ll head to the office. My clothes are appropriate for the weather. I’ve got a warm coat. I’ll put on a hate, scarf, gloves, and my Yak Tracks (even though my hiking boots have good tread and are very “grippy”, they’re not the “tool for the job” on icy surfaces). I’ve got a hiking base layer on under my work clothes. I don’t expect to make the trip as quickly as some dry autumn morning. I don’t expect my footing to be as secure as a summer day. I’ll take my time and make the trip without rushing myself, unconcerned about timeliness, and focused on safety.

Not all journeys are “the same”; we are each having our own experience. I live in the Portland (Oregon) area, and although we playfully mock ourselves for coming unglued over two inches of snow, here, the icing over that happens regularly is genuinely a hazard. I stayed home yesterday; travel wasn’t very safe, and working from home is an option for me. Today, I’m choosing to make the journey less because there’s any great improvement in the safety, and more because the specifics of the work to be done will benefit from being on site. I miss my Traveling Partner like crazy, but his safety matters more by far (and Giftmas is almost here, and we have plans to spend some time together over the holiday, making it easy to be patient).

We are each having our own experience… and in this icy winter weather, we are also “all in it together” as soon as we step out onto the pavement, or get into our cars. How do I find balance between taking care of me, and being fully considerate of my fellow travelers? It’s a question that has a permanent place on my list. What matters most? Another good question. How can I help? A good question to have ready, generally, and excellent for use in tough circumstances.

Today is a good day for care and consideration, for taking care of me, for looking out for others. Today is a good day to put safety first, and to be aware of those that could use some help or a moment of kindness. Today is a good day to dress for the weather, and approach the journey with a measure of caution. It’s winter out there. I can choose whether I see it as a wonderland, or… something different than that. I can choose how I see the world.

Each having our own experience.

Each having our own experience.