Archives for posts with tag: practicing the practices

That’s a simple enough observation to share on a quiet morning; it gets easier with practice. It’s true of nearly anything one might practice, and would go without saying for that reason, only… I don’t know about  you, but I regularly forget that. I’m not looking to achieve perfection through practicing; it’s enough that practicing helps. I’m delighted that both the practicing and applying the skill, task, process, or practice I am practicing does get easier. With practice. 🙂

Like pictures of flowers, it's worth it to practice.

Like pictures of flowers, it’s worth it to practice.

Yesterday had all the potential in the world to go very wrong. I had taken my dose of Rx pain relief the night before, and rather carelessly just toss the bottle back into its place without being particularly mindful that I had just taken the last dose. As in, I had run out. I work hard to prevent that from happening because the outcome of unexpectedly withdrawing from it is not pleasant. I didn’t really think I was at risk – there was another whole bottled right there…only… there wasn’t. That was an entirely different medication, and the re-fill of my pain-killer hadn’t yet arrived in the mail. That seemed no big deal in the morning, at least initially. I was in a great mood and not much pain. So I shrugged it off and went on with my day. Before I even got to work, my mood started to turn, and I felt this simmering anger in the background that I couldn’t explain – it was a lovely day and I felt great when the day started.

By the time I got to work I felt inexplicably resentful, cross, short-tempered and hostile. Being ever so human, my brain started to craft explanations that seemed reasonable, which – since there wasn’t anything wrong to cause the feelings I was having, didn’t bode well for the future of the day, or my mood.  Later, some juxtaposition of thoughts and observations drove me to take a ‘time out’ in a quiet corner and meditate for a moment or two, and as I gently considered my being, I realized I was in a lot of pain. A lot. That’s when the smile broke through, and my shoulders relaxed, and the ferocity building in my heart died away; of course I was in pain, I hadn’t taken my pain medication. The last piece slipped into place and I recognized that the medication I hadn’t taken easily accounted for the entire experience. My experience immediately improved. I still hurt. I spent the day in a lot of pain. I still had that headache, and withdrawing from a pain-killer unexpectedly does suck – but it’s totally survivable, only mildly unpleasant. Certainly, it does not amount to an emotional betrayal of any sort, and there’s no call to allow it to ruin a productive work day.

I spent the rest of the day almost merry. I phoned my physician, asked to have the Rx refilled at the local pharmacy. My at-home partner offered to pick it up on her way home so it would be waiting for me when I arrived. Emotional crisis averted. I even thought to pay myself on the back for not allowing my emotions to rule – or ruin – the day, and enjoyed a moment of quite celebration – practicing the practices definitely making an every day difference.

Yoga is harder when I’m in pain, but getting through a sequence that addresses that pain reduces the pain I’m in.  That’s one practice I definitely intend to keep.

Meditation doesn’t come naturally during an emotional storm, or an angry moment, or dark despair; that’s why it requires practice, and making that commitment has resulted [for me] in more emotional resilience, more awareness and presence, less fearfulness and anxiety, better sleep, and a deep sense of calm that is easier to reach. Another practice I’m fully committed to; it’s the most powerful Rx I’ve ever had for some of what ails me.

Self-care practices go unnoticed in the lives of so many people. Observation in my own experience tells me, sadly, that much of what is wrong with the world is how poorly we treat ourselves, care for ourselves (or don’t), and tend to our own needs; we are rarely able to do better for others than we can do for ourselves. I’m fairly strict with myself these days, in a loving way, about being on time with medication, getting enough sleep, eating right, and staying on track with fitness goals – because when I treat myself well, I treat the world well, and enjoy my experience more.

A lovely day to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience more.

A lovely day to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience more.

Today seems ordinary enough, in a very pleasant way. Today I’ll take my time, savor the moments, and enjoy my experience. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

I’m  not blue, and it is Monday. I was allowing my mind to coast a bit, considering first this, then that, hoping this morning’s writing would coalesce into something coherent, at least. I thought of songs I know themed on Monday and went to Google. It still hasn’t stopped surprising me how much coincidence, chance, and serendipity gently bring my attention to things that support my growth, my progress, or enhance it somehow. This morning, my Google adventure resulted in finding a blog with a post about songs themed on Mondays.  An interesting find, worth exploring further, and another traveler’s narrative.

The weekend was mostly about exploring spontaneity, and practicing doing so mindfully. For me, this proved to be an exercise in strangeness, and overall I enjoyed it enough to find it was well spent, although I don’t care to utterly abandon my preference for planning. 🙂

Flowers and sunshine.

Flowers and sunshine, whether I plan them or not.

Yesterday morning I shared breakfast with a dear friend, and took a stroll through the local farmer’s market, and beyond that spent the day in study and contemplation. I took a chance on a lovely day and did some yoga outside. In the afternoon, I lost track of time, meditating in a shady spot for what turned out to be a couple of hours well spent. Later, studying spontaneously became napping, and while I’m sure I needed the rest, it resulted in being awake far into the night, hyper-vigilant and overly aware of our house guest, my partner’s Dad, staying over.  I’m hoping I am sufficiently well-rested that the short night doesn’t come at an emotional cost later. Of course, there are choices that matter; choices affect thinking and behavior.

A new week begins. In these first moments of Monday I gently remind myself of the work ahead, of the professional self I carry to the office, of how that does or does not fit in with supporting my needs over time. I no longer allow an employer to call my shots as a human being; I am more than the sum of my professional skills.

I miss my traveling partner fiercely. There’s nothing to be done about it, of course, besides tend my heart with care, and honor and respect my emotional experience.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for 'how to miss someone'; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for ‘how to miss someone’; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

I feel vaguely unsettled and uneasy this morning. It’s a small thing. The morning is a quiet and delightfully still morning…but there is a stranger sleeping in the room next to mine. I know, I know… my partner’s Dad. That’s family, right? Well…yes and no. Her family. For me, he’s a man I’ve met a number of times…3? 4? Hung out with briefly. I don’t actually ‘know’ him. I take my partner’s word for it that it is safe to have him in the house – that’s the simple truth of it. He is her family, she vouches for him as a human being. I don’t actually know him. I must have given her an odd look in the evening when she said something pleasant in passing about me having my quiet morning, this morning, since she’d be gone by… because, really, although the morning is quiet, the subtle tense awareness of a stranger in this space is palpable. I don’t really know how to communicate to someone else that this is an uncomfortable feeling for me. I am on alert, waiting…watching the clock.

I remind myself how unlikely it is that anything alarming, dangerous, frightening, or unexpected might happen due to his presence. I take some deep calming breaths. I return my awareness to the moment and cherish my wounded heart that will most likely never trust a human being solely because they are a parent, even of someone I care for (perhaps especially of someone I care for; I know them, and the damage left behind in childhood’s passing).  What reason do I have for that sort of trust? Then in a moment of beautiful perspective, I think of a friend and our broader circle of shared friends, all on ‘baby watch’; she’s past due and eagerly awaiting the birth of her son. How beautiful and wonderful to see a child already so well-loved, waited for, prepared for, who will be received in such total love! She is a woman of remarkable heart and grace, and wholly suited to motherhood, not because she has nothing else to offer the world, but because she chooses to offer her love as a mother, in addition to so much more, and does so skillfully. If I could have chosen someone to mother me, as I headed for mortal form, surely I would choose such as she. So… parents, not all bad. lol

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing 'now'.

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing ‘now’.

Balance. Mindfulness. Perspective. Sufficiency. Today is a good day for big ideas that require only one word. Today is a good day to change the world.