Archives for posts with tag: The Art of Being

I spent much of yesterday quite sick. That seems to be mostly behind me now, and the morning starts easily. I woke gently, and with the alarm, feeling very much that I would sleep longer if it were not a work day. The morning has been thoroughly routine and rather nice.

Although I was quite ill yesterday with some dreadful stomach virus or another that has been going around, by the end of the evening, quite late, I was feeling some better. I was headed to bed at that point, but paused the end of day processes after turning off the lights, just to sit quietly enjoying the sound of rain, and the sound of the wind blowing. The earlier part of the evening doesn’t stand out for me at all, just the singularly peaceful, lovely, quiet moment there at the end. I sat for some time, relaxed, content, and satisfied with life and love, listening to the sounds of the world beyond the walls, and feeling night settle in. The apartment was dark, and I opened the patio blinds to silhouette the Giftmas tree in the evening light of the walk-way lamp just beyond the patio, twinkling off the raindrop gems that covered the patio door glass. I sat, quietly, for some long-ish while, breathing, being, and enjoying that quiet moment until I noticed I had shifted from meditation to drowsiness.

One day ends, another begins; life is good.

One day ends, another begins; life is good.

The day between the morning and the night was unremarkable aside from being quite sick. I took care of this fragile vessel as best I could, and got as much rest as being sick would allow, hoping to be over the worst of it today – which has worked out nicely; I am enough better to resume normal work, I think, which is appropriate to a Wednesday. An appointment on my calendar for today turns out to be for a later date; I had read the appointment notification incorrectly, and correct my calendar, pleased to have caught the error in advance. I sip my coffee contentedly, preparing for the day. Small successes add up. I don’t quite feel great, but I sure don’t feel bad.

Begin again.

Begin again.

Sometimes it is the smallest moments of joy, the small bits of progress, that carry the day; they grow large in my experience when I linger on them, savor them, and invest in them. It’s enough.

I am groggy this morning. As I scrolled through my feeds, skimming headlines, I felt a sad tug on my heart to see so much violence and hate. It’s hard to watch. Fear and anger escalating with the excessive media use of buzzwords and sensationalism to gain readers (and dollars), and more or less mostly innocent citizen bystanders (consumers) caught in that sticky web of emotion and salesmanship. I found myself actually feeling physically ill, and surprised by the intensity of my reaction – then realized I was probably nauseous from my medication this morning.

It is easy to be swept away by powerful emotions.

It is easy to be swept away by powerful emotions.

I heard footsteps run past my front door, which is unusual at any hour in this neighborhood, and somewhat alarming at 5:45 am. Combined with the negative headlines, I feel my anxiety creeping up, and ‘home defense’ drifts across my thought-scape. I recognize the trend, and pause for a few deep breaths, taking time to re-engage in ‘now‘; I am okay right now, and there is nothing in my real experience of the  morning to cause me fear or hurt me. It’s pouring rain outside, and a stranger running by is likely just trying to get from the parking lot to the front door without being drenched. Fear doesn’t care about reason, and I find more often than not that taking time to be present in this moment right here, and awake, aware, and mindful there is nothing for fear to build on. There are plenty of terrifying ‘what-if’ scenarios I could run in my head, and even make life decisions on, but it seems a foolish waste of limited mortal lifetime, when there is also so much joy in which I could invest, and partake.

Violence does exist. Choosing not to live minute-to-minute defending myself from fear of violence is one of many possible choices. I have friends who choose differently, and live prepared for violence with an ample arsenal of firearms, open carry permits, and weekend visits to the range for target practice just in case violence ever visits them at home. I have other friends who choose to live with the fear of violence, and without taking any particular steps to secure their own safety, just taking on the fear itself, deepening and investing in it, and letting their fear drive their decisions and rhetoric. I have friends who do neither; they are not convinced that violence exists in any real sense, they have experienced little of it themselves and for them it is very far away and abstract. I know people, they are not those I would call ‘friend’, who live differently with violence; they are violent. People who lash out in anger, seeking to do harm, to injure, to be avenged, to punish – they see themselves as righteous and justified, doing what is ‘right’ or ‘necessary’, and don’t recognize the damage done as being in any way wrong. I see them out in the world, snarling at their loved ones on cell phones, or on the bus, spewing righteous anger and vexation in interactions with strangers – people they couldn’t possibly know well enough to hate – and treating their loved ones even worse. The headlines tell the tale of each of the many sorts of human beings interacting with each other. Violence added to the mix generates sales headlines. Scary sort of world we’ve built, isn’t it? We’ve chosen this. You and I – all of us together – this is the world we have made.

How will I make the world better, myself, in some small way? How will you? If enough of us just keep at it, can we turn this thing around? It probably begins with small simple things, like not yelling at your partner in a moment of anger, or like really listening when a woman is talking about the challenges in her experience of being female, or like taking a deep breath and not freaking out when something goes wrong, and maybe also putting down the handheld devices and making eye contact – and conversation. Setting aside the inflammatory news articles might also be a good start, and maybe sharing positive news more often than negative news could be helpful, too. We could cast our vote with great care, really thinking about the consequences of our choice, by thinking ahead to ‘our’ candidate winning, and imagining the reality of every one of their stated policies becoming real – what would that be like for us? For those people over there? For someone else? We could fact check our fears, too, that might be useful, and refrain from getting into emotionally driven arguments with people when neither involved party has an educated insight into the issues, rather than just spewing emotional garbage at each other until someone gets hurt. We could approach every interaction with another human being as though that other human being is (they are) every bit as human as we are, ourselves – and fully due the same consideration and courtesy we would enjoy experiencing, and then behave that way. We could each simply not kill someone today, or tomorrow, and also refrain from voting for – or hiring – people who seem to favor violence, killing, or incarceration as a solution to the world’s problems. We could invest more of our global resources in human life, than in ending it – both right here and home, and over there on foreign shores.

Domestic violence is not a separate thing from war. Child abuse is not a separate thing from terrorism. Hate is hate. Fear is fear. Abuse of power isn’t less abusive when it is between a parent and a child than it is between an elected leader and the constituency, or between law enforcement and a citizen – but we’ve trained ourselves to excuse so much violence in the day-to-day social landscape that we are ill-equipped to reject it at all. Enraged screaming, slamming things, and breaking stuff at home is not a far distance to travel to murder – and tolerating it socially by making excuses for domestic violence is not a far distance to travel to sending strangers children to die in foreign wars by voting for fear-mongering xenophobic extremists. Seriously. We are each so very human… Fear is easy. Anger is easy. Hate is easy. We have the potential to offer each other so much more. Choose. You can, and so can I – and we do.

This seems glum this morning. I don’t mean it to, honestly. I feel rather hopeful – the very power to choose that finds us here with the world in the state it is,  is so profoundly powerful that we have each moment, this moment, every moment, to choose differently. I guess that while that is indeed incredibly hopeful and promising, it’s a tad glum too, because the people who could benefit the world by choosing differently than they do are not likely to be the people who read the words I write – and I am just one voice. I am regularly cautioned that I am ‘not being realistic’ or that I ‘don’t understand violence’ – often based on the assumption that I have little experience with it. It’s frustrating – sometimes frustrating enough to evoke actual anger, a powerful reminder of how easily we could be tempted to stray into the realm of violence ourselves, in a moment of emotion.

Be love.

Be love.

Here’s the thing though, the hopeful bit, we really do have the power to choose change. It’s a good day to change the world.

This morning I am fighting off unexpected nausea. I am in more than usual pain. I am still in a pretty good mood, and mostly enjoying the morning in spite of the discomfort. It helps, this morning, that I am feeling encouraged by how yesterday evening unfolded.

Moments of encouragement or unexpected joy are some of life's most beautiful ornaments.

Moments of encouragement or unexpected joy are some of life’s most beautiful ornaments.

I left work at a good time, realizing as I walked home in more pain than usual that I had forgotten to take my mid-day Rx pain relief. By the end of the day, no surprise that I was in pain. I thought no more of it, I felt good otherwise, and it had been a productive work day. I knew I could also count on my vape pen, and medical cannabis, and I wasn’t stressed about the small miss on my medication. The battery on my vape pen flashed at me right about then, to let me know it was also done for the day. No big deal; I would just recharge it at home…

…A bit more than an hour later, and sometime after arriving home, I had determined with certainty that my vape pen’s battery had actually just up and quit. Well. In the meantime I had experienced some serious frustration troubleshooting it, and frustration being my kryptonite, here’s the part where I generally continue to talk about some serious challenge, a wrecked evening, and the efforts involved in getting a better outcome as quickly as possible… only… last night wasn’t like that. Sure, I got wrapped up in the troubleshooting of a small replaceable device that I would not be able to repair, regardless, when I could have been enjoying hanging the new wreath on the front door, enjoying a good cup of coffee or tea, having a bite of dinner, or a long hot shower… in general, I could have been taking care of me, and enjoying my evening, instead of immersing myself in some minutes of frustration. Here’s the thing, though – I didn’t wreck my evening, and neither did the frustration, and I identified the start of that damaging pattern of behavior, and put myself on pause long enough to become engaged and present in the moment I was in, and to give myself an opportunity to re-evaluate what actions would really meet my needs best, both short and long-term. No tears.

I set aside the frantic and frustrated troubleshooting. I have a back up vape pen of another brand, no problem. I ordered a replacement battery for my preferred one. I started some dinner, put on the kettle for a cup of tea, and hung the wreath on my door. I sat down to enjoy an email from a dear friend, and to enjoy a cute selfie my partner sent me earlier in the day. I took care of me, and did so with my full attention. The evening ended well. I didn’t lose my mind over some small thing, or panic because I’d missed on my medication, or frustrate myself into becoming enraged. Pretty cool.

"Welcome home" I think to myself for no obvious reason.

“Welcome home” I think to myself for no obvious reason.

This morning I am getting a slow start, and that’s okay; it’s a good morning to linger over progress, and to savor the small practices that have, over time, changed my experience so very much. Today is a good day to be the change, and to become the woman I most want to be. 🙂

This morning I have been gently plagued by a subtle sensation of having overlooked something, or that ‘something is missing’ or forgotten. After some moments, I realized I hadn’t made coffee. Later on, I notice I have forgotten to switch off the burner on the stove. Later still I notice that I was distracted while dressing – and have one fuzzy spa sock on, and one sturdy warm hiking sock. I know one thing with certainty; I have not been starting my day from a mindful place. Fortunately, the solution is both simple and low-cost.. there are, of course, verbs involved. 🙂

Loving begins with the woman in the mirror.

Loving begins with the woman in the mirror.

I slow myself down, taking time to breathe – really breathe, without being distracted by things other than this moment, this breath. I notice the tension in my shoulders, and the eagerness in my approach to beginning the day – sloppy, inattentive, but enthusiastic. I let the tension fall away, breathing, and letting the sensation and experience of breathing be enough to fill this moment. I let my awareness extend and expand, embracing the coziness of my wee home, and the warmth and joy of the beats playing on the stereo – K-Lab “Out the Door” starts the day with energy and movement. Movement becomes dance, and I stay engaged in this moment, allowing my sense of self and place to be fluid, feeling stiff joints begin to move more easily, pain begins to ease, the smile on my face settles into something soft, without edges, fearless and joyful. Dance is another sort of meditation altogether – and I smile, thinking of dancers other than I – ‘real ones’, professionals, committed amateurs of great skill, passionate performers of public art, I am awed by that kind of devotion to an art form – the sort whereby ones entire physical being is transformed almost into another sort of creature entirely. I am not that sort of dancer – I’m the 52-year-old version of a teenager dancing in front of her mirror; I enjoy the way dancing feels and any appearance of skill in any one moment is pure coincidence, and that’s totally okay.

I dance through all manner of small chores: dishes, making up the bed, tidying this and that, cleaning the bathroom. The morning no longer feels like something has been overlooked, and between meditation, and dancing, I find myself feeling ‘reconnected’ to myself, to my own experience, and no longer on auto-pilot. It is a cold morning (outside) and my bones seem to know it, they crack and pop as I move, but the aching isn’t bad today, and I am in less pain than on many other mornings. I consider the matter of ‘auto pilot’ for some minutes, wondering at the balance between needing/using it – and allowing life to slip by on programming that is reliably adequate to pass time but hardly counts as ‘living’. I very much prefer to live life, mistakes and all. It’s taken a while to be certain of that, and there have certainly been some moments when it has been frightening to let go of some long-standing habit I have relied on in order to embrace a truly unscripted authentic experience of living life. Totally worth it.

I sit back for a moment and consider how positive and… good…things have been lately. I find myself wondering a tad insecurely whether I am less interesting without the day-to-day struggling and suffering – followed by a moment of puzzlement afterward that such a worry could even be a thing. I sometimes worry that I may stray into bragging, or smugness, or complacency, or a feeling of superiority – or a sense of having finished this journey prematurely somehow. This quantity of good days is unfamiliar, new territory on this journey of mine – I am unlikely to take it for granted, but words are devilishly subtle, often giving away what seems hidden from the writer’s view. I know that I want to communicate that incremental change over time is a real thing, that we can improve our individual experience of our circumstances – and even our circumstances themselves – and that it is possible to wade through all the chaos and damage to reach another place entirely… but… I very much want to do so in a way that is inclusive, and reaches beyond my own limited mortal experience to some distant point out there, where you are – or someone else – reading these words, looking for something to hold on to, whatever that might be. I want to say ‘You can do this! See? I did… which surely means it is doable!”… I most specifically do not intend a message of  ‘ha ha, look where I got and you aren’t here’ – a message which would be both very cruel, and also a serious indication I hadn’t gotten very far at all, really. I maintain a certain tender concern that I not cause harm through carelessly communicating effortlessness, or ease – there really are verbs involved – but I earnestly also want to shout from the roof tops “you can do this! we all can do this!” hoping someone might feel just a little less alone or discouraged, out there on their own journey through the chaos and damage.

Every morning a new start, every horizon a new destination, and every moment a new experience.

Every morning a new start, every horizon a new destination, and every moment a new experience.

…And, let’s be real, I’m both pleased and grateful to be in this better place than I’ve ever been before. Celebrating that is a worthy thing. I am taking those steps that move life from surviving to thriving – one at a time, with plenty of practice, and pausing to return to mindfulness when I notice that feeling that something is missing. 🙂

It’s the last day of a long holiday weekend. I generally wrap up long weekends or vacations with chores, the sort of day-to-day housekeeping sorts of things that return life the a more practical experience consistent with ordinary days, and weeks, eventually putting a bit of distance between the experience of celebration, and the experience of ‘everyday life’. This morning I find myself engaged in many of those same practical endeavors, but somehow still celebrating, still wrapped in joy, still feeling grateful… I’m not bitching. I’m finding it quite wonderful, and making a point to invest generously in this morning of practical joy, and everyday gratitude.

This morning it feels very ‘natural’ to feel grateful while I sort laundry, to feel joy while I empty the dishwasher, to feel a sense of worthiness while I vacuum. I won’t dissect the feelings right now – it is worthwhile to embrace and enjoy them, to savor this moment and let it become more of who I am. Sure, there are verbs involved, and it’s taken a lot of practicing of a variety of practices – many of them incredible difficult to pursue at a time when I didn’t value or appreciate the woman in the mirror. Getting to this place where it feels natural to feel good, and feels natural to celebrate, and to enjoy my experience, has taken almost 3 years now (more, I could count way further back, but my path took a significant turn about 3 years ago) of practicing, of meditation, of study, of learning to treat myself well, of learning to love – and to allow myself to be loved in return – there have been (and are, and will be) verbs involved – and a personal commitment to action, to change, and to beginning again when things don’t work out well, and letting go of attachment to expectations, and outcomes.

The most delightful thing about being here, this morning, on this day, feeling the way I do right now is that there will be other days when I am having a different experience altogether – and I will know to treat myself well, I will know that challenging moments and experiences will pass, and I will know that however bad it is, I will be able to begin again. I’ll have this moment, right here, to remind me of the vast potential for joy and gratitude – and delight, and love – that is near at hand when I am ready and able to reach for it. It’s a pretty big deal to find an emotional anchor to a moment of profound contentment and delight within reach in other less pleasant moments, it’s an even bigger deal to build one with my own choices.

There is value in learning to allow joy to cast a bigger shadow than my sorrows do.

There is value in learning to allow joy to cast a bigger shadow than my sorrows do.

Today is a good day for practical celebrations and taking care of home and hearth with the eager commitment of preparing for an honored guest, to really welcome the woman in the mirror home. She is worthy of the best I have to offer the world.