Take Your Mind for a Walk

4 August 2015

Don’t be afraid to open your mind.  Your brain isn’t going to fall out. 

walk, open your mind

 

My normal morning starts with yoga, a bit of writing and some meditation, but yesterday I woke up antsy, my mind already overstuffed and anxious, with a strong urge to get outside to try to clear my head before the day heated up.

The air was cool.  The sky lovely early morning shades of blue.  As I walked, my tension drained away.  Or so I thought.

A couple I didn’t recognize and their dog walked toward me from the other direction of the country road.  I skirted into the grass beside the pavement to give them room but still their dog headed right for me.  The man said to me, “Nosy Nellie, she just wants a sniff,” while letting the leash extend and the dog run up to me.  That quick, I was put out and annoyed.  That quick my mind was fuming:  Why don’t dog owners realize you don’t have the same relationship with their dogs that they do?

This week, without any obvious or good reason, I was discouraged.  I’ve been feeling that I’ve not done enough while simultaneously overwhelmed and with no ambition or energy to do more.  Meanwhile, my friends are expressing their enthusiasm about their lives and their interests.  Their measurable successes and delights are lighting them up.  I was trying not to, but nonetheless feeling like my life was a dim bulb.

I dug out negative patches in my mental garden, but the weedy thoughts have been on a growth spurt.  For each one I pulled, two more shot vigorously up.

But a number of unspectacular things happened this week that helped me.

My husband quietly accepted and cared for me despite my moods.  This heartened me.

walk

Male Carpenter bees, Xylocopa varipuncta, in white lavender blooms

A friend shared her discovery that bees, enchanting little teddy bears, are nestling into the spires of her white lavender to bed down for the night amongst the scented linens of her garden.  This image brought a smile to my lips repeatedly.

And, then, there was that nosey dog.

Because, trailing behind the dog and the man, just as my annoyance was ramping up into the righteous realm, came the woman.  She would not be considered attractive in our world, but the delight of being out with her man and her dog on a perfect summer morning radiated from the broad gleam of her irregular smile, shone like a beautiful beacon of ecstasy from her entire being.  Facing her beatific glow, there was no arguing against life’s inherent and simple goodness.  My annoyance dropped away like the sad, useless thing it was.

Walking the rest of the way home, I wondered if I’d been called out that morning so I could encounter that dog, and then that woman who reminded me that joy or satisfaction can be this close, right outside our door, right under our nose, right on the paths we traverse regularly.  When we are willing to be open, to let the wheel turn, to embrace a change in perspective, we can add to.

The woman and I passed one another, a big surprised smile cracking open my face and widening the one on her own.

Little things can be enough when we’re available to receive the gifts of life, that like bees in lavender, are bedded into the world around us, eager to sprout from within us.

 

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Touchstone – Mental Gardening

31 July 2015

You are the sky.  Everything else — it’s just the weather.  Pema Chödrön 

mental gardening

We have big space inside us.  Countless directions and dimensions in which to navigate within our mental space.

Each and every moment is an opportunity to feel the sky open up.  To let the weather move on by.

It’s a Blue Moon tonight—the second full moon in a single month.  An opportunity to soak up and soak in sky.

Gratitude and best wishes to you all!

 

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Mental Gardening

28 July 2015

We are part of this universe; we are in this universe, but perhaps more important than both of those facts, is that the universe is in us.

~Neil deGrasse Tyson

 

Delightful

This morning, in the middle of a yoga pose, I found myself stewing over a past interaction, steeping myself in a tea of criticism when I could have been, and wanted to be, immersed in a constructive activity.

I do this a lot.  I clutter my awareness with unproductive thoughts that make me feel small and tight.  I let other people, other times, or the worry of the day run the show in my head.

It’s so darn easy to misuse mental space.  And, to lose track of the fact that mental space is a precious resource–a garden we can let get overrun by weeds or a landscape we can tend with care.

What’s going on inside of our heads affects nearly all of our reality.  Mental space is a place worth curating and cultivating.

One aim of Buddhist meditation is to develop an ability to step back from our thoughts and emotions in order to observe them.  From this witnessing vantage point, we realize that we extend beyond the preoccupations of our brain.  Understanding we are larger than the racetrack of our thoughts presents us a door beyond them.

There are doors every where and every time.  In the midst of sorrow, we might find comfort in the beauty of a bloom.  In the midst of anger, we might step away from a hard-held viewpoint long enough to take a breath and enter a place vaster than that of clashing opinions.  The bees buzz.  The earth, miraculous place that it is, spins around the sun, doing what it does to support an incalculable diversity of life.  In each and every moment.

Our lives spin with the earth, constantly closer to that final moment, when our participation here as we know it will come to an irrevocable end.

In each and every moment leading up to this, there are a host of dimensions, legions of footpaths.

I will continue to forget this, to get snagged in a worry, caught up in a hurry, marshaled by a list of chores.  I cannot control my thoughts, or actions, all the time.  But, again and again and yet again, I have the opportunity to notice where I am and reset my compass toward compassion, creativity, delight.

Our minds are like kaleidoscopes—even if all the bits remain more or less the same, one degree of rotation can alter the picture dramatically.

Be on the lookout today.  Name what you’d like to find more of within yourself, and see if the bits in the kaleidoscope begin to align accordingly.  Start a list even if you don’t write it down.  Catch yourself in a mental rut and root around for a bigger, more expansive thought.  Be an explorer searching your own fertile soil for an opportunity to be truly satisfied.  Tonight, review your list.  Did you uncover an unexpected pleasure?  Did you notice unproductive brooding and turn the earth into creative territory?

This morning in yoga, the kaleidoscope shifted.  I tuned back in.  Connecting to a moment of delight was as simple as drawing in oxygen and feeling it saturate stretching muscle fibers.

I think often finding delight is as easy as this.  Both as easy, and as hard, as the willingness to inhabit the moment that is and to apply our selves to it.

 

 

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Touchstone – Inside Friendship

24 July 2015

It is not selfish to love oneself.  A person can give so much to their friends that there is literally nothing left for them.  This is where lonely despair and exhaustion can enter in.  I know this despair, because when I wasn’t actively being friends with myself, I looked outward all the time to receive nourishment from my friends.  Then, if they were unavailable or busy, or we stopped being friends for some reason, it seemed that I had so much less.  

I was measuring how I felt on the inside by what I thought I wasn’t getting on the outside.  

This is very common.   

~ SARK, ‘Fabulous Friendship Festival’

Inside Friendship

 

This week gave me lots of opportunities to work on being a friend to myself. There was a challenging meeting with clients, a gathering with friends where my mind kept edging sideways into critical spaces, a day when every image of myself in a mirror discouraged me.

It’s amazing how sticky negative thoughts can be.  And how much validity I can place in them, not because they’re true, but on account of how repeatedly they’ve run through my head.  Usually they aren’t true.  And never are they the whole truth.

So, I worked on being a better friend to myself by teasing out those critical voices, supporting myself when I wished I’d done something differently, paying attention to my good qualities.  I feel better when I do this.  I can engage more fully.  And give and receive more whole-heartedly.

When we know and care for a fuller, truer picture of ourselves, we gift ourselves and the people around us and we are more able to live as the alive, generous and interesting people we are.

Inside Friendship

Quote and image from Daily Good

 

Beautify your inner dialogue. Beautify your inner world with love light and compassion. Life will be beautiful. 

~Amit Ray

 

 

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Inside Friendship

21 July 2015

Friendship with oneself is all-important, because without it, one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world.  ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

photo-1433650552684-d4004a945d6c

 

I spent last weekend in the company of women.  All of us present  were related, connected by blood or marriage, to a woman who was our grandmother, great-grandmother, or great-great grandmother.  Our ages ranged from 9 to 63.  Amongst us, we contained representation for both sides of the political spectrum and various religious orientations.  Our occupations included teacher, bookkeeper, naturopath, property manager, designer, full-time mother and wife.  Many of us never see each other in between our sporadic reunions and the occasional wedding.  In a lot of ways, you might not think this would work.  Except for this:  There’s a lot of history here.  And, there’s resilient, utterly unstoppable love.

Still, approaching the weekend, I was a bit anxious.  These women are my family and I care for them.  I made a few mental notes about being careful around certain topics and reinforced my desire to enjoy and appreciate each woman.  But I wasn’t sure it would be enough.  I know my insecurities pretty well.

A group of women can be a land mine for me.  I can do a few lightning-quick calculations and find myself to be the least of everything.  Everyone else seems smarter, funnier, wittier, kinder, prettier, more tuned in, more put together, more able than I.  It can be a quick spiral down to a small, dark and disconnected place akin to shame.

Because we tend to hide our struggles and our feelings of inadequacy, it’s not hard to assume everyone else has things wired and to judge our own selves lacking.  To ‘compare and despair’.

A lot of me knows better.  Most of me is on board—eager to enjoy others and laugh easily at myself.  All of me wants to lay aside the judging, the fences, the bracing, the trying to be more than I am.

It was both all the love and all the differences in this group of women that helped me see so clearly how important self-acceptance is to creating friendship and genuine connection.   I think friendship starts within.  It starts with our relationship with ourselves.

I watched these different generations with different income levels in different life stages supporting women who made very different choices than their own.  They could do that from a place of self-knowledge, of valuing the choices they’d made for themselves while accepting that others had to likewise find their own solutions.

When I accept my flawed self, I move out of the comparison game.  When I make peace with my imperfections, I don’t need as much external validation.  Creating comfort within lets me require less from others.  Which in turn lets me show up and listen, open-minded and eager to add to—the way we create substantial friendships.

My body is still bubbling from that bountiful dose of good women.  I am so grateful to every one of them for the joy and wisdom of their unique paths.  Each one extended herself and made herself available.  We all laughed and shared, played together and pitched in on the work, listened to one another and cared.  We had amazing fun.

They have shown me so clearly that learning to befriend ourselves, we will find ourselves walking in a world full of friends.

 

Posted in Being Authentic, Connection, Courage, Giving up on perfectionism, Trust | Tagged , , | 8 Comments

Touchstone – Heroism, Close and Personal

17 July 2015

Courage is found in unlikely places.  ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Ordinary Heroes

Frodo and his pals – Lord of the Rings

As I looked at the people in my life this week thinking of their hero stories, it occurred to me to turn the viewer around to face the other direction, too.  The people who we see as heroes go home to their families, their day-to-day life, the same kind of routines and obligations we all must tend to.  They worry, flounder, brush their teeth, act annoying and irritating.  Like everyone else.

When I was a young adult, I thought most everyone else had things wired.  From the outside it looked like they had terrific marriages, always knew what to wear when, could throw a party effortlessly right down to the pie with a perfect crust.  It seemed they didn’t question everything about their lives.  Like I constantly did.  I spent a lot of energy trying not to look out of place, in over my head, uncertain.

What I see now is that it’s in the face of vulnerability that we get to know our own mettle and develop our own strengths.  The hero’s test is inherently a difficult trial with high stakes and obscure outcomes.  This test defines the hero and if she prevails, it provides experience and wisdom that she then weaves into the fabric of her life — the true reward.

We are unlikely heroes perhaps.  So was Frodo.

 

It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.  ~Mark Twain

 

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Heroism, Close and Personal

14 July 2015

 

heroism

I fell in love with a guy when I was 18.  In the forty years since, that love has wobbled and wavered, been tested in a 1,000 different ways, and felt as if it has broken apart completely at various times, breaking me apart along with it.  I’ve survived.  Our marriage has thrived.

Because I’ve seen my husband’s courage in reaching out in spite of his wounds.  Because of me hitting rock bottom only to realize there was still more that I needed to give.  Because of big and small acts of courage.

I think most of us are valiant and determined with our caring.

 

Hero— a person who,in the face of danger and adversity or from a position of weakness, displays courage or self-sacrifice for some greater good.    ~ Wiki

 

Acts of heroism are all around us.  I’m not just referring to the police or the good Samaritan.  I mean by the people in your daily life and mine.

Who has not faced big odds all stacked against them?  A truly terrifying unknown?  Exhaustion in the face of what had to be done?

If you look for it, heroism shows up in lots of ways.

It’s choosing a different path because, despite inherent obstacles, the less traveled one feels more authentic.

It’s rising up, one small step at a time, from the deeply cut wounds of a destructive parent.

It’s living with a child’s grave illness, every breath a whispered prayer for his well-being.

It’s building back from debilitating pain.

It’s opening our minds to beliefs that challenge our own and giving them the space to be equally true.

It’s being 23, opening the door to your brothers in the middle of the night to hear the news that our father has died that day.

The last story is mine  The others belong to people close to me.  There are countless more.  You know things like this about your friends, too.

hero

A man that still inspires courage

 

“A hero is someone who, in spite of weakness, doubt, or not always knowing the answers, goes ahead and overcomes anyway.”  ~Christopher Reeve

 

There never seemed anything remotely courageous about how I hauled myself through the devastation of my father’s death, but eventually I got to the place where I could honor my feelings for him by remembering him with a genuine smile on my face.

We are privileged to know these intimate parts of our friends’ lives and to see where their road has come from.  We are in a position to appreciate their unique strides forward.

Swishing their capes and brandishing their super powers, Superheroes are cheered on as they strike down oppression or save a child from an archvillain.  Our daily efforts are usually neither obvious nor dramatic, but in our own ways, we often do equally demanding things, usually without validation.

It’s easy for me to take people and their actions for granted.  My friends don’t wear skintight leotards most of the time.  Their special power gadget is the magic but commonplace iPhone.  Like me, they need to brush their teeth in the morning.  Also, like me, they can be annoying or irritating at times.  We’re all ‘too human’.

Which makes helping each other out that much more important.

We need acknowledgement.  A few words from a friend that help us face something scary.  A moment of being known that gives us heart to walk into the dark.

Our lives are the opportunity for this kind of journey again and again.

Can we listen for the acts of courage?  Spot the heroism that comes from facing weakness or doubt?  And from that vantage point, can we support each other’s strengths?

This week I am reminding myself of the ways each person I love has traversed a narrow ledge above a steep drop.

What did you do today that was hard and heroic?  Did you push through a fear on behalf of a greater good?  Offer more than you were confident you had?  Instead of criticizing, did you dig deep for compassion?  Instead of defending, did you soften?

What would you consider the hero’s journey of your life?  If your friends don’t know this about you, and perhaps you’re just now seeing it yourself, can you share it?  What about letting the people you care for see you, and be seen, in this brave way?

 

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Touchstone – Being What We Are

10 July 2015

kindness

My eye is still twitching.  The work I’ve done around it, both physical and emotional, hasn’t made it go away.  I wish it had.  I wish that there was always a direct relationship between effort out and desired result.  Often, things don’t work that way.

But I think it’s our attitudes that matter most, regardless of outcomes.

Discussing our striving for perfection and our inevitable shortfalls, a friend reminded me of the importance of treating ourselves with kindness.  Of offering ourselves the same caring we would extend to a friend.  Talking about this naturally strengthened our commitments to compassion.  We extended giving and receiving within a relationship we both value.  As it turns out, I have been given so many gifts as a result of this relatively trivial annoyance and the host of things it brought up within me.

I’m moving on, eye twitch or no.  It’s the weekend.  I’m going to do some happy dancing.  I hope you are, too!

Christine Carter

Thanks to sociologist and author Christine Carter for her thought-provoking blog and her Thursday Thoughts.

 

 

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Being What We Are

7 July 2015

 

Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. 

There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.

~ Leonard Cohen

 

courage

 

It’s so tempting to want to be what we aren’t.  It’s easy to compare myself and feel inadequate.  Often, I resist what is because it doesn’t match my expectation or desire.

This week I’ve had a twitchy eye.  A snag of muscle energy is jerking the skin beneath my left eye.  I’ve tried massaging and pressure pointing it, icing it, stilling my thoughts and breathing into it.  It’s persisted, becoming tiring in the way that small, nearly insignificant things can somehow wear us down.

Worse is that the twitch embarrasses me.  I’ve loaded it with implications about myself, feeling like the spasm conveys I’m anxious, or out of control, possibly even shifty and untrustworthy.  That little yank of muscle is betraying me, exposing vulnerability and imperfection.

I know I’m both vulnerable and imperfect, but broadcasting these qualities willy-nilly makes me uncomfortable.  When I think of people with conditions that routinely reveal their differences from the norm, I’m humbled by the courage they live every day.  Really only because I’ve been unable to prevent the twitch, I dug down into it.

Underneath my discomfort lies the desire to appear strong, capable, reliable.  And deeper—to appear perfect without conveying a hint of the strain of trying to carry this off.  Even deeper is insecurity, a part of me that wants to hide flaws behind a perfect image.

It doesn’t really work.  Not in the long-term.  And striving for it  isn’t actually rewarding. Because perfectionism is the bed where shame nestles right in and gets cozy.  Perfectionism is the driver, whip in hand, pushing for the judgements about what is right and what is wrong that are so often divisive.  Perfectionism is the sly voice that whispers about what to cover up with a facade or who to tear down in order to make ourselves look better.

Striving for perfection keeps us from being authentic when what actually nourishes us is being seen and being known.  When what actually connects us is letting the light in on what we are and what we might need understanding or help with.  When what actually supports thriving is marching right into our imperfections and blending them in with the strengths that let each of us be a unique and important part of our world.

Despite rationally understanding this dynamic, it’s still hard for me to disentangle from the desire to hide my flaws.  But laying awake at night, my body abuzz like a hive of bees, anxious about approval ratings, it’s clear I’m thinking about myself more like a tv program than a living, growing person.

We all make numerous mistakes, some of them perhaps nearly unbearable.  We’re all human which means we carry wounds that fray our ability to be kind, or truthful, or content.

Perfection won’t happen.  What will?

I pushed this little twitch aside for a while, trying to ignore an inconvenience.  Because I couldn’t control it, I ended up reluctantly trying to make peace with it.  In the end, it became a chance to explore the meanings I made of it, a reminder to value the person within, an opportunity to deepen my commitment to let myself be vulnerable and real.

What little thing in your life is wanting to talk to you?  Can you take some time and listen in?

 

Transforming your fragility into courageous imperfection is the beginning of a lot more joy.        

~ Courtney E. Martin, from her essay on white fragility and the issue of racism.  See full essay here in the On Being newsletter.

 

 

 

Posted in Being Authentic, Courage, Facing fear, Giving up on perfectionism, Joy, Vulnerability | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Touchstone – Knowing it will end

3 July 2015

thanks to Elijah for the photo!  and the memory!

thanks to Elijah for the photo! and the memory!

 

It’s easy to acknowledge the singularity of each life in a theoretical way, but much harder for me to absorb this reality in a way that impacts how I live.   It’s easy to say, almost flippantly, you only live once.  It’s much harder for me to let this truth instruct me and guide the actions I take.  So, I am working to break carpe diem down in to individual days, each one unique, a one-time-only opportunity, and to let this perspective help inform my living, my decisions, the expansion of my heart.

It’s the last day of my week in the mountains with my family tribe.  More of what was once future has slid into the past, sands of time falling in their one irreversible way.

There is a wisdom about how to appreciate the three tenses of time–past, present and future–in our lives.  We can anticipate an event before it happens, experience the moment fully as it is in the present tense, and then finally, pause to savor it as a memory.  Each time stage has its own richness.  Each rounds out our lives.  They all contribute to the fullness of our days.

I am looking forward to this last day of tribal vacation.  I know that on the trip home, my husband and I will review highlights, a ritual we enjoy after special days or events.  It is part of our stepping into that step of savoring.  Sharing, we enrich both our individual experiences, our gratitude for the people in our lives and the memories we’ve made with them.

It’s a mini-version of the whole life course.

What things are you looking forward to?  What moments are you living that you will soon be savoring?  What are some of your favorite memories?  One day at a time, we create these lives we live.

 

“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”                                     ~ Dr. Seuss

 

 

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