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Category Archives: mindfulness

Daily Prompt: 1984

Today’s Daily Prompt:

You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room:

What is an excellent “W” question… however, my greatest fear would be who is in the room with me. And the answer, strangely enough, is me.

My greatest fear would be to find myself locked in a room with a hellish, unrelenting loop playing out, my own version of Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol,”  narrated by an empty, unfulfilled, cowed and shriveled future embodiment of myself.  The unspeakable torment of no escape from confronting my own pain filled eyes boring the question into my deepest soul, over and over again, “Why? Why didn’t you truly live?”

But, as with Dickens’ Ebenezer Scrooge… I have, within me, the ability to change this scenario. I am living and breathing today and I am not in that room. It is not too late.

What is your greatest fear? Do you, ultimately, have power over it…or it over you?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Resolved

flatscreen tv

Yes. My first photo challenge, ever, and I am submitting a grainy, less than perfect cell phone photograph. It’s a picture (in case you can’t make it out) of my darkened flat screen television. The manufacturer will probably be pleased you can’t read their logo. But it represents two interrelated New Year resolutions:

Resolved: I watch less; I participate more. I’m turning off manufactured, artificial, air brushed life and I’m turning on fun, scary, delicious, problematic, painful, joyous, outrageous real life.  Genuine people. Actual opportunities.

Resolved: I embrace imperfection; fear does not hold me back. Waiting until I can do something perfectly (as in waiting until I take a perfectly composed, perfectly exposed picture) means I waste opportunities to experience new things in life and I lose, sometimes forever, a unique chance to feel, to test my beliefs, to grow and to learn new things about myself, other people, other cultures, our planet.

What a difference a year can make. One year ago, to the day, I felt the fear and I did it anyway. I Googled WordPress and I opened an account. I started a blog.  Twelve short months?…but hundreds and hundreds of tiny baby steps, most of them imperceptible to a casual observer’s eye. I’m not looking back to see where I was, I’m absolutely savoring where I am. And I’m looking forward, with excitement!, at where I’m going.

Best wishes to WordPress and all my fellow bloggers

for a happy, healthy, and joyous 2013

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/01/04/weekly-photo-challenge-resolved/

Five And Gone Rule

I’m adopting a new perspective. By choice. Willful (and will probably be very difficult) choosing.  I’m adopting a new “five second rule” not unlike the restaurant version. You know the one?…. the rule (or urban legend, what have you) that says if a piece of food falls to the ground, if it is swooped up before five seconds have elapsed, that it wasn’t contaminated… or not enough that it still can’t be eaten.

I’m going to sidestep addressing the original food issue, here.  But what occurred to me yesterday is that there needs to be a five second rule about thought contamination.

Sometimes a really odd (or distressing…or disgusting, or…) thought comes into one’s mind and you don’t know WHERE it came from, but you don’t want it circling around up there. It’s just… weird. Or wrong. Or just plain awful, in some way.  And you generally have no idea, whatsoever, where it came from. Even worse… sometimes, you do.

I’m going to try a new perspective. If I stop… recognize it for what it is, a random fluttering, from wherever, and not something I truly hope for, embrace, believe in… and I immediately send it back on its way?… then I am not contaminated by it. Such a thought doesn’t have to cause any more distress or take up even one more second of my time.

This is my new thought “five second rule” :  There’s NO bad karma attached to a random, unsettling thought that pops into my head, uninvited, if I immediately sweep it right back out of my mind again.

What do you think about a Five And Gone Rule?

the 99%, the 1%…and polishing my courage

Here in the U.S. we seem to be tossing around percentages a lot lately. Especially “the 99%” and “the 1%.”  Count me as a proud ’99%-er’ who never aspires to be a ’1%-er.’  Ever. But, then, my life lesson I’m working on isn’t about occupying anything but myself…and doing it the very best that I can.

On July 4th, my daughter, my dog, and I had just gone through the McDonald’s drive thru and had turned onto a busy, six lane road. We were driving along and I decided (with my driver’s seat controls) to roll up my daughter’s window the five or six inches it was open. It’s a two door car, the window quite long, and I didn’t want my dog to manage to get her entire head through it. I pulled up on the window lever, the window started to go up and all of the sudden a loud crash…. the entire window instantaneously shattered inward. The glass landed all over my daughter’s lap, the area space between the seat and the door, and on the back seat and floor.

The loud noise, the glass falling inward… my daughter and I had shrieked, at the same time, same octave. My first thought was… what??? WHAT??? A bullet? A wrist rocket? My daughter, still holding the McDonald’s bag in her hand, was completely in shock…staring at me with eyes and mouth wide open. She said, “mom, the glass is going to cut me!”  I told my daughter to stay still, that it was going to be ok, that auto glass isn’t like regular glass. I immediately began looking for room to change lanes so that I could pull over and get off the road. All around us, cars still driving along as though nothing happened.

Once we parked, I helped my daughter carefully get out of the car, then flipped the seat forward and took my dog out. I searched the car and found… nothing but glass. I mentally retraced our path, replaying the scenario, over and over. We had been en route to see a fireworks show and, soon, one of my girlfriends arrived that we had been headed to meet for the fireworks show.

We all just stared at the mess, completely dumbfounded… my daughter and I still shaking and trying hard to calm ourselves.

Making a long story short (no, there’s no hope at this point), I used a shop vac at a nearby gas station to vacuum the bulk of the glass from my car. My friend drove my daughter and my dog back to my place, so they didn’t have to sit in seats that still, no matter the vacuuming, had glass on them. I parked in my spot at my apartment, emptied the glove box of all my personal belongings, taped plastic over my window, locked the car (in theory), went back to my apartment and hoped for the best. The next day I called my insurance and a glass technician with a mobile glass company came and replaced the window. Much as I wanted to attach logic and cause, etc, to the situation… there really was none. The technician gave me an explanation that “sometimes, widows just do that.” Dust can accumulates in the tracks and yadda yadda and then yadda yadda…I don’t know all other factors. But, the end result is: sometimes windows shatter in the blink of an eye, no warning.

Yesterday — nearly two months later — I was turning into my apartment complex and started to roll up the passenger window in my car. I realize that my shoulders were rising, muscles tensing. Part of me still steels myself against the possibility, each time now, rolling up the window, that it will come crashing down again.

But I reminded myself that I have driven <mumble mumble> many years and alllll those years… no window has ever shattered like that in any of my cars before. Nor in any of my parents’ cars. Or my friends’ cars. And the list goes on. Not too many people have ever even heard of such a thing happening. Let alone the fact I’ve never known anyone else that actually had it happen to them.

So, I figure the percentages are with me. And that’s how I need to proceed…that needs to be my focus if I am to not drive around with either the widows always rolled up… or not have internal dread and quivering start, every time I go to roll up a widow that I was brave enough to roll down.

And the life lesson hit me, immediately after (as it so, so often does)…and thus I subject share it with you here. :-)

I have let fear — fear of many other types — also inhibit me, particularly lately, as I travel in the no-man’s-land (pun intended) that is post divorce.  In real and practical ways, I am living life like it’s a widow that has shattered and now, at any moment, will shatter again.

Even if I go as far as to say that I *have* lived through some shattering widows in my life (which can be debatable, depending on our definition in this metaphor)… regardless, I have always, always, ALWAYS cleaned them up, and gone on about my life. Just as I did with the car widow.

I am not flaunting or taunting fate. I am not begging the universe to “bring it on!”  By no means. But I realize that sometimes… metaphorical ‘widows’ just shatter in the blink of an eye, no warning. And, when they do, resilient people clean up the glass, usually seek help, get it taken care of the best they can… and then they get on with life again.

Resilient people…healthy people… think about and focus on the percentages. They act in accordance with the 99% of times that things go right, not crawl under a rock, terrified and unwilling to face the 1% of times that they don’t. They practice each day… they are polishing their courage, each and every day they get out there and do their best.

Ripe — with possibilities!

In recent weeks, I’ve been picking lots of blackberries. The nature area behind me is covered with blackberry bushes, free to anyone who is willing to plow into the bramble and avoid critters who live there. Because I LOVE blackberries: raw, jammin’, or over vanilla ice cream…I’ve perfected a successful system that involves gloves, clippers, and a large, opened cardboard box :-)

In spending quiet time in such a beautiful setting, I became contemplative (as writers often do) and I weighed the evidence before me:  Same bush, same sunshine, same moisture… but each bush is covered in berries that are in all different stages of ripening. The berries seem to set on at about the same time, but each ripens at its own speed, even on the same plant, even on the very same branch.

At any given time, late June to early August, one can find some berries ripe and ready!…bursting with deep purple hued, softly plump little drupelets, while others are green or reddish in color, firm to the touch (and really really tart! if tasted, I might add).

People are like that, don’t you think?  Same age, similar environments. Sometimes originate from the very same “vine” even… but different ripening schedules.

I’m giving up trying to figure out how/why some folks seem to progress faster or slower than others to that mature, purple hued glow.

I’m striving for mindfulness, for acceptance – of others, of myself.

We ripen on our own schedule.

Da feet shall not conquer me!

My youngest daughter is very active in Special Olympics. Right now we are in softball and golf season. Needless to say, there have been some distraught coaches, recently, when my daughter began having trouble hitting the ball.  Both!  Softball *and* golf ball.

This wouldn’t be a problem, per se, because we strive for improvement, not perfection, in Special Olympics.  But my daughter hadn’t had this problem last year. Or the year before that. Etc. So everyone wanted to know… “What gives??”

If last practice is to be believed… it was tennis shoes that were too tight. Although mom had repeatedly asked her about the shoes her dad bought her (without her being present)…she had assured me “they’re FINE!!!”   “Mom….they FIT, okaaaayyyyyy!!!??”

We are trying to streamline the “back and forth” process for her transitioning, weekly, from one home to the other. So this past week, we decided to go buy her another pair of tennis shoes so she can have a pair at each home.  So, off we went… in search of that awesome pair of tennis shoes, without an awesome price tag.

We found a clearance pair (hallelujah!), which she wore to golf practice Monday. The results were nothing short of amazing.  It turns out, all those coaching admonitions for her to “put her weight more forward on her feet” (both sports) were not going to happen in tennies that were too tight.

We had missed this simple, but critical, factor.  Sometimes your “swing” in life isn’t about your arms …or the club …or bat.

In looking at my situation this week, facing my problems head on, I have elected to start at the proverbial bottom.  Am I taking care of my “feet?”  In other words… am I well grounded? Am I practicing healthy spiritual, physical and emotional habits which give me foundation and balance? Am I doing those things which will help me put my weight more forward, and result in a better “swing” ????

How about you? ….do you have any too tight tennis shoes that you might be overlooking?

Whence comes the clutter?

I’m on a clutter-busting mission.

And I have Shakespeare in my head.

‘Strange bedfellows’ you might be thinking. Or not…since that phrase is yet another darn bit from some Shakespeare play. Well, some of us are cursed blessed with bits and pieces of long ago memorized paragraphs of literature that come shooting across our mental bow at weird times. And, my dear friends, Romans, countrymen who are lending me your ear…you know who you are.

OK. The anti-clutter/Shakespeare mashup:

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous disorganization,
Or to take arms against a sea of clutter,
And by opposing… end them.

I choose to BE

So it’s time I take arms against the sea of clutter. I’m tired of the slings and arrows raining down on my parade. Not to mention, my head.

My first step is identifying. I’m starting a list and will be adding to it periodically.

I invite you to feel free to contribute your own entries to the pile.  With or without any Shakespeare.  I’m planning to eventually host a virtual bonfire with the discards so they don’t lay around and re-clutter.

In no particular order, some of the things that are cluttering my “space” are…

* paper. Any time two sheets of paper gather in my girl cave, unchaperoned?…they immediately slip away and multiply like rabbits. Receipts. Recipes. Warranties. Marriage memorandums. Etc. Kept out of worry I’ll “need it some day.”

* “I should ___________” thoughts.   These are the really ridiculous shoulds that I’m only going to be able to pull off in a perfect world, when the moon is permanently blue and we’re all enjoying ice skating on frozen-over hell.

* the whatchamacallit, gotta-give-this-to-so-and-so items, sprung from good intentions, that have found a home by my door

* “They shouldn’t be doing that” thoughts.  They are doing it; I’m only responsible for what I’m doing.

* food that I shouldn’t have bought, but now feel guilty about throwing out. Toss. Don’t buy again.

* gifts for people I didn’t really want to buy, bought anyway, and then didn’t get around to mailing

* gifts I’ve received that aren’t ’me,’ that don’t fit, or that I don’t use on a regular basis

* pine cones. bags of collected pine cones. I grew up tree-deprived and have been trying to make up for it ever since. They’re not going to turn into peanut butter and bird seed slathered bird feeders; I need to release them back into nature.

* “I’m too ___ for that” thoughts. [inserting various adjectives such as old, frumpy, unskilled, uber-responsible or "proper" ].   I. am. not.

<dusting off my hands> Well…that’s a start!

From whence comes your clutter?

Soul petrol

Returning home from my daughter’s wedding early last week,  my car nearly coasted in to the gas station on fumes. This was kind of surprising, seeing as how I’m usually a person who fills the tank when it falls below half.

The next day, however, I realized that my personal “gas tank” was as low or lower than this gauge.  I hadn’t anticipated this. I chalked it up to tiredness and figured I’d be fine the following day.

The wedding was wonderful.  My daughter made a very beautiful bride (even if I am biased), and my son in law was as handsome as they come. The venue was breathtaking…the weather was picture perfect. Even her parents’ divorce didn’t dampen the moment. With the ink on our decree less than six months old, my ex husband and I got along very well. All of his siblings came and they were respectful, even inclusive.

I had all three of my children…healthy, happy, and in one place, at one time…our family and friends all gathered together with us. The whole setting was the stuff of dreams…how blessed I was to get to see my daughter’s dreams coming true.

Everything had gone really well. And yet…afterwards… still, here I was, motivation, energy, enthusiasm… all pegged, on “empty.” The grey, the numbness was palpable.

I told myself this was normal. I called a couple friends. I sat down and tried to write out what I was feeling. I tried a funny movie. It wasn’t funny. I tried favorite music; I felt nothing. For a couple days, I indulged in my tried and true carb-laden comfort foods. None of these things worked.

In the end, instead of desperatly continuing to figure a way to fill myself up I, instead, surrendered. I emptied my tank even further, choosing to have a long cry. I can’t tell you why the tears, I just know they were necessary.

My dog gave up her preferred spot to hop up on my bed and glue herself to me, all night. If I opened my eyes, she opened hers, lifted her head slightly and stared at me until I closed them again.

In the morning, I figured I owed her a longer walk. There was a plume of smoke rising, in the distance, from a brush fire.  I sent an ‘arrow prayer’ up that it might be contained quickly. “Wow, the sky is really blue,” flitted across my mind.

Walking. Breathing in slowly…and exhaling slowly. Feeling the warm sun on my arms. Watching my dog excitedly zig zag back and forth on our walk.

There it was. I could almost hear it.   ….the switch.

The ‘little things’ started registering again. The refilling has started.

A glass act

Posted on

Believe it or not, one of the first phrases that was drilled into my son’s head when he became a Marine was “Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!”  I’m not saying there weren’t MANY other things drilled into his head in the Corps…but I am not exaggerating when I say I think that phrase would be in the top five. Without question, that training served him extremely well during his three tours in Iraq. Good son ♥ that he is, he taught his MM (Marine mom) this useful phrase, early on. It will still pop up in conversations every now and then, years later.

Water is my friend. A really, really important friend. But for all my awareness about the importance of hydration, sometimes I still abuse that friendship.  My body usually begins by gently saying, “Excuse me, water please!?”  If that goes ignored for too long, the head begins to throb and all the other body parts, both within and without, begin to dry out, gasp, and complain, each in its own individual way.

Before my divorce, in the house we lived in, I had the luxury of a water filter which (I evidently hadn’t truly appreciated) had greatly enhanced the taste and smell of tap water. In my girl cave (aka apartment), I am without that luxury. The taste and smell of the tap water isn’t horrendous, but it is just enough that I ‘notice’ it, however slightly, each and every time I grab a glass full of water.

I’m not buying bottled water. I am not only trying to be Green as possible but I’m also trying to keep my green as much as possible. And I’m not buying a pitcher filter system that has to be replaced every week. (ditto, same reasoning).

Which all amount to excuses. However, the body doesn’t do well, living on excuses (and without adequate water intake), for too too long…

So, recently, when I asked myself the question, “What is one thing you can do, right now, that will make today (and tomorrow) better?” the answer was quite simple. And actually pretty l-o-u-d (picture drill Sgt, screaming in my face) :   “HYDRATE. HYDRATE. HYDRATE!!!”

So it was time for solutions, not excuses. The answer? Restaurants do it all the time! Easy – economical. Why didn’t I do this ages ago??? I buy two lemons and a cucumber at the grocery store. At night I’ll cut either a couple of thin wedges of lemon or a couple slices of cucumber (or both) and float them in a pitcher of water.

The result? The next day, the flavored water is actually something I really enjoy drinking.  Cost? About $2 a week…and about 2 minutes of self discipline, each night.

After use, I often cut up and freeze the lemon rind pieces. I’ll throw a couple frozen lemon pieces with an ice cube or two — grind in the disposal — and the girl cave plus the disposal smells nice. :-)

Thistle not come your way again

Posted on

breathing in nature, breathing out stress

The awareness that I’ve suddenly begun to feel absolutely and totally overwhelmed has been such a frequent and unwelcomed companion for the past few years, that I sometimes don’t even question it. Whenever it arrives, it’s the gigantic elephant in the middle of my mental living room. Don’t ask!! Don’t talk about it!! Don’t even question it being there.

But I did question it this morning. I asked myself what changed between the moment when my heartrate was at a normal level…to the moment, only seconds later, when my heartrate was in the upper stratosphere. (because the elephant likes to come over and sit right on my chest)

Why did he arrive? The answer is nothing new; the environment was ripe. It’s fear concern about the future sprinkled liberally with ’OMG’ thoughts about the present circumstances staring me in the face.

I’m tired of hearing, reading…even repeating to myself, over and over, that “I have the key.”  Why, if I have the darned key, must I evidenly be keeping it safely tucked in a drawer somewhere and not using it?!?? Somehow, some way, it must be that “no pain, no gain” thing again.

Today, however, I went and got that key and started looking at it, thinking about it.

What is one thing I can do…to make today better than yesterday?

OK, self:  “What is one thing – however small – I will do, to make today better than yesterday?”

“I don’t know!”

“Yes, you do.”

<sounds of a struggle>

“Fine!!!  I’m setting a boundary around my walks with my dog.”

“What????”

It didn’t seem like much of a step, at first. But immediately after I said it, after I mentally committed to it, I began to breathe a tiny bit better for doing so.

In recent weeks I had begun to let family and friends come along on these walks. They weren’t there in person, mind you, but on my phone. It didn’t seem like a problem. But I’ve figured out that this change has been affecting my mental attitude, my patience levels.

As typical of their age and lifestyle (so I’ve been told by friends), my children often call me en route to wherever they are headed next – driving to or from work, on their way to run errands, etc.  Up to this point, I had made it a priority to pick up their calls, whenever and wherever, in order to maintain as much contact as possible.

But I realized that my walk times with my dog are unique and precious times, not only with her, but also communing with nature, with God. And they are irreplaceable. The brief moments in my day spent in this beauty and peacefulness pass by quickly, not to be recaptured. When I have my mind on an outside conversation, I am walking in nature… but I am not present.  I’m unable to absorb all the beauty around me – the sights, the sounds, the smells.

When I’m out walking and truly communing, I almost always begin to feel gratitude bubble up within me. My heartrate is in tune, my patience cup is refilled.

So I have prescribed a ”new”…a former…regimen for myself, to alleviate my symptoms of feeling overwhelmed :

(1) take two walks a day, no phone calls. be present. inhale deeply, slowly…exhale

(2) drink a glass of water upon return

(3) get your list out, choose a step, even a baby step in a positive direction… and take it

(4) lather, rinse, repeat.

P.S.  There’s a slight implication that the first picture is thistle, when it’s actually clover blossoms. But once the title came to me, it wouldn’t let go. :-)

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