Day #70

Have you ever tried to fit a round peg in a square hole? That’s what today felt like …

A new Brooks running shoe, with bright pink and purple colors.After a rest-day yesterday to let my legs heal, my body has been restless to run all day. I did get some new shoes, though, and that is exciting!

I forgot to email my class presentation to myself yesterday, so I was frantically trying to multitask this morning.

I had a session with a pretty uncooperative 5 year old and then went to a group session that consisted of a lot of whining because I made them think

I tore my pantyhose at work and didn’t have time to change them before I had to teach tonight.

I forgot to get my debit card back at dinner and I had to go back to get it which made me almost late for class.

You know, one of those kind of days …

Side view of man in sunglasses driving in a vehicle, wearing a plaid shirt.

But I took a few minutes at lunch to hold hands with my Love and let the sun light my face … and I stopped in awe of the sunset for several moments. I am thankful for the earth today–the way it just is when nothing else falls into place. It’s like the Mother that catches me, dust me off, and sends me on my way… a more grounded and balanced soul.

A pink and purple sunset sky.

Day #51

Today I felt like I spent a lot of time avoiding the grasp of anticipation. There are a couple of opportunities that have come up that I “think” would be ideal. But I am uncertain if I will even get the chance to make my case as the best candidate. In neither of the situations do I feel much control. But I desire them both greatly.

Isn’t it funny how we can be so convinced of the idea of something that we have not yet even known.

And so I am fighting attachment, dear readers, attachment to an idea about how I want things to be. Furthermore, that smells a whole lot like expectation and that seems to breed rigidity.

I walked after dark with my Love, hand-in-hand. He directed our walk and I gladly accepted his guidance. I felt a little lost and overwhelmed from the pull of the tide today. We walked slowly and quietly as I worked to still my inner turmoil and tornado of thoughts. I centered on his hand in mine, the sound of my feet hitting pavement, and the cold on my nose.

I became grounded in the tangible, the real, the present.

And in those moments, I was able to truly let go of all that I cannot control and just be my present self, wholly.

It felt good; it felt right.

And I became calm and flexible again.
Sure we have ideas and goals and hopes and wishes. But I will not become attached to how they will happen.

“Now they’re blue,” he says beside me.

The lights at a particular house. They change regularly and it’s always fun to see what’s going to happen next.

I like the way this guy rolls,” my Love continues.

Me too … may I always see the thrill in the lights that lead the way and may I always know the joy in the unexpected changing.

Christmas Week (Days #32-39)

Forgive my silence … it has been a very busy week of Christmas festivities. We are now 5 Christmas celebrations, 10 hours of road time, and 3 exhausted people done with it all.

All the presents under the tree are gone. All the toys rifled through. Ella, our elf, has hightailed it back to the North Pole. And the tree, whereas it used to gleam with anticipation, now seems to be glaring at me from the corner of the room. And now comes the true test of will as everything must be put away and organized for all the new to come.

The after-Christmas let down is always hard for me. Because once the warmth of holidays is over, it seems that all that is left is the cold of winter. It’s so bare and drab and yuck …

We did go for a walk on Christmas Day at my dad’s house. It sits on a very tranquil piece of land. Small pond, thick woods, and horses. The sun was out for the first time in several weeks. I felt as if it were melting the ice from my veins. The wind was crisp and made me feel so alive. It was the perfect moment to clear your head of the busy cobwebs that always seem to take up residence during long winter months. We walked the loop of the property and lingered with the horses.Man in a black hat sunglasses touching the nose of a red horse with a white fence and white barn in the background.

They were beautiful and affectionate and so “grounding” for me. In the insanity of gifts, activities, family, and food, it was the quiet moment I needed with the universe. To remember I was just a part of a sum, to feel connected to the energy all around, to embrace love for love’s sake.

It was my moment in the sun.

And now, as the winter blues threaten to overshadow my days and disrupt my nights, I hold that moment sacred–as a shield to sullen thoughts and plastic feelings. And I remind myself that every season teaches, and then it passes, and it’s my own thinking on it all that causes me to swim or drown. I am learning to choose to embrace this ebb and flow of life.

I am hoping to swim…

A woman kissing a horse on the nose on a sunny winter day, with a white fence trailing off into the distance.

Day #1

puppies in truck

As we walked with leashes in hand and dogs excitedly sniffing each new trail, I thought about present living. It seems to be everywhere right now for me. I’m reading a book about mindfulness in play therapy. I’ve had friends post about it on their Facebook pages. I keep running across quotes on Pinterest. Articles keep finding there way to me. I was at a conference this week where intentional living was the key note address.

This is a topic that enthralls me because I am by nature a doer. I love the experience, live for the next adventure, and enjoy trying anything new at least once. I’m one of the rare birds who actually enjoys change. I get bored easily and find it difficult to sit still. But in all that living, I often forget to weigh down those moments with my own presence. My brain is often on to the next thing before this experience is completed.

So, as I walked today, I tried to just “be.”

Instead of letting my mind organize the rest of the day or obsess over my 10-year-plan, I looked around and allowed my senses to do my thinking for me. It is late November, so the backdrop of all the world seems brown: dead trees, dead leaves on the ground, mud everywhere due to recent rain. The sky was overcast and the gray hung like a blanket tucking in all the brown. But it’s funny when you look … you notice. The shock of white mushrooms, the delicate purple berries, and the dancing green bushes in the breeze. The weather was mild and humid with just enough breeze to kiss the skin with coolness. The birds singing, my puppies panting, my sweet husband’s voice. All brought peace and joy to my heart.

The earth was grounding under my feet, the pressure of my husband’s hand holding mine was intimate and complete. And when I let my senses do the “thinking,” I let go and, for a while, truly lived.

In the past few past few years of my adult life, I have unlearned so much (another story for another day). At this point, about all I know for certain is that I’ll die one day. I’m not afraid of dying; I’ve made peace with it being inescapable; however, I want to live. Truly live. Every day.

So my challenge to myself is to walk every day for the next 365 days with the intent to be present. My hope is that quiet time with body moving surrounded by nature will produce insightful thoughts that lead to intentional living.

I suppose I will write these down … let’s see gentle reader, where life takes us ….