Mindful Monday - Noticing Beauty

I've mentioned my gratitude practice of writing five things that I'm thankful for in a journal each night. It's a simple thing to do, but over time the resulting shift in mindset has been profound. It's a way to train myself to watch for good things.

Too often we fall into the habit of doing just the opposite. It's understandable, really. We watch for what's wrong so we can fix or avoid it (or--let's face it--complain about it). There's value in doing some of that. Parents teach children to watch where they are going so they don't step into holes or walk into walls or get run over by trucks.

I'm not taking issue with watching out for dangerous stuff. It's just that, somewhere along the line, in constantly being alert to the things that might cause trouble or need attention, we push what is good and waiting to be enjoyed further and further into the background. If we aren't careful, we can lose touch with it entirely.

Mark Twain once said, "To the man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail."  We have become a society of hammer-holders, watching for things to whack.

But here's the hopeful part...

Now that fancy cell phones have become standard equipment, most of us also walk around with cameras. Of course, you can take pictures of anything with a camera, but we especially enjoy taking photos of people and things we love. And digital photography makes it easy to take and share many more of these beautiful pictures than would have been practical with film.

The fastest growing social media sites now are the ones like Instagram and Pinterest, which emphasize beautiful photos and other visuals. Twitter has recently done a major overhaul that puts far more emphasis on photos than "tweets" alone. On Facebook, engagement goes WAY up when you post a photo with your commentary, while articles without thumbnails are ignored. The same is true for blog posts. No one wants to read a blog without pictures.

There's no question that our society is becoming more visually oriented (a real challenge for the visually impaired). Wouldn't it be nice if we could become more beauty oriented, while we are at it? How might the cameras, personal recorders, and music players we carry around in our cell phones facilitate such a shift?

If listing gratitudes every night doesn't appeal to you, but paying attention to the beauty that surrounds you does, consider using that device to help you document goodness of various kinds. Snap a photo of at least one thing you like each day, no matter how small, and post it to Instagram. Or record beautiful sounds you hear. You could also use a voice recorder (or pen and paper!) to describe things that feel, smell, or taste wonderful--fresh rain, soft grass, warm sun, sweet peaches--as you experience them. 

The possibilities are endless, but the point is to find ways to be mindful of what is already good in your life, and focus more of your energy there.

I'd love to hear other ways you have found to do this. Maybe gardening, cooking, painting, or reading poetry? If you have an Instagram and/or Pinterest account you'd like to share, please include it in the comments below. (I'm lroseen on Instagram and Lenora Roseen on Pinterest.)

One way or another, let's pay attention to the beauty in our lives. 

Mindful Monday - Procrastination

Ironically, this is a blog post I intended to write last Monday, until things got a little crazy. I almost called it, "One More Thing X 1000," inspired by my all-too-predictable difficulty getting out the door in a reasonable amount of time when heading from Asheville, NC back to Atlanta, GA.

Getting ready to go is not a new challenge for me, but I do find it particularly difficult when I'm leaving town because the ramifications of forgetting about something can be even more problematic if it will be days or weeks before I return.

All I have to do to activate an entire ONE MORE THING chain reaction is announce (or even think!) that I'm almost ready to leave. It works much like those annoying spring loaded dispensers you now find in grocery stores and pharmacies that automatically advance the remaining merchandise (yogurt, cold medicine, pantyhose...) as soon as you remove the item in the front. Similarly, as soon as I do the one last thing prompted by putting my hand on the doorknob to leave, another urgent "to do" will spring up in my face.

I've been thinking about how mindfulness might be of value in dealing with this uncomfortable tendency.

The more things I fail to do on time, the more I kick myself for not acting sooner. Meanwhile, the clutter continues to pile up, and the to do list gets longer and longer. It is important to take responsibility for our actions, but if berating ourselves for shortcomings was an effective motivator, I would have stopped procrastinating a long time ago. By the time the question, "WHY DO I ALWAYS DO THIS?" is echoing inside my head, it has ceased to be a genuine inquiry.

Maybe I should ask myself the same question without the caps lock and when I'm not so pressed for time. [Note: If there is never a moment when I'm not pressed for time, that's a clue.]

A key to mindfulness is non-judgment in present moment awareness. Self-judgment is far more paralyzing than enlightening. If I can avoid the quicksand of judgment, there's a better chance I can get to the bottom of things via open and honest inquiry into what is going on.

Mindfulness Meditation is also known as Insight Meditation. I used to wonder why. Having now spent some time in this practice, I understand that mindfulness often leads to insight.

One of the lessons of mindfulness for me is how often my habitual patterns turn out to be diversions--smoke screens that obscure something else I'm avoiding. What I'm doing may be justifiable at face value, but on another level it keeps me in a state of turmoil that provides an excuse not to tackle other important things.

When we inquire without judgment, there is no need to become defensive, and once we stop defending our misery, we can start to make new choices.

Surely, the first step in initiating positive change is seeing things for what they are. In fact, the acceptance of unembellished reality is a major change in itself. Once we step out of the drama, even briefly, we can make additional changes (or mindfully choose not to) based on how things truly are, rather than on the talking points we've developed for ourselves--the narratives we design to justify our stuckness.

What if we let it be okay to be stuck for a while? What if it's just as okay not to be stuck anymore? What if I choose to act from curiosity instead of anger? What if I let go of the need to minimize or exaggerate? What if I stop apologizing or justifying and simply accept the reality of my present experience, understanding that it need not determine my future, in spite of my past?

It seems to me that staying focused on the present (or returning to it when I inevitably stray) allows optimal energy to be applied to the matter at hand and to the very next appropriate action.

Put more simply: Obsessing over our mistakes doesn't provide protection from consequences or the judgments of others. It only keeps us from clearly assessing situations and implementing effective solutions. It channels power away from creative and productive realms and toward destructive ones.

A case could be made that writing a blog post about procrastination is just another example of dwelling on a problem rather than finding solutions. And if all I do is write about procrastination? Sure. I've stopped short of meaningful progress.

I submit, however, that dwelling with a problem--sitting down with it long enough to let the chaff fall away and discover its heart and complexity and nuance--is usually better than a knee-jerk reaction. Understanding a problem is an essential first step that we foolishly try to skip. We can't--and shouldn't--ponder a problem indefinitely or understand everything there is to know before taking action, but most of us could use a little more thoughtful dwelling, and a lot less mindless reaction.

Reactions aren't typically even about solutions; they are about avoidance. We can't escape what is, but we sure try. Pain. Grief. Shame. Fear. We do whatever we can to numb those emotions, distract ourselves from them, or run away from them entirely. It doesn't work, though. More often than not, it just adds another layer of muck to be dealt with.

This has become a pretty heavy post for such a seemingly light topic, hasn't it?

Here's the thing: Sometimes not wanting to vacuum is just about not wanting to vacuum; other times it's about more than that. If you frequently find yourself putting off things that need to be done, the best way I know to find out which it is, is to sit with it.

Sit there and BE with not wanting to _____________ .
Dwell with it. Listen deeply. Find out what's going on.

You can fill in the blank above with anything from vacuuming to turning off the television to calling your mom to finding a new job to ending a dysfunctional relationship to going to AA or Al-Anon.

If you don't have much practice with mindfulness, it's nice when you can begin with the easy stuff, then start to apply that gained experience to the harder stuff. So, if you aren't in crisis? By all means, start by considering why you don't want to vacuum. Become aware of your feelings about it. But don't be surprised if, when you reach down into the "easy" stuff, you discover other stuff inside.

Mindful Monday - Refreshment

This morning, the idea came to me of mindfulness as a sort of real life auto-refresh. Admittedly, it's not the most elegant of metaphors, but I think it kinda works. If I sit at my computer and check email when the page has not been refreshed recently, I won't be acting on the best information available, so I may devote unnecessary energy to a problem which has already been resolved or miss something more important that just happened.

Now that my computer (another metaphor...) is older and the memory is often over-taxed, clicking the refresh icon isn't always enough. Sometimes, I have to restart in order to get things moving again.

I'm not saying we should be afraid to walk away from our computers or cell phones for fear we will miss something; I'm suggesting there is considerable value in finding ways to tune in to what is happening in the here-and-now and that if we want to function well, we need to refresh ourselves regularly and restart occasionally.

Last January, I set some intentions for 2014 and decided to use this blog as a weekly check-in, to track progress on my goals. My central focus for the year was (and is) mindfulness, so many of my resolutions had a mindfulness component, such as a daily meditation practice and more mindful eating and moving. My list was fairly long, and I soon discovered that I couldn't consistently tackle everything at the same time.

Now half a year beyond those winter resolutions, some still resonate while others have faded in value to me. I could double down on my original list, or I could refresh the screen and consider whether a shift in some of my January priorities may, in fact, be perfectly appropriate by June.

A subtle but important lesson which mindfulness is teaching me is that, while goals still have their place because many worthwhile endeavors take considerable time to accomplish, it's unwise to hold those goals too tightly. We learn new things. The landscape changes. Priorities shift.

If God (or any wise and trusted source) gives us clear guidance on January 1 to head down a particular path and we become so excited that we immediately vow to spend the rest of our lives plowing ahead on that course to the exclusion of all else, is that the best approach? What if we instead set out on that same path, but in a more mindful way, continuing to listen for guidance while noticing what happens as we go along and pausing for refreshment from time to time? The answer seems obvious when you spell it out that way, but not when we are immersed in all too common self-defeating habits.

I like the word refreshment and the images evoked by it: splashing in a crystal clear pool or enjoying a cool drink of clean water... perhaps a long satisfying nap or walk in nature. Even something as simple as a smile or beautiful photograph can be refreshing. I have come to regard journaling, meditation practice, devotional time, and gratitude as essential forms of refreshment for me.

Taking these steps is more than just a matter of comfort or wanting to feel pampered. When we are overdue for refreshment, we become difficult to deal with and no longer think clearly. Communication is labored; exchanges become gridlocked. Rather than opening to new possibilities, we dig in, categorically refusing to reconsider our positions in any way. We operate from fear, resentment, obligation, and judgment. It's not a healthy place to be, but sadly this posture has become commonplace, as any political or religious discourse in the public square will quickly confirm.

I'm happy to report that this past weekend was quite refreshing for me. I had some wonderful meals and got to watch fireworks with someone I love. I also spent time gazing at the mountains and did a little more meditating than usual. None of these activities made my to do list any shorter or eliminated my concerns about the future, but all have helped to renew my strength and re-align my thinking while reminding me what truly matters most in my life.

How do you refresh or completely start over when you need to? Do you have a mental list to consult of effective ways to consciously do so? Ideally, the time to formulate such a list is well before we are desperate for it. I invite your comments below.

Mindful Monday - Memory Lane

I have long been fascinated by memory and curious about how it works. When we try to recall something that doesn't spring readily to mind, what exactly is it that we are doing? And how do particular things, like an old photo or the smell of freshly mown grass, suddenly activate a host of memories I haven't thought about in years?

My brother and I recently reconnected with a childhood friend from the neighborhood we grew up in. Somehow, he came across my mother's obituary online and contacted us. Shortly thereafter, my brother decided to drive through our old neighborhood and make some photos.

Not surprisingly, much has changed in 50 years, but seeing the photographs has rekindled so many memories--a million tiny moments, a favorite sundress, the scent of Sea & Ski, making ice cream, Christmas lights, coloring Easter eggs, delivering newspapers, crab apples, hula hoops, our first color television, Ed Sullivan, cartwheels on the lawn. The parade of memories is endless.

How does all this reminiscing fit with a mindfulness practice that focuses on present moment awareness? I'm not sure. But I'm noticing how memories make me feel and what arises in me when I consider them. I'm learning (or perhaps re-learnng) some lessons about attachment and the inevitability of change. It's also interesting to consider which things seemed important at the time compared to what feels important in retrospect.

As for the rest of my weekly mindfulness check-in? Well, it hasn't been very impressive. I haven't been eating mindfully or moving/exercising much. Even my meditation practice, the one thing I've been pretty consistent about since the first of the year, has been all over the map. I haven't done much reading or writing. Mostly I've been reflecting and sitting with the reflecting.

And so, we begin again...
     Back to the mat. 
           Back to the breath.
                 Back to the present moment. 

Mindful Monday - One Year

This time last year, I was staring the unthinkable in the face: My beloved mother was about to die. Doris Joan Alderman Holloway left this world on June 18, 2013, and the year of treatment between her diagnosis and that day was perhaps the most intensive mindfulness workshop I could (n)ever have signed up for. Suddenly, it felt so important to take note of everything, savor every opportunity.

I think of mom every day, but I've known all along that what our mother would want is for us to go on with our lives and be good to one another.

Conventional wisdom holds that the first year following the loss of a loved one is the hardest, but a friend mentioned that she thought the third year after her mother died might have been the hardest yet for her, at least in some ways. I felt a surge of panic at the thought that it could get even harder, but I remind myself that if we make it through one year without mother physically with us, we can make it through another.

I do wonder sometimes if I talk about mom (or her death) too much. I told myself when I sat down to work on my blog post that I should instead write about something more cheerful and interesting to others, but mom is on my heart this week. I'll understand if some readers choose to skip this particular post.

When Bill and I were planning our wedding years ago, some of the best advice I got was not to get so caught up in the preparations and implementation that I, in essence, missed my own wedding. I was surprised by how many friends confided in me that the big day which they had dreamed about for so long was little more than a blur by the time they finally got through it. I'm not sure how familiar I was with the concept of mindfulness back then, but when I heard that, I made up my mind that I was going to be as fully present as I could for our wedding day, which I still remember as truly the most joyful of my life.

That wise counsel has served me at other key points in my life since our wedding. I've learned that setting an intention to be present really does make a difference, whether for a wedding or a funeral--in a time of great joy or of deepest sorrow. My decision to establish mindfulness as a theme for the year 2014 was, in part, an attempt to carry that intention beyond those peak and valley occasions into my day-to-day living.

Grief has its own timetable, and every experience with it is unique, but my central intent since mom's passing has been to simply be with my own grief as it occurs and notice what is happening, inside and out. I don't want to repress my grief and sorrow or push it away; nor do I want to magnify it or offer it undue power. I want to acknowledge grief respectfully and compassionately without giving it license to take over my life as weeds can overtake a garden. There are moments, however, when it's a bit like trying to walk a tightrope. It is especially tricky when the wind blows.

I recently re-visited the display at the Tallulah Falls Interpretive Center about Karl Wallenda's crossing of Tallulah Gorge, which I watched nervously on live TV as a child. In that line of work, you can't watch your feet, but it's also important not to focus too far ahead. There are no shortcuts, and there is no rushing. Once you are out there, if you want to get to the other side, you have to patiently cross one step at a time, whether the wind is blowing or not.

I've been aware of so many "firsts" as they have come along in the past year without mom--our first Christmas, dad's first wedding anniversary without his wife by his side... Then yesterday, on dad's first solo Father's Day, as I wrote the date on his card, I realized how close we were to the one-year mark. There are times when I feel almost like I'm 4 years old again, and I can't believe my beautiful mommy is gone.

Our mother can never leave us completely, of course. I believe her spirit lives on. We have enduring memories and treasured photographs to enjoy. And we have more than that: Mom's greatest legacy is everything that she taught us--and continues to teach us--in a million different ways, some of which I'm still discovering. Being mindful of those lessons allows me to stay close to my mother, year after year.

Mindful Monday - Food

I'm trying to be mindful about food this year, even though I haven't been motivated to eat particularly well--at least, not consistently. Mindful eating doesn't require that I eat or avoid certain foods or even that I limit portions. Rather, it asks me to pay careful attention to food and how it affects me.

This means not mindlessly shoving snacks in my mouth while watching television or gobbling down almost anything quickly before running out the door if I'm late. It includes stopping to notice the way food smells and feels, its look and texture. It also involves paying attention to when I'm hungry and when I'm not and whether or not I stop eating once I'm satisfied. What are my food triggers? Anxiety? Sadness? Worry?

It's amazing how much there is to notice once you get serious about eating this way. I already spend a lot of time reading labels whenever I shop for my dad's groceries because his medical conditions necessitate so many dietary restrictions, but it has slowly dawned on me that in order to eat mindfully, I have to know what it is that I'm putting in my own mouth and read more labels on the food I ingest. Since I don't have a degree in chemistry or nutrition, label reading often leads to research. Thank goodness for smart phones with internet access!

For months, I've been trying to eat mindfully, yet choosing not to moderate my diet very much. I just wasn't in the mood to do what it takes to lose excess weight. The one positive affect of my mindfulness practice thus far has been taking care that the foods I splurge on are worthy of the splurge. Mindful eating discourages a lot of junk food because when you pay close attention, most of that stuff really does look, smell, feel, and/or taste like junk.

I'm reporting on all of this in such detail today, because I think I may have reached critical mass. After months of not being in the mood to eat healthfully, something seems to be shifting. I'm not sure if it's the cumulative affect of mindful eating or more a matter of finally reaching the time of year when I have access to far more appealing fresh fruits and veggies. It probably doesn't hurt that a long series of special (splurge-worthy!) occasions is finally behind me. But, for whatever combination of reasons, I find myself in the mood to eat better.

In the past couple of weeks, I've been reading about nutrition and fitness and listening to interviews with doctors, nutritionists, and other health professionals. I'm not ready to announce any new resolutions or big weight-loss goals, but here are some things I genuinely do want to work on: eating plenty of local produce, drinking more water, shifting to a higher proportion of plant-based foods in my diet, incorporating more healthy fats (high quality olive oil, coconut oil, nuts & seeds), fewer grains and other highly processed foods, less refined sugar, and fewer chemicals/additives.

Obviously, there are more healthy food rules I could add to this list, but I want to stick with choices that I believe to be sustainable for me. As a compliment to better eating, I also want to walk more, do some yoga again, and maybe even do a little weight training.

 I'm continuing to meditate each day, and I'm still interested in reading, writing, and several other things I've talked about on other Mindful Mondays, but for right now I want to concentrate my attention on food and see where that leads.

What is your approach to eating? Do you find it easier to eat well in the summer than in winter? What helps you eat healthfully? If you have experiences to share, I'd love to hear them.

Mindful Monday - Tribute

I was very sad to learn last Wednesday that Maya Angelou had died. Although she was 86, I think I somehow expected her to live on indefinitely. I was touched by the outpouring of tributes, memories, photos, and articles about her on social media, not only that day but for several days thereafter. She clearly touched the lives of a wide array of people--including some who don't otherwise agree on much.

Ever since I read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in high school, Ms. Angelou has been an inspiration and an important teacher to me, as she has to millions. I continued to read her other books and poetry and was struck by how much life she had somehow packed into a single lifetime.

I recall watching an interview she did with Oprah Winfrey in May of last year, as my mother was dying. I knew mom would want to see the interview if she were well enough to watch it, but it had become so hard for mom to focus that I ended up watching it without her.

I enjoyed being reminded of so many wonderful Maya Angelou quotes last week. The one below has often guided me during the past year as I've struggled in mom's absence to try to deal with my dad and all his health concerns, including some memory and other cognitive challenges.

I remember the first day that it occurred to me to focus on this wisdom, after a difficult stretch with my dad. He visibly softened, and we had the best day together that we'd had in quite some time. Whenever I felt frustrated or uncertain about what to do, I would silently paraphrase Ms. Angelou's words to myself, with dad specifically in mind: "[Dad] will forget what you said, [he] will forget what you did, but [he] will never forget how you made [him] feel." As I left dad's house that evening, he seemed more content than he had in weeks. And when we said our goodbyes for the night, dad actually said to me, "You really made me feel good today."

It's quite an exercise in mindfulness to notice how your actions in the present moment are affecting those you are with. Another valuable exercise, of course, is noting your own feelings. I'm fortunate to be able to say that I always felt safe and supported in my mother's presence. I don't have her grace, but I hope I have at least learned from her how to be supportive of others.

The rest of my week doesn't seem all that worthy of a mindfulness check-in, as I have little new to report. I'm still meditating daily and trying to exercise more. I'm eating mindfully, but not all that moderately. I've made significant progress with clutter clearing, which feels good, even with so much yet do to. And I did read another book. It was non-fiction, this time (which is far more typical for me): Learning to Walk In the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. The book was every bit as good as I expected it to be. Among other things, it was a reminder that darkness isn't all bad.

In spite of considerable reflecting, I haven't done much writing recently. As we approach the first anniversary of mom's death this month, I'll probably do more journaling. Just as darkness isn't all bad, grief isn't all bad, either. It's part of living, learning, and growing.

Mindful Monday - a ramble

In the United States, the last Monday in May is a day we set aside to remember those who have sacrificed their own lives defending the freedoms of others. I have read that the commemoration was begun by former slaves honoring union soldiers who were killed in the Civil War. The holiday has since gone through several transformations, with the two World Wars broadening considerably the way we approach what we now know as Memorial Day.

It's an overwhelming thing to consider deeply the atrocities of battle and what war means for those who ultimately died serving their country as well as to their families, and indeed to our society. I am ill-equipped to provide meaningful commentary other than to simply say that it felt very much in keeping with my mindfulness practice to pause and reflect on war, courage, and sacrifice during this past weekend.

The balance of my mindfulness check in is comparatively mundane. I've continued to meditate each day, but decided to pull back to only 12-15 minutes at a time. When I increased to 20 minutes per session for a while, not only did I find it more difficult to focus but I also noticed that I was beginning to view meditation as a chore or obligation and was far less likely to do any additional mediating (such as a guided meditation) elsewhere in the day.   

More is not always better (a lesson I often have a trouble with), so I'm experimenting with the time and trying to stay out of all-or-nothing territory by remaining flexible. There's a blog I've been following in recent months by a busy young woman with a family and a business who is clearly exhausted and frustrated with her life. I cannot help but notice that in an effort to gain control of the situation, she keeps adding requirements to her various disciplines, but never seems to remove or replace any of the existing ones. The list just gets longer and longer. Not only does she feel she must meditate every day, but for long periods of time, both morning and evening. She also does yoga every day and blogs every day (no matter how exhausted she is) and writes/posts a poem every day and on and on. At the same time, her resentment mounts toward anything which may interfere with these practices.

Frankly, I've been reading her blog less, recently, because it has become too painful. Part of that pain is empathy, for I have been known to enact my own version of the same phenomenon, adding requirement after requirement to my own list without pausing to consider that what I am doing is not only unnecessary--it may even be unhealthy.  Meanwhile, my loved ones look on helplessly as I dig the hole ever deeper, bristling at any suggestion that there might be a better approach. I've noticed a similar tendency in my brother.

The particulars are different for each of us, but all involve a kind of obsessive perfectionism, which I have come to learn (thanks to the work of Brene Brown and others) is a very different thing from healthy striving for excellence. Sadly, most of us these days seem to be at least somewhat complicit in the glorification of busy. It's a very bad habit.

In my case, it's often a way to deflect attention away from something else I really do need to look at or work on. I think I'm more aware of this tendency than I used to be, which gives me a better chance to address it before it gets out of hand. Yet I still let it sneak up to me, occasionally. One of the most important questions to ask myself in those moments when I insist that I have to do something is, "Is that really true?" closely followed by, "What would happen if I did it differently or not at all?"

I don't have to give up on meditating to adjust the timing to shorter sessions of fewer per week or a different type of meditative practice. I don't have to give up on half of my New Years Resolutions just because I haven't managed to accomplish them all at once. But I do need to let go of the ridiculous notion that I can - or even should - do it all. Even more absurd is the expectation that I should be able to do it all at once.

One of the things I almost entirely gave up for a while in my misguided glorification of busy was something I dearly love: reading. So I'm happy to report that I'm 90% of the way through reading a novel!

The vast majority of the reading I've done in the past 20 years has been non-fiction. For one thing, I read very slowly (especially narratives, in which I can savor each word and turn of phrase), and I find it extremely jarring to start and stop once I'm immersed in a story. Also, I find stories highly affecting and often troubling--especially violent scenes. They can occupy my thoughts and dreams for weeks or even months afterward. So I end up avoiding them, but I also miss them.

When I do finally read good fiction, I remember how much it means to me and that I'd really like to read more. I got bogged down in The Goldfinch a couple of months ago, after hearing from friends who were troubled by the ending, and I've yet to complete it. Prior to that, I had started several other books that I didn't finish, either because it was time to take them back to the library, or I got sidetracked, or I just plain couldn't get lift-off with the book. (Gilead was one example.)

I'm currently finishing The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert and have been struck by the amount of research required for this historical novel--not only of history, but of botany and even languages. Had I not heard the author talking about the book in an interview, I doubt I would have chosen such a novel to read, but now I'm almost sad that the adventure is coming to an end.

I'm delighted to be finishing the book, though, because I was beginning to think of myself as someone who just didn't do that anymore. It's funny how quickly we are willing to categorize ourselves. By January of this year, I had come to think of myself as someone who used to read novels, used to be thin, used to meditate. I could go on and on with "used to" phrases. What an odd (and limiting) way to define oneself.

Today, I'm someone who meditates regularly and who enjoys reading and blogging. I'm still very much a work in progress, but I am finding that mindfulness practice helps me not only live more fully in the present moment but also to define my life more in terms of the present and less in terms of to do lists (the future) or used to's (the past).

Well, that was quite a ramble. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say when I started to write, and I'm not sure I ever decided, but those are some of the things I've been thinking about. How about you? Any thoughts you would like to share - perhaps on Memorial Day, commitment, reading, defining your life, or something else? I'd be interested to hear them.

Mindfulness Monday - Ordinary Blessings

Oh, the irony of forgetting to do one's MINDFULNESS check-in on the appointed day--and not for the first time, either. Oh well. Let's just say that caring for aging parents can be a challenging exercise in mindfulness.

I'm continuing to meditate and doing a little better with mindful eating and moving. There's quite a bit going on this week, and I'm behind with almost everything, so mindfulness starts to feel like a luxury I can't afford, even though I don't really believe that.

I want to stay present, but notice that I am often lost in the past or worrying about the future. Yesterday, in the shower I found myself mentally rehearsing an (anticipated) argument. I wish I could say it was the first time I've ever done that.

Still, I feel more grounded than I did before I re-committed to my meditation practice at the beginning of the year. Looking at the stats on my Insight Timer (an app with which I keep track of meditation sessions) is a great reminder of how even small steps add up, over time. I've logged about 48 hours since January 1st, only 10, 15, or 20 minutes at a time.

Taking care of my father is also a reminder not to take for granted the little things in life. Dad can no longer easily walk across the room to do even the simplest task. His dietary restrictions are so complicated that it sometimes feels like he needs a team of dietitians working for him. Gone are the days of endless variety. When your kidneys stop working and your heart and brain and digestive system have all been damaged in one way or another, even food and drink that would once have been considered healthy can be fraught with peril. The common refrain, "Drink plenty of water!" no longer applies to you, for example. Day-to-day survival is dependent on being hooked up to dialysis machines every other day, hours at a time.

Recently, I do a lot of what my grandmother would have called counting my blessings. I've never actually tried to keep count, but it would take more storage than my computer has to log them all. Too often, we don't notice these gifts until they aren't around anymore.

So many ordinary blessings quietly enhance our lives until time is up, and our gifts take new forms. What little things make your life fuller, richer? What would you especially miss if it disappeared tomorrow? Be sure to enjoy it today.

Mindful Monday - Feeling Grateful

Well, I wrote it on Monday, but I forgot to add the pictures and publish it until Tuesday...

Maybe it's because my birthday is this month or because I love beautiful flowers and the return of warm weather, or perhaps it's because as a child I knew the school year was drawing to a close by now, but for whatever combination of reasons, I've always looked forward to May. I've noticed that my mindfulness practice has helped me tune in to a few of the incredible details we city dwellers can miss this time of year if we aren't careful--especially in nature.

The Biltmore Estate azalea gardens on my birthday!

I'm also finding that mindfulness and gratitude very much go hand-in-hand. Gratitude increases mindfulness; mindfulness encourages gratitude. How can you feel grateful for something you barely notice because your mind is elsewhere? Watching for reasons to be thankful is a type of mindfulness practice. Even when I wasn't meditating regularly, I kept a gratitude journal in which I recorded about 5 things I felt grateful for each day--or most days.

Keeping a gratitude journal--something I still do--can be fun, especially if you don't give yourself too many rules to follow. I fell into that trap, initially, having started the practice during a low point in my life when I wasn't in a very positive frame of mind. I read somewhere not to repeat the same gratitude twice and to challenge yourself to increase the length of your list each week. But that proved to be the recipe for a resentment journal, which wasn't at all what I had in mind.

The point isn't to challenge yourself. (Life is already plenty challenging.) It's to cultivate the habit of watching for what is good and also to remind yourself that no matter what is going wrong, there are always things going right that you can feel good about. Over time, the shift toward focusing on the good can be life changing.

Like meditating, if you decide to start a gratitude journal, there's no need to worry about doing it wrong. The important thing is simply to do it. If 5 feels like too many things to list, start with 3 or even 1. No entry is too trivial: the feeling of a breeze, the texture of fabric, the taste of ripe fruit, the sound of rustling leaves or a cat purring. If you don't want to make your list at the end of the day, you can record things as you think of them or first thing in the morning. If there's a stretch of amazing weather, write it down every day, if you like. If you have an awesome day and want to enumerate a dozen things, go for it.

If you like to write with ink in a paper journal, that's great. If it's easier for you to use an app on your phone or tablet, that works just as well. If writing or typing is a challenge, you can record daily voice memos. If you like to take pictures, you could even keep a photo journal, full of things you feel grateful for. How wonderful to create a gratitude album you can look through when feeling low! (Come to think of it, perhaps most photo albums are gratitude albums?)

If you aren't ready to commit to any of those ideas, consider simply pausing for a couple of seconds to make a mental note any time you notice yourself smiling or feeling good.

In some forms of meditation, we are encouraged to notice when our mind wanders from our chosen point of attention (often the breath) and to consciously label our thoughts, "thinking" as we refocus. Why not similarly note and label "gratitude" when we notice something we feel grateful for?  Or mentally pause to say, "thank you" each time. Author, Anne Lamott, says that you can boil down most prayers to one of three: Help, Thanks, and Wow. I'm inclined to agree. For those of us who pray, thank you is a perfect prayer, however you choose to offer it.

As for my weekly checkin, I do indeed have much to be thankful for, having just celebrated my birthday with my beloved. I'm in the mood for spring cleaning and clearing clutter. I've been walking. I'm eating more mindfully, although I've made the conscious choice to splurge quite a bit recently. I'm meditating every day and spending more time in nature, which I find both calming and inspiring. I still want do more reading and writing and do a better job of sleeping at night, but I'm optimistic about improvements in those areas in the weeks ahead.

Mindful Monday - Delight

   

It's interesting to go from the eastern Caribbean to Atlanta, GA to Asheville, NC in the span of a week. It's almost like stepping backward through the seasons of spring and summer. St. Thomas feels like perpetual summer to me, no matter what time of year it may actually be. When we returned to Atlanta, the dogwoods were already beginning to fade, and the white azaleas in our front yard, which were about to burst forth when we left for vacation, had already started turning brown by the time we returned. Then we drove up to Asheville, where the dogwoods and azaleas were just getting started and the tulips were full tilt, and got to experience the part of spring we had missed!

So much can happen in a week--or even a couple of days. Friday, I went to the North Carolina Arboretum and was captivated by a row of white virburnum in full bloom, covered in happy yellow swallowtail butterflies. Sunday, I rushed back to the same spot, only to discover that there were almost no blossoms left and not a butterfly in sight.

You can wait all year, like a child longing for Christmas, and almost before you know it, it's time to put the decorations away. My experience of growing up was also like that: I could hardly wait to be "old enough," which lasted maybe 5 minutes before I crossed over into "too old."

All these things are reminders of the importance of paying attention. The present moment is the only one we can know for sure that we have in this life, yet it's easy to miss it by constantly dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. Surely, there is a time for reminiscing and a time for planning, but both are best done consciously.

I've been walking outside more and making an effort to pay attention to nature and the wonder of creation. As a result, I notice myself experiencing delight more often than I used to. I'm excited by the scent of newly-mown grass or wide-eyed at a glimpse of a beautiful flower that wasn't there yesterday. Delight is a delicate enough emotion that if you aren't tuned in you can miss it. But there are many opportunities to experience delight when you watch for them.

What delights you? Watching your child or grandchild? A cool drink on a hot day? Hummingbirds? The sound of laughter? Warm rain on your skin? A playful puppy?  (Cue My Favorite Things...)  Just as an experiment, watch for opportunities to be delighted this week. You may, indeed, be delighted with the results.   

Mindful Monday - A Welcome Break

How was your week? Make that two weeks. I decided to take a little break from cell phones, computers, and social media during Holy Week and didn't post a check-in last Monday. Bill and I went on a cruise in celebration of our 20th wedding anniversary, so the timing seemed right for a media fast. I meant to post my plans before Palm Sunday, but ran out of time.

We had a wonderful trip and much nicer weather than they had back home. I did my meditation each night to the sound of the ocean. During my many years as a church musician, a get-away in the week leading up to Easter would have been as out-of-the-question as a Christmas vacation, but our lives have taken some unexpected turns in recent years, offering new opportunities. This particular turn was a very happy one.

As many beautiful man-made sanctuaries as I've been priviliged to worship in, none surpasses the seaside at sunrise or sunset. And I have to say that my days of coordinating elaborate worship services and attention to the details that facilitate worship for others were not necessarily the days I felt closest to God. It was quite a gift to be able to pray and meditate during this particular holy season in a far less structured yet more intimate way than I have in some years.

St. Thomas (U.S. Virgin Islands)

How fortunate that our 20th wedding anniversary happened to fall when it did or we would never have scheduled a Holy Week Caribbean cruise. We had planned a cruise to Alaska last summer, but it was scheduled for what would turn out to be the week of my mother's funeral. We had travel insurance, which allowed us to re-schedule a different cruise when we were ready, and I'm grateful that dad was doing well enough that we were able to go this time. It proved to be one of the best vacations we've ever taken.

I did try to eat mindfully on the ship, but not at all sparingly. I made the conscious decision to splurge and to savor each bite. After driving back from Ft. Lauderdale yesterday, I wanted to mark my transition to healthier eating again, so I actually cleaned out our fridge and pantry today.  While I was at it, I cleaned out the medicine cabinet, too, as I noticed while packing for our trip that we had quite a few expired meds which needed to be tossed. So today was a good day for clutter clearing as well as mindful eating! Tomorrow, I'll stock up on fresh produce and other healthy foods.

I got in a nice long walk today and plan to add additional exercise to my routine starting tomorrow. I managed to do a fair amount of walking on the trip, as well, but Sunday we spent 11 hours in the car, so it felt good to be able to move more today, and the weather was ideal.

There are times that lend themselves to fresh starts. Spring is a good season for beginning again and new growth. Easter adds themes of resurrection, redemption, and rebirth. A 20-year wedding anniversary is obviously a milestone, as well.

And so, we begin again, even as we honor the path that brought us this far and anticipate the continuation of our journey ahead. I still do plenty of mindless things--like overpacking. But I feel more attentive than I did 4 months ago or 4 years ago. I think I'm also just a little stronger and perhaps slightly better equipped for the ups and downs that are sure to come. Learning to ride life's waves takes some practice. Paying attention also helps, so I intend to keep working on that.

Mindful Monday - Excuses, Excuses

Last Monday, I completely forgot to do my check-in. I'll try to keep this one short-and-sweet, since I wrote a rather long post yesterday, mostly about how things are going with meditation.
 
Clutter clearing is progressing more slowly than I had hoped, but the arrival of spring seems to be helping. There really is something to the idea of spring cleaning. I have also walked more since the arrival of warm weather, but my eating has gotten completely out of hand and is not likely to get better until after Easter. 

We'll celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary in the middle of Holy Week, and I'll be splurging for sure, but I do think we can ask the Easter Bunny not to make a stop at our house this year. If I don't have a handle on my eating and activity balance by the end of April, I plan to return to Weight Watchers in May (after my birthday on the 3rd, of course).  So, I'm pretty much one big bundle of excuses--and not even very good ones.

I was distressed to discover that most of my spring/summer clothes were too small. I had to do a bit of emergency thrift store shopping, since a brand new larger wardrobe wasn't in the budget. (Besides, I don't want to stay this size.) But having been fairly successful in my quest, my new attitude is that I might as well get some use out of my thrift store purchases.

My Lenten practice this year has been to spend time with nature each day, and I've found that to be meaningful, although in light of my weight gain it has occurred to me that my old standby of giving up sweets might have been more practical. Then again, practicality is not really the point of a Lenten practice.
 
I am reading more and writing a little, but I still start far more things than I finish. I feel optimistic about spring, though. I've been sleeping better and feeling more energetic and motivated, recently. And, as I said yesterday, the resolution I've been the most consistent about since the beginning of the year has been my daily meditation practice. I do feel good about that.

How about you? How is your spring shaping up?

Pleasant Surprises

About three months ago, I decided that Mindfulness would be my word for 2014, and I made a number of resolutions that I've worked at since then, with varying degrees of success. 

I also decided to use this blog as a place to check in each Monday about my progress toward personal goals and report on how things are going, in general. I've invited others to share in those periodic updates and am delighted that some of you have. I call these weekly check-ins, Mindful Mondays. (The invitation remains open, by the way, and I hope others will continue to join in!)

The resolution I've been most consistent about since January 1st is a daily mindfulness meditation practice. I resolved to meditate for at least 5 minutes a day. Most days, I now sit for at least 20 minutes once a day, and occasionally I add an additional session of a different form of meditation in another part of the day. 

I have to admit that, although meditation is a spiritual practice for me, my decision to re-establish this particular practice was as much a practical one as anything else. I noticed increasing mindlessness on my part and grew tired of misplacing my cell phone or my keys all the time while often feeling scattered and overwhelmed.

IRONY ALERT: Last Monday, I completely forgot to even write my mindfulness check-in. I remembered on Tuesday but was too busy to write. By Wednesday, I wasn't sure whether to attempt a catch up post or just skip it and move on. So much for Mindful Mondays. 

I still lose my cell phone, too. And last night, I loaded the dishwasher, then forgot to run it before I went to bed. Don't even get me started on twist-ties...

My mindfulness practice hasn't done all of the things I had hoped it might, but it does seem to be doing something more important. I may not know where my phone is, but I am pausing to notice the texture of clouds and the color of the sky. I am aware of the gentle breeze on my shoulders on first day spring day outside in a sleeveless shirt. I am more able to be present with my father, who struggles with many health issues and other aspects of aging. 

Perhaps most important of all, I believe that, as a result of daily meditation practice, I am better equipped to right myself when I am thrown off balance by life. This is no small gift.

One of the tenets of contemplative practice is that when you recognize that your mind has wandered to random thoughts (which it WILL, over and over and over again...) you gently and without judgment guide it back to the breath, or whatever point of focus you have chosen. This exercise can quickly feel pointless and even hopeless, so for me there is an element of faith in just doing it anyway, no matter how "unsuccessful" you feel.

Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn says that it doesn't matter so much what happens when you sit [in meditation], so much as that you sit... and keep sitting the next day and the next and the next. He suggests that a key to the practice is to come to the mat with no expectations--a prospect I admit that I find nearly impossible. Surely, most of us don't continue to do things on a daily basis without some expectation of benefit?

Of course, Dr. Kabat-Zinn never suggested that mindfulness has no benefits. He would not have devoted his life to the teaching of mindfulness if he didn't know it has great value. Rather, he suggests that imposing very specific expectations on the practice up front tends to limit our experience of it.

We mostly see what we are looking for. There's a famous experiment in which subjects are shown a video of people playing basketball and asked to count the number of times the team in white shirts passes the ball. Afterward, the viewers are asked about something else entirely from the film, and half never even noticed it. They were so focused on how many times the ball changed hands that they missed practically everything else that happened. (I'm being vague to avoid spoilers, in case you haven't seen the video.)

Something similar can happen with meditation. If you are meditating for a specific purpose, you may not notice when other positive things begin to occur as a result of your practice, especially if they are subtle or gradual. But, like water on rock, even subtle shifts can add up to big changes, over time. So it is helpful to approach meditation with a sense of openness and curiosity rather than heavy expectations. 

To use some of the language of my own faith tradition, sometimes the Holy Spirit offers us what we need rather than what we want. I wanted to stop losing things, but I needed to be fed by the wonder of creation. I wanted to be more focused, but I needed to become more aware and alert. I want things to happen by my schedule and within my fairly narrow comfort zone, but that's not how human beings learn and grow.

There's a big picture view that most of us simply can't see from our limited vantage point. Meditation doesn't grant magical access to that big picture, but somehow it keeps me mindful that a far broader and higher perspective exists. It also allows me to dance with possibilities that I might not have noticed before.

looking out from our recent hike on Stone Mountain

I'd still like to keep track of the twist tie after I open the bread, but if I have to choose between that elusive little piece of wire and being more present for my dad in his twilight years, that's a pretty easy choice. Right now, meditation is helping me gain perspective on my priorities. When my attention is diverted from them, as it inevitably is, it helps me redirect my focus. What a pleasant surprise from sitting still for a few minutes each day.

I highly recommend it.

Mindful Monday - Spring Cleaning

Plants of Promise Garden - North Carolina Arboretum

For my Monday check-in, I'm happy to report that, although there's snow in the forecast tonight, there have been many signs of spring this past week: lots of robins, daffodils, cherry blossoms, forsythia and other colorful flowers. I even managed to do a little spring cleaning!


Unfortunately, I've discovered that very few of my spring clothes fit. I've been walking regularly and eating more carefully for the past week, but it will take more than a few days to solve this dilemma, so mindful eating will be a priority for a while.

I've been sitting for mindfulness or insight meditation at least 20 minutes daily, sometimes adding a second guided meditation at another point in the day. My Lenten practice this year is to spend time with nature every day, and on three occasions I've been able to go to the North Carolina Arboretum to walk and meditate, which was really wonderful.

I haven't read as much as I'd like to, but I've made good use of books on CD, since I've been in the car a lot. I want to do more writing, as well. Once the warm weather stabilizes it would be nice to write outside.

Mom at Magnolia Plantation & Gardens

Flowers and gardens always remind me of mom, which is bittersweet, since this is the first spring she isn't here to enjoy with us. Last March I took her to Charleston. At the time, we hoped she would have better days ahead. Once it became clear that was not the case, one of the first things she said was that she was glad we had taken our trip.

I still think of mom every day and get teary from time to time. So many of my friends are going through this process with a parent, and I think of them often, as well. I'm trying to learn to just sit with whatever emotions come up in my meditation sessions--neither pushing them away nor clinging to them. Learning to observe emotions (and other things) without judgment is going to take more practice, but I do feel a sense of progress.

How about you? What's on your mind as spring arrives? Are there goals or practices you are working on or considering? Please feel free to check in, using the comments here.

Mindful Monday - Feeling Lucky?

My Monday Check-In for St. Patrick's Day is nothing to write home about. Walking and water drinking have been inconsistent, at best. Clutter clearing has been limited. And there were 3 nights in a row when I didn't get nearly enough sleep. I've done a little writing but not much reading. So there are no gold stars in my self-care report card for the past week.

My chosen word/focus for 2014, however, was mindfulness, and since January I have been consistent in my daily meditation practice for the first time in years. I am meditating for longer periods than I was when I started. My mind doesn't seem to wander any less, so I can't say I feel any more skilled at it. What I do notice, however, is that I am generally less reactive throughout the day. My buttons are not as easily pushed as they were three months ago.

This time last March, mom would soon enter hospice care, and I was with her almost 24/7. This year, the focus has shifted to my dad, who continues to cope with kidney failure, heart disease, diabetes and a host of other health concerns, even as he struggles with the loss of his caregiver and wife of 55 years along with the sense of control over his life.

At his own insistence, dad still lives somewhat independently, but he calls frequently and often requires assistance, occasionally on very short notice. He needs frequent reminders and reassurance and tends to ask the same questions (and tell the same stories) over and over.
 

I remind myself how lucky I am to still be able to hear his voice each day and spend time with him often. Yet, especially on days when my brother and I get repeated calls from dad, it's hard not to view them as interruptions. It's also frustrating when--in spite of all those calls--dad makes arrangements involving us without consulting us or the calendar. (As you might guess, these minor examples are only the tip of a large iceberg.)
 
While things pile up from neglect at my own house, I find myself wanting to hurry to try to get dad's needs taken care of so I can get back to my life. But, of course, caring for our father is an integral part of my life, just as providing for us was a part of his for so many years.

My mini-epiphany this past weekend was an extension of something I've learned from doing guided meditations for (physical or emotional) pain. When we try to resist pain, we only make it bigger. If we acknowledge our pain, and especially when we can hold it in non-judgmental awareness and relax a bit, it tends to recede on its own. Sometimes it dissolves entirely.

If I spend all my time and energy with my dad resisting--scrambling to get off the phone or back home as quickly as possible--it never works. He senses that I am easing toward the door or needing to hang up and will begin to flood the conversation with dozens of urgent requests. But when I can attend to the present moment with dad, even if in that moment I need to calmly re-define boundaries, the result almost always leaves both of us less anxious.

It's hard to explain the connection, but there is something about daily mindfulness or insight meditation that seems to facilitate this shift toward being more present even in difficult situations, neither resisting nor pushing--a non-anxious presence in the face of adversity.

I was reminded during an interview with Ann Rae that I watched from Jonathan Fields' Good Life Project that depression can be an indication that we are focusing too much attention on the past, just as chronic anxiety can be an indication of too much energy focused on the future. That's something I'm making an effort to notice.

So, although I'm neither Irish nor Google, and my 2014 resolution track record is thoroughly unimpressive, I'm still feeling lucky... for this time with our dad, for a loving and supportive husband, for friends familiar with this caregiving journey who uphold me with prayers and good wishes, and for the lessons of meditation, in which we have the opportunity in any moment to gently begin again by coming home come to the present moment.

I'd love to hear how you are feeling this Mindful Monday.

Mindful Monday - Springing Forward

How was the past week for you? What were your Mindful Moments? Do you have a particular focus for the coming week? What are you most looking forward to?

My week didn't unfold as I expected. Somehow, "losing" an hour due to Daylight Saving Time felt like the icing on that cake, but ultimately everything turned out fine. One happy side-effect of my meditation practice is that I am beginning to hold things a bit more loosely and, in some cases, roll with the unexpected without the level of anxiety I once had.

I'm feeling excited about the coming of spring. This has been a challenging winter for much of the country, so I suspect I'm not alone in my sense of anticipation. I've loved noticing the tiny buds on trees and seeing the Lenten roses and early daffodils blooming. I even decided several days ago to become a member of the North Carolina Arboretum.

I've done more walking recently, which is one of my health goals, and I'm in the second week of Sharon Salzberg's 28-day program on meditation from her book, Real Happiness. Week 2 introduces walking meditations, so the timing was perfect. It's nice when priorities align in such a way that you can address two or more at the same time.

The tools I talked about last Monday are still helping me. In addition to the book mentioned above, the apps I use to track how much water I drink and to time my daily meditations continue to be surprisingly motivating and make it easy to do.

In the car, I've been listening to Pema Chödrön CDs which I checked out from the library. It's a recording of a winter workshop she led at the monastery in Nova Scotia where she lives and teaches, and I'm finding it quite interesting. Also, after a couple of years of thinking about taking a free course at Coursera.org, I finally signed up for one that starts in another week. So I'm definitely associating spring with new growth of more than one kind.

I'm a little stalled with the clutter clearing, so I'm going to try to do more of that this week. I'd also like to do more writing in the next few days. Much of the writing I did this week was note-taking, which is great, but doesn't take the place of writing from the heart.

That was my week. I can't wait to hear about yours and find out what you are looking forward to.