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.