Thursday, September 30, 2021

If You Love, Say It, Tell Them

Scrolling through my FB newsfeed, I saw this posted on a friend's page.  She included some beautiful, personalized words and both her sentiments and the pic post itself, made my heart smile.  So, posting with a h/t to Terrie, as well as to TDL Counseling, who might be the originator (as my internet sleuthing shows a version of this posted by Ty David Lerman back in July.  On his, the last sentence reads, "Make it weird...until it's not."  I love that, too).

And while it states telling one's friends, I'd like to humbly expand it to tell everyone that you love that you love them.  Let them know 🙂

Sending love💗 Cheering. You. On 💗


Friday, September 24, 2021

Morning Cuppa Musings

This is the message from my cup of tea (well, the teabag😁) When I read it, I smiled and said, “Yes.” But then I felt like adding, “May I co-create peace, tranquility and harmony with all I encounter in my day.” 🤞🏾😊 And I’ll try. And, sometimes, it might not unfold as such in my interactions out in the world— heck, or even with my interactions within. But, again, I’ll try. And work to keep gently moving towards it.

All the best with your inner and outer travels, and with inviting compassion along on the journey. Cheering. You. On.❤️



Wednesday, September 22, 2021

A New Practice

I had a moment early this morning, where I could sense myself about to board the express bus to mental (and possibly emotional, because, in my experience, they feed off each other) chaos.  I caught myself in time to decide I really needed to breathe.  So, I tried this practice I’d heard of in a recent audiobook (full disclosure, I’m going to need to listen to that section of the audiobook again and honestly, likely the whole thing.  With reading, I’m moving at my own space, with audiobooks, sometimes things go by too quickly).  

The practice involves breathing in and mentally focusing on different parts of the body, starting from the top and working one’s way down.  Again, I’m thinking I didn’t do it exactly as it was mentioned in the practice (hence planning on re-listening).  But my approach worked for me.  

What I did was, on the in breath, I focused on my brain/pictured where it was in my body, and on my out breath, I silently said, “I love you, brain.”  Then, I did the same process continuing to my eyes, nose, teeth, gums, tongue, mouth, all the way down to my feet.  On the way there, I connected to the parts of my inner landscape, committing to the breathing in and out pattern, ending with the silent thought accompanying the out breath.  By the time I was finished, I felt calmer, more present and in my body.  From this place, I was able to make a clearer decision on how I wanted to proceed.  

I’m going to commit to this, at the very least, as a morning practice before getting out of bed.  I also realize I’d like to spend some time looking at some anatomy of the body pics or get a poster as I’m not 100% certain on visualizing where certain organs on the inside are actually located😅 (Then this got me wondering if there were any beginner anatomy of the body puzzles including an inside view that would be ideal for kids, that also included a few words on what its function is? Again, for children-- as young as age 6, for example.  I'd like to find one for my nieces and nephews.)  

Sharing the practice in case it’s helpful.

PS-- the audiobook practice was also a way to take time to acknowledge and appreciate one's body and all the work different parts are always doing that we take for granted until something becomes unbalanced.

 

Monday, September 20, 2021

Hurdles

I know I’ve often looked at hurdles as an issue to overcome.  That energetic perception of it being an “issue” colors my approach (akin to “Geez. Hurdle, you shouldn’t be here.”).  I’m working on catching myself and leaning more into, “Okay, Hurdle.  While I’m not exactly elated that you’re here, I'm going to try focusing more on what can I do to work through this?”  And keep returning to this self-talk whenever I find I’ve gone back to activating the energy of, “Geez…” And, maybe, the more I put this into practice, the sooner I’ll be more likely to view the hurdles more from the perspective of, “Ok, Hurdle, I see you.  Bring it!” Maybe.  :)  

Monday, September 13, 2021

PRESENCE AND CARE ON A BUS, SEEN IN BROOKLYN

As the bus made its way to the stop, I watched the guardian and the little girl stand up.  Holding the girl’s right hand, the guardian, who had been sitting in the aisle seat, now stepped out and back, resulting in her charge being braced against her front, both of them facing towards the exit. 

 

As guardian and child stood in place, the bus jerked along, making the journey to the stop, quite rocky. But together, they stood firmly in this tableau until the bus came to a complete stop and opened its doors.


With the guardian wearing what felt like the little one’s school back pack, the girl, possibly age 5 or 6, still in the lead and still holding hands with her guardian, squeezed past the new passenger, and exited the bus.

I found myself thinking back to how the guardian had them standing and waiting by their seats, making sure they only moved when everything was in place for a smoother exit. At first glance it might seem like such a small thing but I appreciated how present she was—it felt like a decision born out of being present and born out of care. I also like to think that, subconsciously, she was teaching the young girl to practice, whenever possible, being comfortable with slowing down, with stillness, and with being secure in her balance before making a move.

This was the second time I’d noticed the pair during the bus ride and the second time I’d contemplated the idea of presence and care with them in mind. The first time was back when I’d boarded the bus and I saw the guardian smile down at the girl from behind her mask. She was turned towards the young one, looking down, her eyes full of warmth behind her glasses, giving her undivided attention. In turn, the little girl was looking up, holding her gaze and smiling back. I took the mental snapshot capturing, to my mind, a moment of presence and care in which a little girl knew that she was loved.