Spirit In Gear

Meditation in a Moment

 

What is life?  It is the flash of a firefly in the night.  It is a breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.  It is the little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.

- Crowfoot, a Leader of the Blackfoot Nation

In middle age I discover that the only place I can live my life is in the moment.  In the here and now.  Kind of a radical notion of stillness for people, like you and me, constantly on the go.

So you will understand when I tell you that my eyes did a double take when I saw a book entitled One Moment Meditation (author Martin Boroson) a few weeks ago.  My husband and I had taken Friday afternoon off to wander around downtown Hendersonville, NC, and we ended up in a cool bookstore called Zen,etc!

Two hours prior to our trip I had received word that the buyer for a home we just rehabbed and listed has backed out of the purchase contract he signed with us several days prior. I'm feeling stressed and harried from this news.  It is in this frame of mind that I step into the bookstore. 

I feel a powerful sense of synchronicity and guidance when my eyes light upon the above mentioned book.  I pick it up and glance inside for a quick scan.  I put it back down.  I wander to another pile of books.  I return to the first book.  Again, I pick it up.  And I carry it around with me as a talisman of sorts, as I look at other items of interest.  Then I purchase it.

In the book I learn the 1-minute meditation.  I've been practicing it since mid-March. During the first 30 days, it is mandatory to use a timer to do the one-minute meditation.  I purchased a battery-run electronic timer for $4.95 at Walmart.  It's small and compact, and easy to pack. 

No matter what my schedule is like, or whether I am at home or out of town, I find this practice portable and doable.  After all, you can find 1 minute in your day, I hope! (and if you cannot spare one minute, please have a loved one commit you to a hospital asap!).

The author debunks myths around meditation.  He makes the distinction between becoming peaceful, and being peaceful.  The former involves striving and adds stress.  The idea of peace always being available is intriguing, isn't it?

I've progressed to the second level in the book, and that is practicing the 1-minute meditation without a timer, which involves counting breaths.  As I continue with this practice, I will eventually learn how to experience the benefits of meditation in less than a minute.

In the meantime, I notice that, as a result of this practice, I am simply more conscious.  I notice what is around me.  I don't speed as much (either in the car, or outside of it).  When my mind races ahead, I tug it back into the here and now.  Maybe, just maybe, I will generate less stress by the way I move and respond to life.  It is an hypothesis worth testing!

If you'd like to practice the one-minute meditation, visit the author's site, where he spells  out the steps for you. 

Wouldn't it be cool if our health insurance premiums could go down if we practiced the one-minute meditation?

[Photo Credit:  Miguel Saavedra]

Wandering Attention . . . Wandering Focus

It's a week ago and I am accompanying my youngest brother to the airport to fly back to Ohio.  Since he is an inexperienced air traveler (last flew 25 years ago), I take the helm.  Big sis walks up to the kiosk to print out his boarding pass.  Too late, I realize I didn't use the kiosk that allows for baggage to be checked.

We walk up to the airline desk.  I learn that I have gone to the international check in, not the domestic.  We trot over to the domestic line and get his baggage checked. 

I'm starting to feel rather stupid.  I'm an experienced traveler who's too much in a hurry to read what's in front of her.

We move through security and locate my brother's departure gate.  We find the last seats on a busy Saturday morning and plop down til his boarding call.  I pull a magazine out of my purse and begin reading an article in my Utne Reader entitled "A Nation Distracted."

I read how our constant state of motion "makes us less and less able to see, hear, and comprehend what's relevant and permanent .  .  ."  As I continue reading, I realize I wasn't paying attention when I first walked into the airport and used the wrong kiosk, then walked up to the International check in instead of domestic.  No harm done, but it occurs to me that under a different set of circumstances not paying attention can create more serious problems.

My brother's boarding call sounds and we say goodbye.  As he boards, I call up another sibling who will be picking up our brother.  My sibling chats away with me as I make my way out of the airport into the parking garage.  Distracted by our phone conversation, I walk into the east end of the parking garage instead of the west end, where my car is located.  So far I'm striking out on my ability to focus.

I do find my car, exit the garage, and hit the uncrowded Interstate for a pleasant drive home in the sunny springlike weather.  And I am determined to finish reading the article on distraction when I return home.

I reflect on the morning at the airport and can't help but feel disconcerted to realize how easily I can pass through day to day life and miss the obvious.  My attention was fragmented with my brother, as part of me was focused on several hours ahead, instead of being fully in the present. 

From reading the article, I learn that I must manage my attention.  Meditation is the recommended practice to train the mind towards a deeper level of attentiveness.  I may not be meditating in the sit still, breathing mode, but I can, however, resolve to be more alert and observant in my immediate surroundings.  It's about noticing.

The Universe bopped me on the head last week, thankfully in a safe way.  Intuitive whispers would not have worked!  Since then I have slowed down my mental accelerator in order to be more in the present.  I notice that I listen better when sellers call me about their properties, with positive results!  I feel greater calm as well.  It pays to manage my attention.

Fast forward to this weekend . . . I find myself browsing in one of those independent bookstores filled with sensory wonders, up in a North Carolina mountain town.  Spirit taps me on the shoulder as I pick up a book entitled Seven Whispers, by Christina Baldwin.  Yep, this one's for me.  A just-in-time resource that falls into my lap because I'm paying attention.

What are the "Seven Whispers?"  Maintain peace of mind.  Move at the pace of guidance.  Practice certainty of purpose.  Surrender to surprise.  Ask for what you need and offer what you can.  Love the folks in front of you.  Return to the  world.

You'll hear more about these seven whispers in upcoming blog posts.  In the meantime I return to the first whisper, playing with the kind of breathing that invites peace of mind. 

[Photo Credit:  Jonathon Lonsdale]

Iced In

This is my 6th winter in South Carolina, and my 3rd ice storm.  As I look at the wintry landscape outside, I scratch my head (in the figurative sense) and try to reconcile the weather with the state I live in.  I'm no longer in Ohio, but it feels the same on this particular day.

Plans have been cancelled.  A national speaker we were bringing in to present a seminar over the weekend has been rescheduled.  Our trip downtown for dinner with friends has been postponed.

Yet I sense the hidden gifts that come with the icy roads.  I hear quiet!  No cars move down the street.  Everyone is hunkered down in their homes.  I sense life slowing down to a pace I don't often operate in: in the moment.  We are blessed to have our heat and power on.

I find myself in a puttering mood.  I sit on the floor in my bedroom and pull out journals from my nightstand to read about my life over the past 2 years, while a load of wash runs in the other room.  I look in the pantry and find something to bake.  I call neighbors and invite them over for an evening of wine and conversation around the fireplace.

The icy weather outside helps me chill out emotionally and mentally.  I think to myself that it would be a good thing for me to show up more often like this on non-icy days too.  Perhaps we humans could benefit from brief periods of "hibernation."  Thanks to Mother Nature, I find my natural rhythm again.

Shifting Ground

Saturday evening on my walk out with my husband, I ponder the deeper aspects of my life.  (There's something about moving side by side that makes it easier to have such conversations than when we sit across from one another.)

I wonder aloud if I'm just going through the motions of living. 

I seem to engage attentively in my day to day activities in the world "out there."  And yet I can sense that there is a lot of inner upheaval brewing.  I feel unsettled.  I feel like I'm "waiting" for something.  But what?

I could say I'm waiting til our adult daughters "land."  Will they continue to live in Chicago?  Will they marry the fellows they're currently with?  Will our younger daughter find employment soon?

I'm also waiting to see if my 83 yr old Dad passes his stress tests in order to undergo major surgery to remove a tumor.  He's fast losing weight and not doing well.  I'm not ready to think about life without my papa.

My husband (and I) are waiting to see if he still has a job this fall.  As layoffs continue, we grapple with living amongst economic uncertainty. 

Underneath it all, I'm waiting to find another "rock" of stability to show up that I can stand on.  Since I entered the decade of my 50's, loss and impermanence play a much bigger role in my life.  I can no longer pretend that earthly life goes on forever.  Loved ones pass on.  My body doesn't look like it did 20 years ago, or even 10.

As loss continues, my yearning for deeper connections increases, perhaps as a way to replace dear loved ones that have transitioned on.  That includes a desire for a deeper relationship, not only with people, but with God.

I question what I'm doing.  I wonder if I should be doing something else, something "more" with my life.  I have far more questions than answers.  I sense this shifting ground may be a permanent part of the landscape of life in middle age and beyond. 

And yet . . . what I need to remember, and what my wise friend, Deb I. shared with me today, is to stay present, and focus on experiencing joy.  Joy is the reason!

Your life is right now!  It's not later!  It's not in that time of retirement.  It's not when the lover gets here.  It's not when you've moved into the new house.  It's not when you get the better job.  Your life is right now.  It will always be right now.  You might as well decide to start enjoying your life right now, because it's not ever going to get better than right now--until it gets better right now!
- Abraham

The above quote provides good advice.  I have been duly chastened.  But not silenced.  We human beings come equipped with emotions that require acknowledgment and expression.  There is a time for me to cry in my beer.  And a time to blow my nose and move on with life.

Right now I'm ready to move on.  Until the next time when I am called to cry in my beer.

[Photo Credit:  "Miss Duckey"]

Summer is Nature Resplendent

Summer's colors are light and fresh, sandwiched in between Spring's exuberance, and Fall's burnished glory. 

Photo Credit:  Debbie Call (shot in Black Mountain, NC)

Summer is Tranquillity

Nature provides moments of tranquillity if we remain present.

Photo Credit:  Debbie Call (shot in North Carolina) 

Summer Themes in Pictures

Over the next several days I'll be creating short visual posts that reflect one of the themes of summer.  Enjoy!

Life in "Summer Speed"

I've written snippets of this post in my mind for the past 2 weeks.  Between work, and long 4-day weekends travelling recently, my words have not found their way to my blog.  My  visitor stats reflect a plummeting spiral heading downward. 

And it's all okay.  I'm on "summer speed" - that time when life changes tempo, routines relax (or get thrown out the window), we get the urge to hit the road to see new sights, and desire to visit old friends and family.

Like children when school lets out for the summer, I breathe a sigh of relief that the changing of routine brings.  Summer speed gives me permission to chill out, assume a languid air, to take a break - even from blogging.  I hope other bloggers are following suit as well.  The extra daylight beckons all of us out into nature.  Summer = freedom!

Over the 4th of July my husband and I travel 90 minutes northwest into North Carolina.  We spend the weekend at Arbor House, a B & B in a little town called Black Mountain.  One of the upsides of being empty nesters allows us the freedom and financial means to take a number of weekend excurstions to B & B's.

Arbor House sits on a lake.  The temps during our stay were Colorado-like - sunny, high 70's - low humidity.  The town is a 1/2 mile walk away.  Hiking trails abound.

During the day we hike to a waterfall.  Later in the day we visit the town, and that evening watch the whole town turn out  for the fireworks, which actually were pretty decent.

Over the next few days I'll share more images of summer and what these pictures capture for me . . . stay tuned for some fun and lightness!

 Photo Credits:  Debbie Call

Slowing Down with the Snow in SC

Snow comes to South Carolina this past Sunday afternoon.  Four to five inches pile up by bedtime - a major event down here in the South.  I have only witnessed snow 2 other times in my 5 winters down here.  The day following the snowfall, we lose cable and Internet (but thankfully not heat).

With impassable roads, schools closed, and no TV or Internet, I wonder how I am to spend my Monday.  I experience mild agitation.  I have so much to do for work!  I can't take the day off!  Heaven forbid I should stop "doing," or the world will fall apart.

While my taskmaster nags me, my body talks.  I't's tired.  Every part of me is tired - body, mind, and spirit - fallout from the past stressful week.  Rest sounds like a much needed oasis.  Can I give myself permission to simply rest?

It appears that the Universe has conspired to confine me to home, take away the online power to do my work, and even remove TV as a distraction.  I give in.  I breathe a sigh of relief and say "okay."  I steal a nap in the afternoon.  By dinnertime, I feel mellow and centered.  Still tired but it's a good kind of tired.  I feel at peace in the stillness I experienced.

Reflecting back I feel peeved at myself that it takes something drastic at times to slow down.  Too often I ignore my tired body and tired mind.  I plug ahead, not listening to the call to rest.  I stay on the treadmill of action.  Being busy is one of those unconscious driver behaviors that plagues me and most other Americans.

Yet I am learning.  While the snow has melted and the weatherman promises temps in the 70's this weekend, I cling to the lesson of the snow.    Today I consciously choose to pause in the middle of my day, to breathe, to be.  Stillness can feel good.  Like nature with her seasons, I learn to respect the rhythm between action and rest.  A little of the latter goes a long way with the former.  Snow days aren't just for kids! 

Life in High Definition

What I see and experience in life depends upon the speed at which I'm moving.  There's "future" speed, and then there's "present" speed.

Too often than I care to admit, I operate in "future" speed.  Maybe you know what I'm talking about.  When I leave the present, I splinter myself apart.  Here's how it happens:  My mind races ahead to the future, while my physical body is left behind, and my spirit hovers about, outside of my awareness.

As I am doing one task, my mind trolls ahead like a search engine, thinking of all the things I have to do beyond this task ('gotta get this done, and then gotta do that, and then . . .").  Or I jump into the future with "what if" thinking, pulling in needless worry and fears about things that may or may not happen (what if my husband loses his job . . . what if my younger daughter does not find work when she moves to Chicago this summer, what if . . .).

Meanwhile my body starts to feel less grounded.  Instead of feeling a sense of rootedness, I feel tethered by adrenaline and sensations of being rushed.  My sense of creativity and mental expansion become pinched off as my access to intuitive guidance diminishes.  Been there, done that, right?  Welcome to life in the speed lane of Western Civilization.

This past week something different happens to me.  I experience a sense of "high definition" in my life.  All around me colors stand out with greater vividness.  I notice shapes and patterns - from the clouds in the sky above, to how the ground lays below.  Instead of scanning familiar objects in the landscape, I view them with that extra edge of sharpness and clarity, like our television screen in high definition.