Gift

Oh, blessed first Monday of 2014!  This day I DETERMINED to return to my blog after months of not making time.  Monday, despite its negative reputation, is often my favorite day.  It is the day I write (although the school year thwarted my plans in the last months of 2013 as I adjusted to three different school drop off times).  Monday sets my week in motion extending an open palm invitation.  Monday morning’s ambition-filled quiet often feels a gift to me.

Dictionary.com defines gift.
1. something given voluntarily without payment in return, as to show favor toward 
someone, honor an occasion, or make a gesture of assistance; present
2.  the act of giving
3. something bestowed or acquired without any particular effort by the recipient or 
without its being earned
4.  a special ability or capacity; natural endowment; talent

I do not have the entire day on my laurels.  As I sit to write at 8:30am I have already prepared and served breakfast, packed lunches, ferried kids to school and started a load of laundry. I do not suggest a life without work, but one in which an hour of space to sit and be still resides.  There have been times when I felt guilty for stopping my household hurry to sit and write on Monday morning.  Knowing how much exists to be done I sometimes notice an internal voice that tries to tell me I am greedy to take time.  As is often the case with an unkind voice from inside, this is a tape of ideas rooted in undervaluing oneself.  I suspect we all must be wary of that mean voice in our heads.

 

Accepting quiet space to read, nap, write, enjoy music, or meditate is nothing to beat ourselves up about.  We are created to lovingly receive the blessings that arrive into our lives and appreciate them.  Certainly we are not to hoard nor allow ourselves to take so much that our lives become out of balance, but neither should we feel guilty to receive and enjoy something bestowed upon us.  Today, I will also have a hot shower and three meals.  Instead of feeling guilty for not living in poverty or lacking in opportunities, I suggest we feel grateful for abundance.  Deeply, expressively grateful. Not superior but super appreciative in our words and deeds, hearts open and lifted in endless thankfulness.       

 

Having just celebrated holidays of giving and receiving, newly acquired things likely exist in our lives.  The way in which we embrace physical gift exchange is a learning opportunity.  Accepting a gift sometimes feels uneasy especially if you received a present and didn’t have one to offer in return.  Is it possible to simply, graciously feel thankful without guilt?  If we are the giver in the scenario can our gift be voluntarily given without expected recompense?  Can we give to and accept from ourselves and others without judgment? 

 

Accepting today gratefully as a gift is the way I want to start 2014. 

 

 

 

 

 

Habit

Monday Mornings don’t feel complete without time tapping away at my computer, screen-scribbling my thoughts in five hundred words or less.  This activity began as a tool for me to create repeatable behavior that would keep me writing on a regular basis. When longer projects are too lofty, wordsmithing finds a fun, first of the week outlet.  When time feels limited or the thought of “what to write about” is looming large I release to just one word and get started.  This blog was intended to form a habit of regular written expression.

The noun habit defined in several entries at dictionary.com.  I share the following six.
1.  an acquired behavior pattern regularly followed until it has become almost involuntary
2.  customary practice
3.  a particular practice, custom, or usage
4.  a dominant or regular disposition or tendency; prevailing character or quality
5.  addiction, especially to narcotics
6.  garb of a particular rank, profession, religious order, etc. such as a monk’s habit

I have the habit of eating breakfast.  I also have the habit of sighing audibly upon arriving in a living room littered with abandoned toys and books.  I have a habit of using food to fill empty spaces in my body that have nothing to do with my stomach or hunger.  I have the customary practice of arranging my clothing by color.  My behavior pattern includes brushing my teeth, regular trips to the library, daily vitamins and yoga. 

Humans are rightly apt to deem some behavior as a “good” or “bad” habit. Indeed habits can both benefit and harm us.  But even a noble custom, like a regular meditation practice, can become a problem if I choose to meditate during the time I have committed to pick my children up from school.  A glass of wine may be just the perfect thing to round out a meal but it can also become an addiction. 

Life is an opportunity for us to watch ourselves, to choose our habits and to let them go as we see necessary.  Habits shape our days.  Addiction and excessive aversion come to the human being so easily.  Only in wearing the habit of a self-watcher can we intentionally form and free ourselves from acquired behavior.  We can choose our customary practices and decide our actions.  We must look at ourselves with love and guide ourselves gently, starting whatever small changes we can muster in making habits that bring us joy, health, and balance. 

 

We are what we repeatedly do. 
Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit. 
                                        - Aristotle

 

Watch your thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions.
Watch your actions, they become habit.
Watch your habits, they become character.
Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.
                                        - Lao Tzu

 

 

 

 

Mug

Few things offers simple, satisfying comfort like a warm mug of __________ (fill in the blank with whatever comes to mind).   Coffee.  Soup.  Cider.  Mulled wine.  Green tea.  Chili.  This morning for me it is black coffee, decaf for the good of my nervous system and the world at large as caffeine, unless in dire fatigue circumstances, makes me unpleasant to myself and others.  Insert memories of my inside head voice saying, “stop talking, stop talking, just stop,” and my inside body voice responding, “Can’t.”  Really, caffeine in my body is ruthless, unlike the merciful mug which proffers plainly a two-palm-sized gift to ourselves each time we fill it.  On this August morning I don’t think I have ever enjoyed an ebony swig more.  I am alone in the house early on Monday for the first time since May.  I raise my mug today to toast the first day of school.

 

Mug is a noun defined at dictionary.com as a drinking cup, usually cylindrical in shape, having a handle, and often of a heavy substance, as earthenware.  Also there is a slang noun form meaning the face or the mouth.

 

Many of my mugs are from garage sales and used stuff stores.  I feel an exquisite, thrifty thrill when my mug budget of fifty cents reaps some ceramic cast off that fits my fingers just fine as I wrap them through the handle and around the body of the cup.  Never mind the plates and spoons, a unique mug makes me swoon!  Seems silly, I admit, but it is a simple joy that keeps me from sorrow at the times I inevitably drop a mug or absentmindedly smash one into the side of the sink.  The original twelve matching tea cups with saucers received as wedding gifts thusly are reduced now to four - dainty and lovely and just what a bride should choose but failing to satisfy the weighty warmth of a sturdier stein.  Indeed my tea cups have never crossed over into mug territory.  Fine for a lovely table, luncheon, or dessert tray but never hoping to hold chili with cheese nor fat, fluffy marshmallows swimming in Godiva hot chocolate.  Never.

 

Today takes its place in a long line of soggy days.  I don’t mind.  Serendipitously the term to describe today’s air is muggy!  Quiet is all the more compelling in such weather, damp from recent rain and still with anticipation of more predicted thunderous precipitation.  More captivating also is my mug.  Mine alone for the first morning in months.  Silence.  Sipping.  Sitting in space that has been a bustle and acutely active for well-lived summer’s steamy stint but now slowed just for the moment.  The day holds much and will be busy in a matter of minutes, melding from languid linguistics to droves of to-do demands.  But in deep gratitude I find myself truly loving my matchless Monday mug.

 

 

Mommy Cup

mug resting in palms

sip light after offspring leave

what now can I hold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Content

 

Recently I lived a morning in the library sipping an unexpectedly delicious smoothie brimming with a bounty of fruit, veggies, and seeds.  The room was a sacrosanct silent.  The white-light air offered a blessedly cool repose from the swelter of July outdoors.  I sat solo with my laptop surrounded by words wound in lines hunkered between hard covers standing as an attentive guard.  I was content.

At dictionary.com I find content can be
1.  an adjective meaning satisfied with what one is or has; not wanting more or anything else; mentally or emotionally satisfied with things as they are; willing to accept circumstances
2.  a noun meaning the state of feeling or being contented; satisfaction; peace of mind

I documented the moment in notes that sit on my desk today that indicate being so satisfied made me pause.  Granted, my library is magical.  It wins awards. It employs fairy godmothers of children’s literature that satisfy every topic wish.  It is a respite for writers seeking solitude like myself, city-dwelling homeless, and corporate board meeting planners alike.  We all appear to find peace of mind there, if our expressions are true.   But the library does not magically transport us away from our respective lives. 

I think I was surprised because nothing BIG was happening.  All was simple and everyday and wonderful and only planned to last an hour.  It is our natural state – peace of mind.  We arrive alive in it but then bury it in experiences.  Piling on of the past and furtive seeking of the future distract us from the one single present moment in which we can be content.  

Did I suggest our natural state is peace?  Yes.  Yes, I did. What about responsibilities and war and poverty and immorality and economic doom and deadlines and ethical governments and proper nutrition?  Is the idea of peace of mind, of being emotionally satisfied a ruse?  Right THIS moment I can only remember it as a feeling from that day because my monkey mind is swinging from thought tree to tree with this day’s duties plus the two interruptions per minute from life in my house!   

But I know moments of not wanting.  I can shut my eyes, look inward and appreciate on the inner level I have been there.  Being content is a practice, an intention, a habit. Being content does not distract from motivation or work or getting things done or improving one’s situation or allowing ourselves at times appropriate dissatisfaction.

I’ve struggled with giving myself permission to feel content. My mind wrestles with feeling that I do not deserve or am not good enough yet or that admitting contentment belittles life’s real difficulties.  Instead, we might all give ourselves consent to be content in little sacred moments that just may lead to longer ones.

When you are content to be simply yourself
and don’t compare or compete, everybody
will respect you. 
                                                - Lao Tzu 

Be content to seem what you really are. 
                                                - Marcus Aurelius

 

 

 

Work

Why should we keep our bodies and minds healthy and in balance?  So we can do our work.

 

I predict a widening of eyes at my assertion.  Reaction, perhaps, to the narrow meaning we attach to work.  Work may be finding a job, performing its requirements (happy about it or not), collecting your pay.  Work, indeed, might include this employment activity but is much more. 

Work, as a noun, is defined at dictionary.com.
1.  Exertion or effort to produce or accomplish something; labor; toil
2.  Something on which exertion or labor is expended; a task or undertaking
3.  Productive or operative activity
4.  Employment, as in some form of industry, especially as a means of earning one’s livelihood

Work’s dictionary definition says some of what I am thinking about.  It does not though touch on how we decide what our task or undertaking should be.  In yogic philosophy, meaningful work is guided by dharma.  Dharma is woven with threads of one’s own unique qualities, duty, vocation, morally upright behavior, the unique qualities of the universe.  Dharma is rooted in Truth.  One’s life purpose, of which our exertion to accomplish something is part, is ours to consider. 

Work evolves through ages and stages of life.  A baby’s work.  A monk’s work.  A parent’s work.  A housekeeper’s work.  An inventor’s work.  A chef’s work.  A doctor’s work.  A poet’s work.  An accountant’s work.  Productive activity abounds!  We might assume several roles at once.  There are tasks, sometimes seemingly menial like laundry or paperwork or budgets, we complete under the umbrella of our work that may not seem replete with deep meaning.  We might endure a so-so job as a stepping stone to something better or a means to afford different use of time otherwise.

Our dharma is active, energetic, and a source of happiness.  If we do NOTHING our Self knows.  Stillness is not necessarily doing nothing nor is constant toil always accomplishing something.  Internal stillness might look like relentless activity on the outside.  No one can say sitting still is inappropriate or that twelve hour workdays are inherently wrong either.  Every person’s work is different, theirs to determine and execute by looking inward daily. Self-study and quiet are essential to discover our work.

Work relates to our inherent value and our connectedness to one another.  Our Truth is unchanging, constant, eternal, and loving and does not modify to suit desires, aversions, prior conditioning or social pressure.  Meaningful activity helps us see our value.

I realize that higher levels of thought are easier when basic needs are met and that generally needs money.  Yet, I believe we can remember our dharma and follow it in work.  We might merely ask, “What is my work, and what tasks does it offer me today?” 

 

                                Nothing will work unless you do.
                                                                - Maya Angelou

                                Far and away the best prize that life
                                has to offer is the chance to work hard
                                at work worth doing.
                                                                - Theodore Roosevelt

 

 

 

Interdependence

My Fourth of July festivities as a kid occurred as a military musician’s daughter.  In my fond recollections they were a picnic, patriotic music and a laser show culminating with my dad directing the firing of canons for the 1812 Overture and a fireworks show.  The salty, sweat-scented memories are watermelon red, gun smoke white and uniform blue.  I was proud.  Of my dad.  Of my country. The Independence of America was imbedded with family celebration that included the community around us: friends and strangers, living and dead.  Together, all these people made my experience great.

Interdependence, a noun, is defined at dictionary.com as the quality or condition of being interdependent, or mutually reliant on each other.

The people who created the July 4^th event were connected from 1776 to present day.  In the 20^th century we sang along with the show, “I’m proud to be an American where at least I know I’m free.  And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. I’ll gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today.”  Interdependence did not historically or presently detract from freedom.  Instead, I think it enriched/enriches it.  America’s forefathers fought so that we might have a more perfect union knowing independence is not free nor easily won but intended to allow a better life for the collective citizens of the new nation they envisioned and its posterity.

Interdependence is rooted in the truth of our human connectedness, the real and ever-present certainty that we thrive when we work, celebrate, mourn and rejoice together.  This requires that each individual bring to the table the best they have to offer, whatever it may be – the more varied the better! Independence should not be greedy, lazy, hateful nor narrow-minded, but passionate, purposeful and compassionate.

This connection of self to others in no way diminishes individuals nor undermines independence.  It acknowledges that many hands make light work or a band of skilled hunters often bring back more food than a lone huntsman or a circle of quilters make a warm bed faster than someone stitching solo or educating one person benefits all they contact and a single person’s prayers can produce change.   

To say a person should never endeavor alone is too extreme, the greatness of individual generals, single inventers, stunning orators, courageous writers bears merit.  But, in order for one to rise, there must be multitudes that bear arms under direction, accept new ideas, lend their ears, collect their voices to sing and shout.  We all count.  We all matter.  We all have duty to ourselves and to each other as independent but social creatures - people in a state of beneficial interdependence.

We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness. 
                                                                                - Thich Nhat Hanh

The whole idea of compassion is based on a keen awareness
of the interdependence of all theses living beings which are all
part of one another and all involved in one another.
                                                                                - Thomas Merton

 

 

 

Flexible

Occasionally when folks discover I teach yoga they state, “I’d love to try yoga, but I am not flexible.”  I assert that my gentle yoga classes do not require flexibility and can increase it over time.  Bridled with fear of how far away they perceive their toes to be, some seem to believe being flexible is a thing one is born with or not.  

 

Flexible (adjective) is defined at dictionary.com.
1.  capable of being bent, usually without breaking; easily bent
2.  susceptive of modification or adaptation; adaptable
3.  willing or disposed to yield; pliable

I get it, really.  I myself do not possess copious in-born elasticity.  Pictures of pretzel poses performed in second skin outfits can scare us away from our bodies. My history does not include personal fitness, sports or being a dancer or gymnast.  Yoga arrived first in spiritual devotion (bhakti yoga) and knowledge seeking (jnana yoga).  Still searching, I began to practice yoga postures in a class where, over time, I connected all the stuff in my head and my heart to my body.   As a dedicated couch potato it had never dawned on me that I could find joy - yes, joy - in physical training. 

 

What a revelation! Acknowledging all bodies, just like personalities, are different and a wide range of natural available movement exists from one person to another, as embodied beings (like all humans, we have a body) moving, stretching and strengthening increases wellbeing.  I lapped this up like a cat at a saucer of cream.

 

My hamstrings and heartstrings cooperate in tandem because I tend them, coax them kindly, and deliver to them challenge and rest.  All yoga poses may not be available to every body.  So what?  While we are embodied, we are NOT merely our bodies and certainly not the bodies of others.  Being flexible is much more than arching into a backbend.  Yet, let me be clear in my expression, increasing physical flexibility helps us learn about mental flexibility in our daily living.  How important is it to be capable of being bent, without breaking, as we control our reactions to life’s circumstances or other people’s actions? How beneficial is it to our relationships to be disposed to yield in shared spaces, not as pushovers but as strong, adaptable selves?  Over time, bending toward our toes or leaning our bodies deeply right and left gives us physical manifestations of effort that can create habits we take into everyday living.

 

Being flexible feels like something we want, it’s the “over time” part that gives pause. We deceive ourselves if we wait for flexibility to preclude effort in our bodies or our minds.  We become pliable through intention to be so and we rob ourselves if we reason being flexible physically or emotionally does not require practice.  

 

 

                                                A tree that cannot bend will crack in the wind.
                                                                                                          - Lao Tzu

Be ready, be flexible, be poised to respond
when the time is right.
                                                         - Dr. Wayne W. Dyer