Joy in the New Year

My new column for Women's LifeStyle Magazine, January 2012 issue, is now in print. Unless you live in select cities around the U.S, you may not have access to it. It is available online and I'm sharing it with you today in this sacred space.

May all forms of joy—from subtle pleasures to all out bliss—be yours in 2012!


Joy in the New Year

You have to sniff out joy.

Keep your nose to the joy trail.
~Buffy Saint-Marie

I've been sniffing around a lot these days. Looking deeply, really taking note of things. It’s a new day, a new year, and I love the notion of living it with more joy.

But where is joy to be found, really? And how do you experience more of it? For many of us, joy seems to be elusive—a fleeting gust of extraordinary happiness that blows in when we least expect it. I love the idea of joy but, truthfully, I never really felt like a joyful person. Happy? Yes. Jumping for joy? No.

For me, a large part of this unfolding journey into joy has been about redefining the notion itself. I sensed when it began that I was holding onto a self-limiting definition of the concept, as in "exuberance" or "elation." And, truly, I didn't often feel that way unless something in my outside world gave me a reason to be wildly enthusiastic. Therefore, I felt I must be lacking in joy.

But now I know different. Joy wasn’t lost. In fact, I realized it was right here all the time. Joy, like any other “virtue of the spirit” lies within us—just like peace, love, or courage—and it can be cultivated. We simply need to stop searching for it outside of ourselves and let it bubble up from within.

Does 2012 seem like a year you’d like to experience more joy too? How about we sniff out joy together and begin our new year with its scent permeating our days. We can begin by taking three joy-enhancing steps:

Find Words for Joy

Being a woman of the pen, I know the tremendous power specific words have upon me. Just a slight shift of perspective and a new vocabulary enabled me to begin to embrace the joy that was already here. My wise friend, Ingrid Goff-Maidoff, author of The Joy Book, gave me permission to define joy for myself. She suggested words like: gladness, pleasure, or an inner smile. She offered phrases such as: a passionate awareness of the very act and art of living; sacred happiness; an abiding sense of love and belonging. Just thinking about these words and phrases brought a feeling of joy to my heart.

Today, my joy word is “contentment.” Now, that’s not a jumping-for-joy sort of phrase, but it works for me. Saying it, thinking it, feels very joyful in my mind, body, and heart. Contentment.

What words or phrases would you use for joy? Take time to identify your personal favorites. Let them guide you so that when you need an infusion, joy will be just a thought away.

Grant Yourself Permission to Perceive Joy

Sometimes the process of allowing ourselves to fully experience joy takes time. We have to give ourselves permission to perceive it, to see life through new lenses—with wonder and delight, with acceptance and gratitude. With joy!

If we slow down, stop, and take a good look around us, evidence of joy is here. When I stop and see—really see with the eyes of my heart—this is what I notice. A loving spouse, the beauty of nature, the smiles and laughter of my children, good food on the table, a cozy warm home, good health, work that satisfies, and so much more. Author Sarah Ban Breathnach might call these “simple abundances,” and they are. For me, the simple pleasures of life are valuable treasures and they bring feelings of not only gratitude, but joy.

How about you? When you see with the eyes of your heart, what and who is there that naturally, effortlessly, causes feelings of gratitude and joy to fill you up? Make a joy list so when you are feeling a bit down-in-the mouth you can refer to it and remember your bliss.

Seal In Your Joy for Posterity

For the past six years, I have been crafting a special kind of journal, though I hesitate calling it a journal. It’s more like a journal/scrapbook. One of my more recent collections is a “Joy Book.” It’s great fun and, of course, I feel quite joyful when I am creating its pages.

Ingrid Goff-Maidoff describes a Joy Book like this:

"This is a place to collect favorite writing, inspirations, aspirations, and collages of beautiful pictures. Here you may call forth the riches, express your gratitude and your heart's affections. Have you had a joyful insight? Write it down. Keep your own list of luminous things—things that bring you Joy.”

Would you join me in creating a joy book for yourself? Returning to it will refresh, uplift and inspire you to live with ever more joy. And what a treasure for your children or grandchildren to look at when they are gone! They will remember you with joy.

Joy is ours for the taking—one breath, one glance, one pleasure-filled choice at a time. May it be so for you in the new year.

~~~~~

 "What To Do When You're Feeling Blue:
30 Days of Insights and Practices to Change the "Hue" of Your Life"

Begin anytime, a self-paced class, delivered daily, guaranteed to help you rise above melancholy and embrace gladness—no matter what is happening in your life! 

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Right Where You Are

 Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life.

Right Where You Are

My desk is my couch and I am very grateful for it.

Each time I sit down to “work,” computer on my lap, I can look out a large picture window to see our beautiful Bay. This is my home office. Couch, laptop, water. Surely, I am blessed.

At first I used to complain that I did not have a “real office.” Actually, I have had one in four different locations in my house, but none of them worked out. Like Goldilocks’ search for the perfect bed in the home of the Three Bears, none of them was quite right.

One was too cold. (Too many windows and cold air vents).

One was too dark. (Not enough windows for natural light to shine through.)

One was too comfy. (It had a bed in it and I was too tempted to lay down during the day.)

One was too cramped. (Sharing it with my husband.)

So my desk today is my couch and coffee table. My files and book shelves are in another part of the house. That’s alright. I can get up, walk, get some exercise to retrieve what I need.

What I do need more than anything—and I’ve given it to myself by placing myself here—is beauty. I cannot live without it nor can I write without the inspiration it provides.

I had a major awareness about this the other day. Most of the time, I feel very relaxed when I work. The work itself is not always relaxing. Sometimes it causes pressure or duress. But, in general, I don’t “feel” that.

I realized that every few minutes I look up and out—out over the blue green water that moves so gently and consistently right in front of this house. Meditation in motion. This scene, this water, provides organic ease, an invitation to flow with everything as it is.

No wonder I unconsciously placed myself here. No wonder my body/mind wasn’t comfortable anywhere else. It longed for simplicity and natural connection. Thank goodness I somehow listened to my wise self and gave her what she wanted and needed to be pleased ... easily satisfied ...

In gratitude, I bow.

What do you need today to be well and at ease in your life? Can you give it to yourself? What prevents you or holds you back?

Just a little invitation from me to you to take note of where you are. Right now.

Look around. Listen to your wise self. S(he) knows what you need on the subtlest of levels to be happy right where you are. Indeed, exactly where you are ...

She's inviting you to Contentment. 

 “Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm depend on simplicity.”

~ Plato

The Case for Peaceful Pauses

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life.

The Case for Peaceful Pauses

Many of us move through our days like women on a mission to get our life handled. To get everything that needs to be done checked off the list—mission accomplished. It feels good to get everything done.

It can also feel exhausting. National statistics bear this out. When a cross-section of American women were polled, nearly 70% of them said they were exhausted.

The sad thing is, we know this. We know that we are tired. We know that when we push through to get everything in our daily lives handled, we end up beat up—body, mind, and spirit. We also know better, but what in the world can we do about it short of quitting our lives and walking away to live in another one that is much more ease-filled. Not an option, is it?

But this is.

For many years now I have found that taking "Peaceful Pauses" throughout my day works wonders to keep me feeling balanced and sane—instead of overworked and exhausted. Peaceful Pauses foster Contentment.

A Peaceful Pause is a conscious "time out." A "Permission Granted!" if you will, gentle orders issued by our wise self who knows its time to rest and restore ourself.

A Peaceful Pause can be a time of inner quiet. It can be found by sitting down or walking. Indoors or out. Anywhere we are we can stop and pause and go within to experience calm.

And sometimes when that's difficult to do—to find that peaceful oasis within, especially if we've been moving so quickly, hacking away at our To-Do List—it takes time for us to settle down. And sometimes we need a little help settling down, a guiding voice to help us get to that place of peace.

I enjoy writing and recording Peaceful Pauses. There were twelve of them in my book, Your Truest Self, one in support of each Transformational Truth. But they were written, so you had to read them through a few times and then talk yourself through the process. Not always the best solution for deep relaxation.

On occasion I have recorded them and here is one that I would like to share with you. It might help you if your mind is feeling especially busy and it needs a good clearing out. :-)


If anything, it will give you a well-deserved break so that you can remember who you really are: a human be-ing deserving of pacing, rest and care—not a human do-ing.

I hope you enjoy it and use it often to help you come back to your sacred center where peace and joy can be yours.

http://www.awakenedliving.com/podcasts/PeacefulPause.mp3

Feel free to download the recording to your desktop of mp3 player for regular use.

May peace of mind be yours today ... Contentment too.

~~~~~

"Thoughts are energy.

And you can make your world or break your world by your thinking."

~ Susan L. Taylor

Decorate Your Soul

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life.

Decorate Your Soul

"Plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone

to bring you flowers."

 ~ Veronica Shoffstall*

I've carried this thought within me for many years now and have found it to be true ...

I remember a time—the stuff of which many relationships were made—that I'd wait for others to do nice things, romantic things, supportive things for me.

I'd wait. And wait. And then, when nothing showed up, when no efforts were made, I'd hold a grudge or ruminate on how disappointed I was that this person didn't give me what I felt I needed.

Hmpfh ...

When I lost my health, I had to learn how to give myself what I needed. This was difficult at first because, very honestly, as women, we give so much of ourselves to everyone. And when we are sick, or down and out, it's really nice to sit back and hope others will take as good care of us as we would them.

This doesn't always happen. Perhaps you have firsthand knowledge of this.

So, in time, I learned about self-love practices. Self-love allowed me to give myself the care and attention I needed in the moment ... to not wait (grudgingly) for someone else to give me what I hoped could make me feel better.

Like flowers. Or a nice home-cooked meal. Or help with the housework or child-care. Or a hug. I had to learn to give those to myself.

Peter McWilliams, author of Love 101 (quoting Oscar Wilde), describes it this way: "To love yourself is the beginning of a lifelong romance."

To love ourselves with ardor and passion and devotion is not a selfish thing, but a self-aware thing. It is fortifying and affirming to lavish ourselves with the love we pour onto others. It is healing. And it can be very romantic too ...


I've discovered that self-love is the key to living a life of Contentment. If we like who we are and can give ourselves the same kind of care and attention we'd give others (without resentment), we can be happy. We serve as friend and lover to ourselves.

And when we do we become whole unto ourselves. Holy. Healed.

It takes time to engage with our self in this way, to grow into self-love, but it is possible, one self-nurturing choice at a time.

Today, consider decorating your own soul. Do it with generosity and leave the guilt behind. Do it with an open heart and receive it with one too.

Then savor the experience. An experience of self-love will be yours.

Today I celebrate that I find myself in this sacrosanct place (well, most of the time anyway). And because I do not hold onto shoulds or expectations about what others can do to make me happy, surprises come. Delightful expressions of love from your dear ones that you don't expect.

Like a bouquet of deep yellow roses. "Gold Strike" is their given name and my husband brought them home to me last night.

I think I've stuck gold, don't you? The flowers and the man? The path?

If no one brings you roses today, buy yourself some. Decorate your soul. Contentment can be yours.

~~~~~

*Here is Veronica Shoffstalls' poem, "After a While," the inspiration for this post, in its entirety:

 

 After a while you learn

the subtle difference between

holding a hand and chaining a soul

and you learn

that love doesn't mean leaning

and company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn

that kisses aren't contracts

and presents aren't promises

and you begin to accept your defeats

with your head up and your eyes ahead

with the grace of woman,

not the grief of a child

and you learn

to build all your roads on today

because tomorrow's ground is

too uncertain for plans

and futures have a way of falling down

in mid-flight.

After a while you learn

that even sunshine burns

if you get too much

so you plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone

to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure

you really are strong

you really do have worth

and you learn

and you learn

with every goodbye, you learn.

©1971 Veronica A. Shoffstall

~~~~

If you find that you get stuck in disappointment around the actions of others, consider joining me for my next tele-class, "The Spiritual Invitation of Disappointment"

Wednesday, Dec. 7: 7:00 - 8:30 p.m. EDT

Learn more and register here.

ChChChChanges

 Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life.

 ChChChChanges

I’ve been savoring the days, basking in the autumn glow of a lingering autumn. It’s been wonderfully warm here—yesterday nearly 60 degrees, relatively unheard of in the Great North in November.

A quick survey of how the garden was fairing on these temperate days brought a few surprises:

Daisies that seem to want to green themselves again.

A rebirth of the chives.

Rosemary that continues to flourish.

We cut everything else back last weekend when it was an uncommon 70 degrees. Goodbye to the blooms that brought so much joy this summer. Especially the butterfly bushed which soared to 8 feet tall and served as a welcoming home to hummingbirds and monarchs.

Now all that remains are the mums. Oh, but they were glorious! Their yellow heads glowed in the moonlight they were so brilliant ...

And now they’ve lost their luster. Drooping, faded, heavy with the task of dying off.

At first I felt a tad sad. It is hard for me to say goodbye to this glow of color that warms my heart all summer. I delight in every new blossom. I set an intention to do so because each life span is so short. We have a little more than three months of summer here. Flowers in June, July, or August—then gone.

This garden, more than anything, serves as a spiritual metaphor for life. It reminds me again and again to live well with nature’s rhythms. To flow with the seasons and not wish things were different.

To bemoan the timely call of winter is ridiculous. I know this. Everything ages and dies. Everything begins again, grows, thrives. And the cycle continues. Yes, I know this truth in my heart, as well as I know my own name, but sometimes it's hard to live  it.

Today these melancholy looking mums are only a projection of my viewpoint. They’re not sad to leave—I’m certain they’re not.

They're simply doing what mums do in the Fall. They bow with grace and dignity and let go, honoring an ancient rhythm to experience whatever comes next. 

Might I do the same.

May we all ...

And, while I’m doing all this bowing, I intend to give thanks for their presence in my world, however short ... offering gratitude for how they colored my world, creating a panorama of Contentment.

If you don't like something, change it. 

If you can't change it, change your attitude.  

~ Maya Angelou

Letting Enjoyment In

 Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life.

Letting Enjoyment In

When you think of the word "enjoyment" what comes to mind?

To enjoy something do you go out and find it, locate something to enjoy?

Do you create situations that are enjoyable—literally bringing happiness and delight into your day?

I know that I often do and, in that, I am making a conscious effort to construct enjoyment.

That's a good thing, I think. Healthy. Wise. Pleasurable.

And then there is another way to experience enjoyment, at least according to David Spangler. David is one of my favorite writers and visionary thinkers. He worked with the Caddys and the Findhorn Community for many years. He's also the man behind one of my most cherished books, Blessing: The Art and the Practice.

David writes a wonderful newsletter and his most recent essay invited this discussion on enjoyment. (You can read it in its entirety here.)

He wrote: "Normally when we think of enjoyment, we think of something “out there” doing something that brings us pleasure.  The “vector” of joy that we normally think of when we use the word enjoy is from the environment to us.  We are the recipients of joy and pleasure when we enjoy something.  Joy moves from “out there” to “in here,” within us.

But if I think of enjoy as allowing joy to enter, then the vector changes.  It moves in a different direction, from me to the environment through a portal that I create.  To enjoy is to increase the presence of joy in a given situation or location."

Allowing joy to enter ... I like that very much. To be open and receptive to the joy that is already here, ever-present—sitting, waiting for us allow it in.

And so the question begs to be answered. What prevents us from oh, so simply and effortlessly allowing the joy in? To let it come to us, enter us, and flow through us like a river of respite?

Seriously. What stops the flow?

I imagine it is our busyness—over busyness. Moving so quickly through our days that we miss the glimmers of joy that sparkle and shine so brightly but we just don't see them.

Or, it's is the noise of our lives. The radio, television, computer, traffic, human chatter on internet and cell phones, Twittering, texting. Our nose is pointed elsewhere and our ears are tuned in to a different channel.

Or, we are stuck in thinking that we must seek out whatever it is we need to be happy? Like beagles on a hunt, we lift our nose to the air, sniff out our target and go for it, running pell-mell as fast as we can to get it accomplished (yes, even to get enjoyment handled), so we can check it off our To-Do list.

A phenomenon expressed so well by author, Adair Lara, "I don't spend a meditative moment really tasting the blackberry jam or gazing at the faces of my sleeping children or stepping out to the porch to feel the rain on my face... Or, if I do, I do it quickly, checking it off the list: Gazed at sleeping children. Lifted face to rain. Note to self: Smell roses tomorrow."*

I don't know about you, but I have been guilty of this myself, certain that the roses on the bushes in my yard will be just as fragrant tomorrow. Sometimes they are. Sometimes they're not. Sometimes they're gone ... right along with the present moment. I could have opened myself to indulge in their sweetness but I didn't.

What do you think the reason could be for damming the flow of your natural enjoyment?

Today, I'm leaning into what David Spangler suggests because we can't always seek out joy. Sometimes we must simply settle down inside of ourselves enough to allow it in.

And it will enter us if we prepare the space. Move a little slower. Look a little more closely. Listen to the whispers. Be here now.

The portal is open. Let's welcome joy in ...

In practicing enjoyment in this way, I’m actually harkening back to the original meaning of the word enjoy.  It’s from a fourteenth century English word, enjoyen, which meant “to make joyful.”  And this in turn derived from an older French verb, enjoier, no doubt brought to England by William the Conqueror, which meant “to give joy to.”

~David Spangler

*Source: Slowing Down in a Speeded Up World by Adair Lara (Conari Press, 1994)

When Ego Goblins Call, What's a Body to DO?

(This is an older blog post from 2008, but I thought you might enjoy reading it this Halloween too!

When Ego Goblins Come to Call, 
What's A Body to Do?


I awoke to the most amazing fall morning in northern Michigan. It's the last day of October—Halloween— and so often this day has been characterized by biting winds, rain, and scores of soppy, shivering Trick-or-Treaters. This morning it was in the high 50's, glorious sunshine, with temps predicted to go as high as 70 degrees! The swans are parading in front of my house on the Bay, the Canadian Geese are swimming in formation, and the finches, chickadees, and two pesky chipmunks are nibbling at feeders in the backyard. It feels like a fairy tale sort of day when I look out my windows, and I am certain that the inner peace I am feeling now will prevail throughout the day.

Until I go to my computer that is. Then the "real world" seems to cascade in. It threatens to blow me off course and take me into murky waters—stress, worry, too much to do, deadlines to make, and the like. I't's been suggested by my publisher to create another blog on amazon.com to help promote Your Truest Self, and I gladly comply. Until, that is, all those technological goblins hit and I am seconds away from being a teary  mess. I am not a techno sort of gal. I'd rather be watching swans any day. But duties call, and what that means to me is diving into a computer world with which I am somewhat inept and uncomfortable. (I may have been the last person on the planet to sign up for e-mail, no kidding!)

But I want to hold on to my sense of peace this morning. I really do. So I open up my inner peace toolbox and see what's there. Here's what I found:

1. I can observe what's happening to me. I can feel my peace slipping away—literally.
   This is good!

2. I can say "No, thank you," and decide in that moment to reorient myself.  
   Yep, did that!

3. I can choose an activity (even for a few moments) that will enable me to shift my energy—from tear-filled frustration to calm.  
   Ok, move away from my desk, go into the kitchen, refill my coffee cup, make some peanut butter toast, and check back in with the Bay. No swans this time, but a large gaggle of geese.  Nice!

4. I can choose to re-engage the activity with a new intention to get the job done with minimal frustration and maximum calm. 
   I take some deep breaths, go slowly, and relax. 

5. Accessing calm brings greater clarity. Clarity brings wisdom.  
   Feeling more clear, I get an inkling that I might be using the wrong e-mail address and password. Amazing! All the pages work now. I am in. Hallelujah!

This is a process any of us can engage in. I truly believe that. As long as our heartfelt intention is to remain peaceful throughout our day, no matter what comes—no matter how frustrating, nasty, or ghoulish the news or situation, I believe we can choose how to respond. It just takes practice. It begins with learning how to notice (become acutely aware of the thoughts and feelings that rise up from within us), and redirect our thoughts. Then make a new choice.

I can choose peace for myself. You can too. It's not that hard. Practice peace and you will experience more and more peace. Practice peace and, in time, you will be peace. 

Remember, engaging in life in a new way, breaking old habituated ways of acting, and incorporating healthy new ones, takes time. Researchers say it takes 3 weeks to create a new habit. 90 days for it to stick. Even longer to become part of your lifestyle. 

Believe you me, inner peace is a choice. One we make again and again for ourselves—especially when life threatens to overwhelm, sabotage, or defeat us. We make or break our own peace. This is empowerment. This is living as our truest self. 

Inner peace is mine, one choice at a time.

Inner peace is mine, one step at a time.

Inner peace is mine, one breath at a time. 

I'm off in a short while to enjoy Halloween with my 7-year-old granddaughter. I'll carry my newfound peace with me as I go. And no goblins or spooks—even ego based ones, will knock me off of my peaceful pedestal. Care to join me? 

Sending warm October breezes of inner peace your way ...

All Love,

Jan

~~~~~

Want a great resource for accessing inner peace when ego-goblins come to call? Check out Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh. It's a life-saver! Saved mine in 1994 when illness struck. But that's another post. ;-)

©Janice Lynne Lundy, 2008

Delighting in Life

Delighting in Life

Sometimes it’s difficult to give ourselves permission to take delight in life.

Taking delight ... I love the concept.

Why?

Because it implies that we can consciously choose and grab hold of experiences of delight. Reach out, draw them in, experience them to the fullest, and savor them with joy.

The key is taking them ...

So often in the busyness of our days, moments of potential delight can whiz right by us (or perhaps it is we who bypass them). We’re hurrying, unfocused, so the bird song, the aroma of lilacs in the air, the morning dew glistening on the grass go unnoticed.

Our “taking” in this sense is slowing down enough to notice, to breathe and absorb the natural delight that is ever around us.

Taking delight can also occur when we intentionally set it up and give ourselves over to the experience.

My daughter and I engaged in a full day of delighting in life this past weekend. I went to visit her at her college town. We set the intention to enjoy every moment together and sniff out delight wherever we could find it.

Eating, shopping, walking, more eating. There seemed to be a lot eating! Though we are both pretty health conscious so we did try to choose wisely: Organic Mexican one night, tofu rice bowl for lunch, Whole Foods salad for dinner. (Oops! Here she is munching on a burger...)

And then there were the cupcakes. As we laid out our plans for the day she informed me that there was a cupcake store we should visit. An obvious source of delight, yes?

Our experience there was decadent, delicious, delectable—plenty of "D" words came to mind as we enjoyed our cupcakes. Really savored them. 

Without guilt or negative self-talk or after-consumption angst.

I loved every bite of that cupcake. She did too.

And because we did so without all of the typical feminine thoughts of “I shouldn’t” or “I shouldn’t have,” our experience was memorable. And fun. Oh so much fun!

When was the last time you took absolute delight in life and savored every morsel?

If it’s been awhile, or nothing comes to recent memory, open up your Yellow Pages (or do a Google search) to see if there’s a cupcake store near you.

You have our permission to enjoy every bite. 

 "New day -

Ten thousand reasons to rejoice."

~Ingrid Goff-Maidoff

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life.

If You've Got a Case of Monday Morning Blues

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life. You can learn more about the program here. 

Weakness or Wisdom? 

“Some mornings are tougher than others,” I said to my husband in reply to his early morning question, “What’s wrong?”

It was a gloomy morning. Dark, windy, rainy. The third such morning in a row. No evident sunrise. Just plenty of dark clouds on the horizon.

I am a sunshine-driven gal so when we have multiple mornings of very little light I can get a bit “down.” It takes me a while to get “up” so I can proceed with my day. It may also take some spiritual tools and I am very glad I have them.

We all have days like this, don’t we? When rising and greeting the day feels heavy or like a chore? It takes some umph to get going and pointed in the direction of our best selves. This certainly doesn’t mean we are “bad” people or not as spiritual as we could be. We are human—human beings having very normal feelings—and it can take some time to get back into the groove of living through our true identity.

Which is light and love and joy and gratitude—“the virtues of the Spirit," as I call them—and they can appear seriously dim when the ego is present.

That’s all it is, you know, this downhearted stuff: the voice of our human self, the ego, speaking louder than the voice of our true self. At least this is how I perceive it ...

I received a letter from a reader the other day attesting to this very thing. She expressed how difficult it was for her to “naturally” find the light in any given moment. That she had to consciously bend herself in that direction and, if she didn’t, the sadness she was feeling (a great deal of loss in her life recently) would break her wide open.

Good, I thought to myself. You know what to do. Point yourself toward the light. Push yourself if you have to. I certainly understand what she’s feeling. I have been there too. We all have.

But, why would we feel abnormal because this is how our mind works? This is what it means to be a human being. This is what I would say to her ...

This is how we respond to hard times, gloomy mornings, challenging news, until we have “rewired” ourselves; know ourselves inside and out and can respond immediately to ego-based feelings with a spiritual tool like breath or self-compassion. Until then we will likely lay down in the lap of the ego once again and stay stuck in sadness or despair.

And this is also why it is so very important for us to have spiritual tools—mindsets and practices—easily within our reach. As close as our breath. Or a yoga mat in the corner. Or an uplifting book on the coffee table.

We reach out and grab a hold of what works. Using a spiritual tool when we are feeling bad is not an act of weakness. It is an act of wisdom.

We can notice the sadness, recognize it for what it is, and make a new choice—a light-filled choice—so we don’t tarry long in self-imposed darkness.

That bluesy morning I grabbed hold of my own tools and put them to good use. I lit a candle. Turned on the CD player. Spent some time with a precious and life-affirming book.

Within five minutes the clouds lifted. Yes, it is still cold and rainy and dusky outside by the inner fire has been re-kindled.

I now saw see seagulls navigating the gusts. Bright yellow mums in the garden. Words lovingly written upon a page.

The Buddha-smile in my heart had returned.

It can be so for any of us. It simply takes intention and know-how. And I know you know how or you wouldn’t be here right now reading these words.

So use your tools when you need to. Lean into the light. Smile like a Buddha and trust that all will be well. Because it will. 

 "We carry a center that is always returning.
~Mark Nepo

Why?

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life. You can learn more about the program here.

Why?

Do you often ask yourself why?

Why am I here?

Why is my life showing up in this way?

Why do I have to go through this?

And, yet, sometimes it seems that the whys can keep us stuck, even looking in the wrong direction so our Contentment eludes us—our inner wisdom missing in action.

Consider this instead:

We are here at this exact juncture of our life for a reason.

There is no other place we are supposed to be.

The people in our life are here to teach us.

The experience of our days is laden with hidden wisdom

to be gleaned and cultivated. 

Even negative situations

offer profound guidance for our development.

There is divine purpose in the fabric of our days. 

When we have mastered what we need to learn

from people and situations, we will move on.

And when we can, Contentment will be ours once again ...

It's called surrender.

An Unexpected Path to Mindfulness

Cleaning the Garage: An Unexpected Path to Mindfulness

Who would have ever thought that cleaning out a damp mildew-ridden, mice-nested garage could be a path to mindful attention and Contentment? Not me.

But it has been. And the really strange thing is that I am enjoying every minute of it.

Cleaning out and organizing our garage is something we do every few years but for the past four it has been done haphazardly and half-heartedly. Quickly getting the Leaning Tower of Pisa boxes straightened, fill up a trash bag or two, and be done.

Now, ten years after the blending of our families (new marriage, seven kids between us), and mice children who’ve moved in too, it’s time for the big overhaul. Not to mention tending to the dampness ...

Needless to say I'd been absolutely dreading this task. Every time I walked into the garage, I’d walk back out again. Overwhelmed. Feeling heart-pounding anxiety at the thought of spending endless days in this chaotic cavern of boxes, bins, and piles.

Then one day something shifted in me and I began. I opened one box—just one—and found things I hadn’t seen in a decade or more. They brought delight, a few tears, a deluge of memories so tender that my palpitating heart quieted in gratitude.

Photos of my 21-year-old daughter when she was eight, proudly holding her new American Girl doll, Addy. A heart-shaped porcelain box given to me by a dear friend who died this year. Dated birthday cards: “You are the best, Mom!” A tiny copper elephant that belonged to my paternal grandfather, a man I never knew.  Letters from my oldest daughter in the early days of the Iraqui conflict when she was serving as a Marine.

Treasures. I uncovered treasures in the dank cave of my garage and now every day, for a short time, like a miner seeking diamonds and gold, I gladly go into the dark and come out smiling. I have found something to captivate me for a time; to remind me of the joys of a well-lived life.

The key to my success at garage cleaning has been mindfulness. I discovered that if I committed to open and sort one box—just one each day—that I could handle this “Mountain of Too Much.” I have stuck to that vow and, amazingly, because I addressed each task with full and present attention, I had energy, extra energy, to do another box, then another.

Garage cleaning is my path right now. I take the time to look at what is in each container. I remember the events surrounding it. I allow whatever feelings wish to come to come. They wash through, often accompanied by a tiny river of human tears. Then I make a mindful decision to stay with the feeling and the item—to linger a while and savor—or to put the thing in a shiny new container. Or to get rid of it all together. The trash man likes us a lot these days.

We’ve made several trips to Goodwill and recycling, happy to pay our junk forward hoping it will become someone else’s treasure. I’ve also invested in large plastic bins. I am color-coding them (my daughter’s are green, I have pink, my husband’s are a hodgepodge of colors and he is fine with that). I also attach an index card to each bin with a short list of what’s inside.

I cannot tell you how relieved I feel. I never thought I would enjoy cleaning a garage but I am. I am feeling “easily pleased and satisfied” as the Buddha taught when each thing is put in its proper new place. Slowly. Methodically. I’m walking an expected path of mindfulness. And as I am doing so, I realize how Zen this process really is.

A Zen teacher will tell you to complete an act fully before moving on to the next. Chop wood. Carry water. Do it thoroughly, slowly, with intention. Then do it again until you are done. I have and it has been en-light-ening experience.

And now, as I near completion, I’m not surprised to hear my inner Zen master call me to the next “big project” because I have finally found a new way of approaching what must be done—even monumental things—with more energy and ease. 

Organize the file cabinets, she whispers. Sort and dispense the Christmas decorations. Consolidate the closets full of books.

I’m listening and am on a roll. It promises to be a very productive and mindful winter, one gladness-filled treasure at a time.

“The present moment is filled with joy and happiness. 

If you are attentive, you will see it."

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

P.S.: This post is dedicated to Mary M. and to Linda C. who are both doing their share of sifting and sorting, pitching and ditching. Blessings of mindfulness to you as you clear your way to Contentment!

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life. You can learn more about the program here.

Moonset at Sunrise

 

Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life. I hope you will join me here! You can learn more about the program here.

Moonset at Sunrise

We wake very early in our household. My husband rises at 5:45 a.m. and that is a bit early for me to get up on some days. So I lay in bed a few minutes more, savoring the warmth and the comfort of a soft bed in the silence of the morning.

It's dark at that time. Daylight Savings Time lies ahead, but for now, mornings are dusky and still. Though the other morning, blessed by the presence of a full moon, the early hours were tinged with magic and unexpected light. Delight.

The moon over the Bay never fails to stir my heart. On this particular morning, I could not resist its allure. Without shoes or coat, I stepped into the yard to witness it. I snapped this photo.

I wanted to make a memory—a Kodak moment to seal in the beauty of the moment. One where I didn’t plan something or put it off or make excuses. (“Too cold.” “No time.” "Not a good enough shot.”) I simply followed my heart’s urging to be fully present to what was in front of me.

So often in the hurry-filled moments of our day, we may rush beyond magical moments like these. Certainly, we might notice them but do we truly stop and savor? Take a sacred pause to lose our self in this very special moment that will never come again?

Even with a myriad of full moons each year, this exact moon, shedding its luminous light over the water, will never appear this way again. Something will be different. A haze. Clouds. Even out of camera shot as the earth continues her timeless rotation.

All the more reason to throw caution to the wind and step barefoot out onto cold, wet grass to make a forever memory. 

There are a thousand ways

to kneel and kiss the ground.

~Rumi

The Best Thing We Can Do

 Until I decide I won't, I am penning, these blog posts in support of my ongoing sacred journey course,“Creating a Life of Contentment,"  which began Sept. 15. For one entire year, we'll be traveling together as intimate companions: to relax, let go and rest into Love; to discover the bliss of our own life. I hope you will join me here! You can learn more about the program here.

The Best Thing We Can Do

When you have a tough day ...

when more than your share of things go wrong ...

when you hear the voices of discouragement sing a song of weariness in your mind ...

What is the very best thing to do?

For me, it is leaning into Metta and letting it fill my heart.

Metta, the Buddhist practice of “unconditional friendliness”—or “loving-kindness”—is the kindest and wisest response to my own unrest.

Saying four simple phrases of blessing to ourself:

May I feel safe.

May I feel healthy and strong.

May I feel happy.

May I feel peaceful and at ease ...

... may begin to melt away the tensions of the day and create feelings of calm, especially around those things that appeared to steal our Contentment.

Sometimes Contentment is fragile and tenuous. It has not put down deep enough roots within us yet. So when winds of difficulty blow, we are easily moved off center. Instead of clawing for Contentment, however, we can ease back into it, gently welcoming it in by using Metta phrases.

The Buddha taught: “Life is so very difficult. How can we be anything but kind?” He also taught that using Metta phrases for ourselves (and for others) softens the suffering of daily life.

I know it does for me.

Today, if life feels difficult, if you are in need of finding your calm center again, let a little Metta in.

The unconditional friendliness of Contentment will soon be yours ...

 ~~~~~

*These 4 phrases are the ones that I personally use in my Metta practice. They are adapted from the classic phrases used in the Vipassana tradition which are:

May I be happy.

May I be well.

May I be safe.

May I live with ease.

If you are not familiar with Metta Meditation, here are two wonderful resources:

The first, a short video featuring my teacher and friend, Sylvia Boorstein, teaching Metta.

And a wonderful article on the practice by Sharon Salzberg:

http://www.vipassana.org/meditation/facets_of_metta.php