Unplugged

Last week I hopped on a train to spend a couple days with my daughter. It's rare to have that time with her so I didn't hesitate to accept the invitation.

While I was getting a few things packed my mind was on whether I should take my computer, my iPad or just my phone. Which device would give me the most options to keep my mind occupied and allow me to stay connected to email, messaging, Facebook and Twitter. We're not talking about business interactions here- or work per se. Pure distraction.

The computer won out until the last moment when I realized that along with everything else it would be too heavy to lug while walking the blocks to get to her place. I begrudgingly switched it for my iPad. No DVD's and the wifi on the train is not the best for streaming, so no videos. Damn.

As I was setting up on the train, impatiently waiting for the wifi to kick in, my mind was far from the present. And when it did connect I couldn't wait to check the boxes of all the ways I could put in the time.

This went on for about 45 minutes, until I happened to glance up and see the most beautiful church steeple reaching up into the blue sky. And it hit me. I'm going to miss this beautiful fall day as we make our way through the countryside. What a shame it would be, to have my head buried in my iPad, checking my newsfeed while the real magic was happening right outside my window.

I closed my iPad. I breathed in the life around me. A flock of seagulls taking flight from a farmer's field, countless round bales of hay dotting the freshly mown pasture. A clothesline strung with  sheets flapping in the breeze. a single donkey chewing contently totally unaware and uncaring of the monster roaring past him.

I rested my eyes and mind for awhile, and let the gentle swaying of the train lull me into a comforting, peaceful repose.

Un-plugged.

What I will remember about that little trip was not about how many likes I got on a post, or unimportant emails, or videos I tried to stream. Those things are like sound bites, with no lasting content.

Life outside that window is what I'll remember. And treasure.

Namaste.

From This Day Forward

Last weekend my husband and I celebrated our 39^th wedding anniversary. I have to admit,  I haven't really paid attention to the number during the last few years- it was '30 something' in my brain. So when I realized it was 39 this year, it stopped me in my tracks. Literally. 

Something about that number made me rewind all those years, back to that wonderful day in 1977. Almost four decades together, I recalled some of the highlights, both joyful and sad. If you've been married this many years, you experience a lot together.

I also felt something else this year, something unfamiliar until now.

How did the time go so quickly, followed immediately by this sobering thought- “I don't want it to go so fast. Slow down, slow DOWN!”

But the truth of it is, life does move quickly, and I swear even faster with each passing year. My mother-in-law said that when she turned 90 (and that's a lot of years) that it didn't seem possible that her life contained so many years, and yet still felt so brief.

It's just the way it is.

The important part of all of this is that it is wake up call- a poignant reminder that our moments really are precious- and fleeting. That it's worth pausing during the day- as often as we can- just to appreciate our abundant blessings,  and the lessons we're still learning. To embrace these moments. We can't hold on to time, but we can learn to slow down long enough to breathe life in, and give thanks.

One of the gifts of yoga is to take that time to be with ourselves on the mat. To set our busy life down for a bit, to come home to ourselves, and honour our bodies- and our lives, no matter what they look or feel like. To accept what is- and to humbly, compassionately give thanks for this life we've been given.

If we can practise this, on and off the mat, life may continue to move quickly, but I have a hunch that 'from this day forward' maybe the quantity of years won't be quite as important as the quality.

Namaste.

And This Too..

Yesterday was rough. I had 2 medical procedures and the preparation ahead of time left me feeling very nauseous and headachy. It was one of those days that seemed to go on forever- and not in a good way. :)

 But last night as I was lying in bed, I began reviewing the day, and to my surprise I noticed how many sweet things also happened. Like my husband taking a very busy work day to be with me, the kind messages that our girls, my sisters and good friends sent to wish me well. The second warm blanket the nurse gave me to keep me warm and the way the doctor held my hand until I was asleep. The way my little cat sensed I wasn't well as she quietly waited on the chair outside our bedroom for me. The taste of buttery toast in my mouth when I felt better. And the sense of relief that everything went well.

For some reason, our minds seem to be hard wired to latch on to the unpleasant things. It takes practice to notice the good stuff. And there's always good stuff. It doesn't mean that we can't or shouldn't acknowledge life's challenges. Because we all know that that is part of life as well. And they make the sweet things in life even sweeter.

I like the phrase 'and this too' because it acknowledges an openness to include life in all of its fullness. And yes, it takes practice to remind ourselves that amidst the challenges, are nuggets of gold. Sometimes we have to look harder for them, but they're always there.
Always.

Namaste _/\_

Taming the Monkey Mind

There is an Buddhist expression in meditation called the 'monkey mind'. It describes the jumping around of the mind, unsettled and restless, pausing briefly on a thought that pops up before moving onto the next. Imagine a monkey swinging from branch to branch, back and forth in constant motion. You get the picture. 

Monkey minds are often in an agitated states too, dreading something that may happen in the future or fixating on something that happened in the past. 

I can relate. I can be quite the worrier at times. 

My monkey mind likes to jump ahead, imagining different scenarios, making assumptions that don't yet exist (that often turn out wrong anyway) ), worrying about 'what if'. Granted some mental preparation is often useful in planning ahead, but when it becomes rumination- well that's something else.. and it rarely serves me well. However, when I started a regular meditation and yoga practice, I began to learn that the monkey mind can be gently trained. 

When we are in a pose (asana) we train the mind to be focused on what your body is doing.  It takes time to transition into the pose thoughtfully, to tune into our bodies in an intimate way.  Pranayama (controlling the breath) can work in a similar way. When all our attention is focused on our breath, there is no room for background chatter. Instead the mind is invited to rest on the simple act of breathing in… and breathing out.

Together they work in harmony to calm the mind, and to settle some of our monkey mind chatter. We're given the gift of quiet awareness- the gift of coming home. Home to that  peaceful heart that resides in us all. 

Namaste. _/l\_