Tag Archives: in the moment

Trying to Be a Woman with No Future

Yesterday, I saw a Byron Katie meme that said, “I am a woman with no future.” There was a time I knew myself as such but of late, I am caught up in the way of the world rather than the way I work.

I know they are not mutually exclusive but I have lost sight of myself, looking only to the future. My body is taut, my perspective narrow. Two writing submission deadlines loom, and neither essay is coming together.

I am focused on the deadline rather than the content, looking to the end stage rather than the words it takes to get there. I need to be a woman unaware of her future.

It means bringing the meditative state into my day. For me, writing does that but the world does not stop because I write. Even without deadlines, writing occupies most of my day. Words are always forming phrases.

I pass over one thought for another and then maybe go back to the original. Regardless, I find out what I’m thinking. I have great respect for mind and all that it produces, which is a lot.

I’m not sure that I ever allow my body enough respect, especially when I am writing. It, too, requires movement but unlike moving words around on stationary screens, the body in motion takes me away from screens. Words float, sometimes out of mind.

If I sit just a little longer I tell myself. I’ll set a timer but I sit too long or maybe, not long enough. Without an evenness of mind and body, my entire being stiffens.

Mind often dominates but at its own expense for if the body is ignored in terms of exercise and nutrition, the mind muddles. In frustration, its only focus is deadlines.

It is time for a cup of tea, and a bit of a stretch. I will find more words. There are so many–more than enough–but I have only this one moment.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

Staying with the Small Stuff

I find solace in curiosity, in knowing each moment is unique. No matter how many times I perform a certain task, in this moment the experience is new.

Who knows how it may all turn out.

What I’m discovering is that if I stay curious, equanimity is not as difficult–even in the really hard moments, perhaps especially then.

Equanimity may be most evident in the small stuff, the routine of daily life. Here, my chronic illness is an advantage for my time is mine.  My day opens with meditation and yoga but when that day begins may be at 4 AM or 10 AM or noon.

I live a “routine of no routine” routinely.

This seems small stuff because it is. Yet, there was a time–even after the day job ended–that if I did not rise by a certain time, the day was over before it began. Now, I aim for even, and see where that takes me.

The result is I think less and accomplish so much more.

I immerse myself in the task at hand such as the slicing of a Pink Lady apple for my breakfast. The world around me expands. Occasionally, there is revelation. At first, that took me out of my moment but now—with all the other thoughts–it rolls on by. My mind evens out.

I think less and discover more. Once, my pursuit of the impossible blinded me to the details of what is possible. Why pursue the future when so much awaits me now?

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

Nature’s “Repeated Refrains”

wood-stork-0214I experience life within the frame of a single day, every day. For me, that is living in the moment. My focus is here and now, not backward or forward. I have only this moment, this day.

Things that matter take time to root

and meaning takes time to blossom.

Mark Nepo

Bud Opening 0814

It is the way of nature, “her repeated refrains” as Rachel Carson calls them.

I, too, have seeds to sow. Some will not blossom in my lifetime, which is as it should be. Others like compassion and joy or love and kindness are perennials, and I will know their blossoms time and again.

Would that I walk in a field of blossoms every day….

Too many times I do not recognize fertile ground—I only see a fallow field—I miss the opportunity to plant the seed. On those days, I escape the experience of being alive; I am elsewhere, looking back to a moment already lived or anticipating a moment that might never be.

I try to remember that what is best in me takes time to take hold. Yet, a moment of kindness or thoughtfulness is a seed well planted. It is the stuff of perennials. I am here to sow for all the life that comes after me. It is essential that I am reverent in my work.

There is something infinitely healing in the repeated

refrains of nature—the assurance that

dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.

Rachel Carson

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.

This One Lifetime

Living in the moment can seem idealistic, an idyll.  It seems impossible and irresponsible for what of all the days to come?

Eberhard Arnold says it’s a “burden” to look too far ahead–“each day is a lifetime.”

I agree.

When I think of living in the moment, I think of the day I have and not much beyond for that is neither guaranteed nor owed me.

And what will I do with this one lifetime?

wonder-at-waverly-0414

Within the frame of a day everything seems possible. I give my all and why not? This is my moment, my lifetime. I immerse myself in what I am given, grateful for experiencing existence.

Every day you may have broken

down in guilt and failure.

Every day may have shown you

your helplessness a thousandfold.

Yet each new day brings

new sun, new air, and new grace.

(Eberhard Arnold)

I no longer consider a day as good or bad, dark or light. Mindfulness is my label.

Grace does not take up much space, a sliver of light is sufficient. Sometimes, that is all the sun I know. Yet, I live and breathe, the very essence of joy.

It is my lifetime, my moment, this experience of existing.

Thank you to Caroline Johnson for today’s moment of equanimity via Eberhard Arnold.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.