Choose Your Life Monday is an invitation to name what pattern you will lovingly notice this week and to do so in community. Join in when and however suits you.
I’m writing this in bed in my sister and brother-in-law’s wonderful house in College Park, Maryland where I have spent the last two days hanging out, being babied by Julie and seeing great art and eating amazing food after giving a good talk at the Romance Writer’s of America conference.
(Technically, we’re not related anymore as they are my ex-husband’s family but we totally disregard that little factoid.)
Have you ever spent much time in this nation’s capital? My god, it’s bracing. Astonishing.
It’s the spiritual and intellectual equivalent of standing under the whale skulls in the National Museum of Natural History and realizing that a) you really are that small and b) you are part of this very amazing world.
A Few Sparkling Points
The Hans Hoffman painting “Autumn Gold” in the National Gallery of Art. Always make my heart soar.
Being able to weave in and out of all the musuems and galleries for free. That is just so cool.
The National Museum of the American Indian: the building! The garden! The irony (so much beauty, so many tourists interested, so many Indians still suffering right this very minute). A whole Fritz Scholder exhibit. Tears.
The Peacock Room in the Freer. A tangka in the Freer with a border of mudras the likes of which I had never seen before. Two rooms filled with bodhisattvas.
And Most of All
Being with Julie and Steve. Making new memories. Telling them stories about Bob. Showing them pictures of Lilly. Being in their house that I love. Being with their sweet selves.
It’s good to be alive.
And meanwhile, back on the fear front
I did a good bit of noticing my fear this week, of noticing when I get lost in fear and anxiety, and I practiced:
Inhaling deeply and exhaling long and slow and then looking gently and steadily at my fear, and dropping my story, whatever that story is in the moment.
It helped.
And it made my very, very aware of how very active my fear is these days. It comes and goes, sapping my self-confidence and my joy for life.
But it does not define me.
I keep turning toward it, dropping my story, and taking care of my self physically. It’s fascinating.
And a big pain in the ass.
This Week
I’ve got a doozy of a week, getting ready for Taos, plus a myraid of other projects to attend to include telling people about my one day mini-retreat in Seattle and the August Virtual Retreat for the Comfort Cafe and August’s theme for the Cafe which is Improv: Play.
And Lilly comes home tomorrow / today!!!!
So this week I want to get very specific and loving notice when I’m telling myself I don’t have enough time and I won’t do a good job and I want to
drop that story and feel the anxiety, the fear, the not enoughness, and be with it. Let it rise, abide, and fall away.
I really don’t want to rush through this week having just visited. I refuse to let fear run my life.
8 responses so far ↓
1 Sarah Jul 20, 2009
Fear is always a theme for me, and I *just now* peeked into becoming mindful and non-judging of my own experience (which is hard to understand how to do, but I get glimpses of it occasionally, which keeps me pressing forward).
So this week, I think I will lovingly notice my growth. I think I need to pay attention to that story and ignore the other one (the “I’m such a nervous wreck and it physically hurts my chest” story). Oh yeah. I mean *notice* the other one and *accept* it as a non-judgmental on-looker of my own experience. See, I’m learning!
2 Hiro Boga Jul 20, 2009
All week I’ve had hives, a reaction to something I ate. When I simply pay attention to the sensation of itchiness, when I make space around it, inviting it to tell me its story, it carries me deep into my body.
This week I will pay loving attention to the stories my body tells me; to the wisdom that lies at their heart.
3 Deb Owen Jul 20, 2009
It never ceases to amaze me how your ‘noticing things’ often coincide with mine.
I have a huge couple of weeks stretching out before me. Lots to do. Lots to accomplish. And so on.
And I’m excited about all of it. But also, yes….noticing that the stress of ‘how will I get it all done and done well’ is creeping in already.
So not only will I notice that. I will be sure that I take the time to breathe in. That I won’t skip yoga (or swimming lessons) so I can ‘get that one more thing’ done. And I’ll get enough sleep too.
Thanks for this!
)
(And I’m excited for you that Lilly is coming home.
All the best!
deb
4 linda marie Jul 20, 2009
I will lovingly notice when I am not taking care of myself this week.
I have been obsessing about my daughter, who lives many miles away from me & has a fractured tailbone. I keep wishing I could be there to take care of her. But I cannot.
On the other hand, I am with myself and don’t bother to “care for me”. I will try to change that (at least a little bit) this week…
5 Julie Jordan Scott Jul 20, 2009
This week I will lovingly notice when I respond to myself as if I am “less than” or “not worthy of”…
I will continue to stretch myself creatively and open my arms (heart, spirit, soul) to the kindness people offer me constantly.
I will speak and not be afraid what I say isn’t important enough…and will lovingly forgive myself when the internal editor strong arms me into silence…. and ask her to go back into her cave.
6 Jennifer Jul 20, 2009
Love reading all your wondrous intentions.
7 Kat Jul 20, 2009
I am so glad you are enjoying the pleasures of the metro DC area – I have lived here most of my adult life and have yet to see even a fraction of the wonders in the museums here despite regular visits. There are many more off the beaten track as well if you come back to the area. Let me know if you ever decide to do a meet and greet when in town.
I will lovingly notice when I am damping down my high spirits by letting fear thoughts creep in. So many wonderful things are happening in my life now, my children are moving forward, my job is going well and so on and yet, the fear pops up, so I will be aware and ask it what it wants and help it to be soothed.
My fear is a blue, tubby creature which grows bigger when provoked, I like to offer him (yes, my fear is male) hot cocoa and put him in a rocking chair with a healing shawl.
Kat
8 Mahala Mazerov Jul 22, 2009
I spent most of my childhood years on a Marine Corps base near D.C. The Smithsonian museums were like my own private treasure attic. As I grew the treasures changed, but the exhibits still felt like HOME.
The Native American building was under construction last time I visited, the Natural History museum has had huge renovations. (Did you get to the butterfly habitat?) The Bodhisttvas have taken on a whole new meaning for me.
In short, you’ve given me a whole new longing to return to this city.
Meanwhile, back on the fear front… Every day I work to make peace with my illness and exhaustion and try to drop my personal story around them. Then I go a little deeper to find the human story of so many ill, exhausted and so forth. Sending out love, my fear dissolves. Until next time…