A Moment to Breathe

 

It seems the Universe is not vested in my martyr complex after all, and so I’ve been able to go on my long-scheduled trip back home to Minnesota this week. (Part of my heart still thinks of Minnesota as home, and I find that funny - it’s been 40 ??!!! years since I last lived here.)

It’s a chance to leave my to-do lists behind and pause in the Not Yet before Kate’s surgery at the start of next month.

Stop.
Breathe.
Relax.

Yes.

Welcoming Myself

In yoga the other day, the instructor invited us to settle onto our mats. Then, she asked us to envision a time when we felt welcome. Once we captured one such time, could we break it down just a bit, probe the feelings underlying the moment? Perhaps acceptance, perhaps joy because someone felt joy in our presence?

Then came the kicker - could we welcome ourselves to that room at that moment? 

I gave it a shot - and, I could! I envisioned myself opening my arms to me, pulling me into the space. I felt a frisson of the joy I feel when I am welcomed, and was able to carry that bit of self-acceptance into my movement practice.

That night, as I settled into bed, reflecting on my day, the moment came back to me. It made me realize how I take my presence in my life for granted.

I'm a good show-er up-per. I keep a list of things to get done each week, and usually make a good dent in the pile of tasks. I realize I can be a bit hard on myself, chastising me when I don't make sufficient progress in checking things off the list (using whatever arbitrary scale I'm using to define sufficient this week).

What I don't habitually do is welcome myself to my day.

Even the concept has a ... I dunno ... braggadocious flavor. (my word of the day!)

*sigh*

The message I once received to not think too much of myself is clearly deeply ingrained in my psyche. Be humble, put others needs first, don't be needy (God forbid!), work to blend in with the crowd, don't toot your own horn.

Hmmmm....

Perhaps, just perhaps, welcoming myself to my morning isn't showing off. I mean, it's not like I can avoid my presence anyways. What would it hurt if I greeted me with a pleasant 'Good morning. Welcome!' ? 

Perhaps this is a facet of the message I received while on the Camino last year - that my life would be easier if I relied on my strengths.

Perhaps.

The Grass Is Greener

Ah, September!

Many of my life's changes in direction have had their launch in late August and early September, and they've left their mark on my psyche.

My soul remembers all those first day of school moments, fresh supplies and at least one new outfit at the ready. Mom died in early September. I launched into motherhood one late August, started my camper van journey that same time of year several decades later. Last September found me walking across Spain.

The sun gets up a little later, the quality of the light shifts towards the softness of fall, and I'm ready to go. I woke up this morning wanting to explore beautiful places, to head off into the wild blue yonder, to transplant myself to new surroundings in anyplace that's not here, to start afresh.

Ain't happenin'.
Not this year.

I mean, I do have an important task on the near horizon. (All Kate's scans are done, the doctors are in agreement about what needs to happen in the operating room, and we're back to waiting for them to find a date on their schedules when all three surgeons will be available.) And while there's no place I'd rather be when the time comes, I'm sure you understand I'd just as soon not have this particular trip on my calendar. 

Perhaps now is a good time to remind me that this, too, shall pass. God willin' and the crick don't rise, I will have other Septembers for fun adventures. In the meantime, I have today to enjoy the beauty present in my life here and now. 

The summer heat has broken for today; we're having a fall preview in these parts. It's cool enough this morning to have windows open, to feel the fresh breeze. The sun is shining, there are still some late season flowers blooming in my yard. 

Beauty Is.