Tag Archives: About this Blog

Thank you and Amen, Day One

I have been spending the day missing Blogtoberfest, my inspiration for publishing a blog post every day.  I am writing every day for National Novel Writing Month, but since that project is intended to be a draft of a birthday present for Eric, I can’t really share it here–the boy reads my blog.  I toyed with taking the day off, not publishing a blog post today, but after a month of doing it faithfully, I’m not ready for that just yet.

Then I was reminded of a facebook meme that runs the month of November, 30 Days of Gratitude.  There are lots of other gratitude projects and resources out there.  For example, “Zoom in on Gratitude: 30 Day Photo Challenge” (can’t wait to try that one next), and Britt Bravo has lots of ideas on her website, “Have Fun * Do Good.”  So that’s what I think I’m going to do the rest of this month.  I’ll still do Monday’s Something Good and Tuesday’s Three Truths and One Wish, but on the other days, I will offer up my gratitude.

Photo by vistamommy

Gratitude, Day One: I am grateful for practice.  To train and repeat, to come back again and again with mindful attention.  No expectations of perfection, but rather with the intention of continuing to show up, to not judge what happens as “good” or “bad,” but rather to simply keep going, to be, again and again.

I have many practices in my life: yoga, mediation, walking the dogs, and writing.  Each of them gives me the opportunity to meet and work with myself, wherever I am.  Every time I step on the mat, sit on the cushion, enter the park as I hold my two boys, or pick up my pen, I begin again.  I am rooted, centered, steady, and present, and even when I am not, I am trying.

“We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart.”
Pema Chödrön

This baby Robin learned to fly in my backyard this spring. To learn to fly, you have to practice.

  • What do you practice?

Starting Over, Again.

I got an email today, someone I love talking about being “45 and starting over.”  It made me think of all the times I have done it, called a do-over, begun again.

Photo by Steven Depolo

  1. I married at 18 and moved to Arizona.
  2. I moved back to Oregon and got unmarried.
  3. I moved in with my mom and dad and went back to college, (a change inspired by the loss of my friend Heather).
  4. I moved to Colorado and married Eric.
  5. We moved back to Oregon and I went back to school, again.
  6. We moved to Colorado, again, and I went to graduate school.
  7. I got out of a bad work situation and started working on myself, (inspired by the loss of my dog Obi and my friend Kelly).

Lucky seven?  There are a few things after all this practice that I know are true when it comes to making changes, starting over:

  • I am already whole, (all of us are).  I am not a problem to be fixed, or a project to take on.  “Improving” or healing are about becoming what I already am.  My friend Courtney wrote a blog post the other day about the same kind of thing, “Not Fixing.”  In it, she says “Say goodbye to the wrench and screw driver approach to your healing. You don’t need fixing. You have all that you need inside you for your healing to take place.” Thank you.  Amen.
  • To practice “self-help” does not mean that I have to change who I essentially am, but rather be true to who I am.  To change, I make a commitment to manifesting that which is fundamental about myself, my basic goodness and wisdom.  What I do let go of in this process are habits, and actions or thoughts that no longer serve me, (that probably never served me the way I expected, the way I needed). “The purpose of our practice is just to be yourself.” ~Shunryu Suzuki

I get daily emails from Jo Ann at The Receiving Project and today’s was “You cannot run away from yourself. The sooner you stop trying, the sooner you can begin to bring love and compassion to yourself. The sooner you can embrace that which pains and transform it into that which loves.”

Brave Belly

So, what am I looking to change? In a post that seems full of them, here’s another list, the list:

  • To eat in a way that feeds a healthy body, not a sick and starving heart.
  • To continue to write daily, with the intention of eventual publication, (beyond this blog).  The daily practice and public forum of my blog will manifest this in an organic manner.
  • To be more settled, satisfied in my current paid work, or be financially able to let it go.
  • To be financially fit, debt-free, simply living.  To have the ability to take care of needs, save, provide, share and gift, take the occasional vacation or bigger purchase without depending on long-term credit.  To have freedom without too much sacrifice.
  • To become craftier, more hand-made, learn the skills of “my people”–farming, gardening, canning, baking bread, sewing, quilting, knitting, carpentry, car repair.
  • To be vulnerable and brave, to let go of shame, pleasing, performing, and perfectionism.
  • To repair my relationship with myself, and through that, repair my relationships with others.
  • Learn the ukelele and take voice lessons, giving my creativity and voice another outlet.
  • Be more green, more simple, more careful, more mindful.
  • Continue to develop my yoga and meditation practices, remaining open to the possibility of teaching, but not forcing it, allowing it to manifest naturally.
  • Slow down, continue to be mindful about how I spend my time.
  • Keep my eyes and heart open to great work, as I continue to do good work.
  • Be aware of the ways I can grow deeper into myself, seek out those opportunities with kindness and wisdom.

My Mondo Beyondo class taught me that there is power in dreaming big, making a list of all the things you want and sharing it. “What happens when you give an unspoken wish a place to become a dream come true?

ScribbleIf you are looking to begin again, start over, “be the change you want to see in the world,” you might want to read:

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” ~Anais Nin