"Mindfulness is simply being aware of what is happening right now without wishing it were different; enjoying the pleasant without holding on when it changes (which it will); being with the unpleasant without fearing it will always be that way (which it won't)." ~James Baraz, Awakening Joy: 10 Steps That Will Put You on the Road to Real Happiness
Hello Friends:
Still teetering on the edge of the abyss. Needing a lot of alone time. I spent some time sitting in the park tonight. It was warm, with a slight breeze. The air was filled with the sounds of happy people; many children. On scooters, skateboards, bicycles. Families sitting at picnic tables. A new mother, holding her baby on a park bench, with an older woman at her side. Probably a grandma. People walking their dogs. A group of teenagers, walking about. A group of young men playing basketball.
Life is still going on.
And so is the pandemic. Cases are approaching 2 million in the US as most of our cities open back up. The civil rights protests continue, mostly impressively peaceful and organized. And with them are talks of defunding the police. Which I am learning is not as drastic as it sounds. Most states are considering reallocating funds so that we don't rely so heavily on the police to resolve all our conflicts. More funding for mental health, social services and programs to serve our marginalized populations. https://www.ksat.com/news/local/2020/06/07/theres-a-growing-call-to-defund-the-police-heres-what-it-means/
Yet, amidst this storm of social crisis, I am sitting in a quiet center. Like the hub of the wheel. But I am invisible. My inner quiet is almost peaceful; there is a low pitched hum in the back of my skull. I am guessing that is anxiety, a bit of depression and a dose of caffeine.
I sat and breathed. I read. I spoke to my son on the phone. He is feeling impatient. He is nearly halfway through his sentence. We read Genesis 4 together. By the time he is released, we hope to have read all, or most of the Bible together.
Speaking to him grounded me a bit. He has a real struggle. Mine is mostly in my mind. And my emotions. My struggle is there no matter what. His is situational. And he will overcome. He is strong. He has pulled himself out of a deeper abyss than I will ever know. The abyss of addiction. Drugs and alcohol.
My addictions are patterns: Overeating. Self doubt. Negative thinking. You would think they would be easier to conquer. But they have been with me for so long, I am not sure what would remain if I rid myself of them.
But I will find out. I am determined. Every day I am devoting a few minutes to my mental and emotional health. Just like my Qi Gong practice, my walking, my Bible study, my music, my housework. I am reading several positive books on mental health: Awakening Joy: 10 Steps That Will Put You on the Road to Real Happiness by James Baraz and Shoshana Alexander;
The Self-Confidence Workbook by Barbara Markway, PhD and Celia Ampel; Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb; and Practicing Mindfulness by Matthew Sockolov.
These are the books I am reading now. But they are the tip of the iceberg. I will not tell you how many books of this genre I have downloaded on my Kindle. Or about my public storage unit filled with boxes of books. Or of the digital books I have on hold at the library.
Call me a book hoarder. I'm o.k. with that
It is tempting to skip it. To just claim fatigue and lay down to watch Criminal Minds (not sure why that show is so comforting to me - I should probably explore that in therapy!), or read a novel, peruse a cookbook, watch a movie, scroll through Facebook or Twitter, play Words with Friends or listen to talk radio. I have many mind numbing hobbies.
But my new goal is to spend a portion of my day in mindful activities.
But I am determined. Every night I write in my gratitude journal. And I read a bit from one of my scads of books. I fear that part of what lies at the bottom of the abyss - if there is indeed a bottom - is all of the books I bought or checked out or downloaded, but didn't finish.
One thought that came to me in the park today was: It is o.k. if I am invisible. My life is not over, but my youth is. I seem to be clinging to a raft. That raft is my self esteem, my broken dreams, and unfinished projects. The truth that is hovering beyond my acceptance is that I need to let go and be more in the now. And be ok with me as I am. But there is another aspect of me. A resistor. Someone who says my life is not over until it is over. I can still run that marathon. I can still break free with my music. I can still find a man to love. Wow, did I just type that? I didn't know that was even on my list.
And here I was just going to check in and say "hi".
I really do need to sign off now. I have self help books to read. A bit of piano to play. And a nighttime Qi Gong routine to go through.
Thank you for putting up with my stream of consciousness. I hope you are well. And finding quiet in the storm of our current world.
Talk to you tomorrow!
Love,
Zita
Hey: If you enjoy reading my blog, you can now buy me a cup of coffee! (Or Tea!) :)
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