Summer, mindfulness, preservation, and finding room to breathe

We need to take a cue from summer; it's time to take a breath. Summer is still with us, but the cooler mornings and heavy dew when we wake up remind us that the earth is still turning, whether we notice it or not. I think we should notice it. The birds, the crickets, the other small denizens of the dense weeds and brush behind my house all know enough --are instinctive enough-- to accept each day as it comes to them. Do they make plans for their safety and comfort? I suppose those are plans, but likely it is merely preservation, borne on the wind and in-born in their species. I feel that clicking and ticking myself, this need to clean up the nest, and prepare for whatever comes next. But today, I hope to just do what needs doing, and be done with it. I want to accept each moment, each sip of coffee or hymn at church, as it comes to me. I won't fret (at least I'll try not to) about things beyond my control: weather, the temperature of the pool, G's upcoming doctors' appointments and surgery, the state of the world... those things, I can notice, but I cannot directly impact. I have to learn and relearn that lesson. 

This is the essence of mindfulness, a practice I struggle with, but I know I need to work on, for my own preservation. I had one of those knotted-up days yesterday, and the sense of overwhelm was palpable. G took Holly out to her swings for about 25 minutes, and I dropped everything and went to meditative breathing. I went deeply into the practice for 20 minutes, and it was really helpful, at least for the short-term. Later in the day, G and I went to the store for a few items, and I decided we'd go out for dinner. We've been super cautious about money this summer, due to the lack of income, and the vagaries of short term disability. It's a true quagmire of bureaucracy, and cannot be depended on-- oh, they get around to sending a check, but only after they have diddled about for weeks, and then the whole process starts over again, even though it's supposed to be the "replacement" of your weekly paycheck, at least a percentage of it. They want proof --all of it, all the medical records-- sent every single time, and then they sit on it for a week. So maddening, and really hard to work with. That said, it's been stressful on that account as well. The hospital and other ancillary services bills are streaming in. It's unpleasant, to say the least. But we had to get out of the house. Nothing is so defeating as worry and playing mental defense for long stretches of time. Beer and pizza were the best idea I could come up with, and I'm glad we went.

So back to centering and focusing and parsimony today. I'll finish my coffee, go to church, and I hope I hear something that helps me focus. I often do; it might be in the homily, it could be from the readings, it may even be that I'll hear a line in a hymn that strikes me, even though I've likely heard and sung it dozens of times. Maybe it's just the pre-Mass quiet. I'm glad I have that space to depend on. I'll come back home, make a breakfast, and then clean the bathroom. It gets a lot more use, with us home all the time this summer, and it could use a good scrubbing. Clean space=clear mind, at least for me.

I hope your day is filled with quiet moments that you can soak up like so much necessary water. Stay hydrated, folks.

C