Unwinding, with discipline

We all unwind in our own ways and those ways can differ depending on the stress or challenges we’ve been facing. A few weeks ago I realized I needed a break when I knew I’d just committed to something in a conversation with my boss, but had no recollection of what it was. That evening I forced myself to do some online research. Two days later I booked a getaway and just returned from a retreat on walking and wellness with some welcome warmth thrown in since it was in Florida.

As we did tai chi or breathing exercises we were encouraged to be in the moment and try to ignore all the static going on in our brain. Our assignment for one nature walk was to see 5 things, hear 4 things, smell 3 things, touch 2 things and find something to taste. In our discussions on romantic walkers like Beethoven and Thoreau, and Victorian norm-breaking pilgrims like George Sand and Alexandra David-Neal, we explored threads that can connect and inspire us all. Learning about the history of the labyrinth and then completing a couple of meditative labyrinth walks was meaningful.

In this day of multitasking, despite all the studies that show is not effective, it takes discipline to concentrate on something as simple as inhaling and exhaling. It took discipline for me to sit down and find a program that fit what I needed and to then follow through. It takes discipline to remember to build self-care into our busy lives. It also takes discipline to discover what relaxation discipline works best for us. I hope to continue a few of the techniques I learned last week and encourage you to build in some unwinding time every day this week. May we have the discipline to unwind!

Marilyn

Beyond the promises

My vacation started with an early morning flight to Las Vegas. We picked up a car and drove Route 66 to Sedona, AZ. It was a long but very interesting day, and I was enjoying watching the clouds come across the mountains as I sat on the patio off our hotel room. There was a brief but loud storm. Then came the rainbow. And, then, another. A double rainbow was a marvelous start to my trip.

What I forget - and perhaps you do, too - is that the rainbow is there as a reminder. Sure, there is science behind it, but it didn’t start with science. It started with a promise. In the Genesis story it is not Noah who says, “I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature.” No, it is God who explained that this rainbow will be a new thing, a sign representing a promise that God was making right then, right after the flood God thought was necessary to cleanse the world.

When I need to remember something, I write it on my to-do list, on a post-it, or send myself an email. I don’t understand the theology behind God needing a reminder, but I do understand the feelings. There is fear that, given enough time, events, even enormous ones, lose their impact. History is full of phrases like Remember the Alamo, or Lest We Forget. God didn’t, no, God doesn’t want to forget the promise to never again send such devastation. We need a new rainbow, a sign that another devastation is over. Not a promise to maybe think or talk about it. And, not from God, but from those in a position to do something about guns. And, we need it now.

Marilyn 

With a little bit

Eliza Doolittle’s father charms My Fair Lady audiences with his wish for a little bit of luck so he can have it all and not get caught. His song came to mind when I had a couple of “little bit” incidences this week. Both involved a twinge of guilt. After a long intense Monday that included an extended commute home, I bailed on my book club, consequently missing an evening with a group of interesting women. Early on Friday morning I emailed the staff saying that the office would be open even as the snow continued to accumulate to more than 8 inches in some places. The guilt was because I planned to work from home even as I urged them to travel safe.

It seems odd to focus on a “little bit” in this time of very, very big things. From mega this to super that, we expect big. And, despite our expectations and hopes, we usually experience or settle for the little bit and are often grateful. Most of us have known times when that extra little bit in the paycheck made a big difference. When that tiny light at the end of the tunnel gave us a glimmer of hope to help us get through. When that small act of kindness turned around a crappy day.

Right now we need a little hint of spring, of renewal for the spirit. Sure, for those of us digging out from blizzards, a crocus would be most welcome, but we are all waiting for that little bit of common sense, decency and truth to appear in the headlines. A little bit of a break from the constant barrage of things that cause us to shake our heads and ask, “What next?” When you experience any positive little bit this week, please pass it on. We’d all be a little bit better for it.

Marilyn

I'd be lost without it

No matter your age, there are things that we now rely on that didn’t exist the first ten years of your life. For those of us with more decades, that simply means more things.  But, whether you are a millennial or a boomer, we are all experiencing a rapid rate of change, including things that we would now be lost without. Our lives are fuller, our tasks easier, our choices greater. Take a minute to reflect and I’ll bet at least three things come to mind for you.

I’d be lost on the treadmill without my earbuds and phone that enable me to listen to a book and tune out the blaring music except for the beat that can give a rhythm to my strides. I’d be lost without that phone as my connection to others through calls, emails and texts and as a means to google, and without my iPad and computer on which to write. From Uber and GPS, which we literally might be lost without, in transportation to technology, from the arts to medicine, all areas of our lives have things we would be lost (or worse) without. 

But, there are many casualties to all of those beneficial things, and I think one of the greatest losses is silence. We are bombarded with noise, with the opportunity for noise, 24/7, so much so that many of us are uncomfortable in those rare moments of quiet. Not me. In fact, of late, I’ve been seeking it out more and more, reveling in the silence outdoors and in. It’s not always a peaceful or easy feeling, but ultimately it is calming and restful, and I’ve come to realize I’d be lost without it.

Marilyn