Saturday Morning Mindfulness: On Practice

I like Saturdays best when taken with great patience, perhaps at a slower pace but not necessarily, enjoying more deeply each moment and activity at-hand while giving as little thought as necessary to "what's next." Very little planning actually occurs. There's no rush. Not that there is no rhythm to the day - for instance, we know that at some point in the middle of the day our bodies will need nourishment and so we'll take a lunch break. We can be prepared for this and accommodating, but we don't need to worry about stopping everything at one o'clock precisely as if lunch must be made then or else the universe will fall apart. After all, rhythm can be extremely nurturing and reassuring in such a crazy world where we feel we have little control. But rhythm is not the same as a schedule. Taking my Saturdays moment by moment, I feel it allows room for everything from my week to sink-in and settle. If I don't allow myself this one day of remaining in the "now" to contrast with my work week in which I'm steadily one or two or five steps ahead of the present, my weekend passes me by and I start Monday again wondering what have I done with the past seven days? No matter how productive I had been, those days just disintegrate and disappear and I feel caught in a whirlwind feeling powerless and lost. I'm probably not unique in this notion.

Sometimes the first day of the weekend just doesn't happen that way. Some Saturdays seem to carry on right where Friday left off, with chores and errands and appointments, and sometimes even making plans for leisure can feel like they're part of a to-do list. Anyone else get that? Funny, though: Most of those Saturdays full of pre-scheduled plans find me making as many last-second cancellations as possible because I feel bogged down by obligations, so despite a list of good-natured intentions, nothing actually gets done in the end. And on the other hand, some Saturdays can be extremely enjoyable and relaxed while at the same time even allowing room for great productivity. I can do much-needed chores and run errands that can't be put off until Monday. But so long as I approach each activity independently, with patience and with flexibility, allowing myself the freedom to do only what I can do at that one moment instead of worrying about the end-result (not setting up some day-long bulleted task-list), things just fall into place as they feel natural and at the end of the day I find I've accomplished a whole lot without the feeling of being "worked."

This particular Saturday, throughout all of my thoughts - from my groggy-eyed waking and rising off my bed, to my regular morning read-through of favorite blogs with less rush than other days in the week, to a walk and then breakfast out with my husband - I find that I'm fixated on this common thread: Mindfulness. Being in and experiencing the present moment exactly as it is, without judgement, without plans, without nostalgia or regret for past moments...and giving myself the freedom to just. be. in. the. present - with eyes open, with compassion (most importantly toward my self, because how can we begin to show compassion for others if we can't do so towards our own vulnerable selves), and with open heart and room in myself for all the possibilities of whatever comes next (but not trying to predict or pass judgement on what that will be). When my thoughts kept returning to the importance of mindfulness, the notion of 'practice' arose. Mindfulness is a practice that takes practice to achieve. I thought, I can't continue on in life being mindful only on Saturdays. Yes, it would do me good to be mindful on every Saturday, but one day a week is not enough.

There's this small part of me, born from old habits and assumptions learned as a child in grade school, that automatically thinks the phrase "practice makes perfect." But in truth, in life, there is no such thing as perfection; there is just practice, which may lead to some improvement of course, but the practice is never done. Even the greatest maestros, bodhisattvas, gurus, and champion athletes need to keep up their practice.

Some days it's extremely difficult to keep up practice. "No time" commonly gets in the way. Some days life just won't slow down long enough to allow for mindfulness and living in the present, no matter what techniques I utilize to stay centered and present. Other days I lack the compassion and forgiveness within myself and feel like a failure or that my current efforts are not good enough. But that's when practice can be most beneficial and needed. No matter how hard it is today, no matter what excuses we may make to avoid practice, it will not get easier without the practice. If I don't have a mindful Saturday, I feel lost, I know this much. That's enough to clue me in that it is so very important to me to cultivate mindfulness whenever I can.

I come to think of another 'practice' I'm working on these days: In my yoga class two Tuesdays ago, my teacher asked if any students were working with injuries or had any areas to address in particular on that day in their yoga practice. I mentioned my on-going shoulder stiffness and pain and asked if we could keep Downward Dog to a minimum that day as it is a problem pose for me to hold and maintain for very long. She told me what her teacher used to tell her when a student "complained" (in her words). "Just do the practice." My shoulders will not heal and Downward Dog will not get any easier without practice. Of course, I was reminded by my teacher to be ever-present and mindful of my own limitations, not to push myself further than I know I can go, but also not to go too easy on myself. I needed to stick to my practice. Good idea, probably.

So I come back to my Saturday, with mindfulness and practice in my thoughts and intentions as I do everything, from drinking a cup of Earl Gray and enjoying the taste and the warmth and the immediate release of tension as I drink it, to being conscious of posture and lifting my heart and dropping my shoulders as I type at my computer (I'm a habitual sloucher). From experiencing something new and opening myself up to learning and personal growth by attending a local workshop on seated Zen Meditation (how relevant and fitting that I should be discussing mindfulness, I know!), to recognizing and getting through a moment in which I feel panicked and stressed about having to make introductions to a group of complete strangers in an unexpected social interaction.

I come to this sort-of conclusion without exactly trying to conclude anything: It's a never-ending project, I am ever-aware of my need to be more "in the now" but I will try to be compassionate with myself when it just doesn't happen. I will not beat myself up, both figuratively and literally by having higher than realistic expectations. I will try not to hold any expectations. Either way, it's gonna take a lot of practice.

Photos are of an art piece by an unknown artist in the Portland area, left as free on the curb. I altered the color and quality of them.

Thanks to the artist for their beautiful work now being displayed in my living room

and for unknowingly allowing me to use and alter your piece.

A Happy-Time Sunshiney Good Drink

Even at dusk in late February, I can feel the warm rays

The verdict is still out on what to name this yummy beverage. My husband offered up "Orange Amazing," Mr. Brown, whom we got this recipe from, calls it an "Orange Delicious" (because that well-known title "Orange J@li@s" is a legal trademark), and I have to agree with you there that my idea, "Happy-Time Sunshiney Good," is a tad wordy and takes something out of you every time you have to say it three times fast. But say it nice and slow, leisurely, between fatty-straw slurps of this cold frothy drink and then... well, you'll come to the conclusion that you don't particularly care what it's called. You're just gonna drink it.

To make your own, you'll need these:

A blender

An ice cube [shape of choice] tray

1 cup orange juice, divided

1/2 an orange, zest of

1/2 cup whole milk

1 tablespoon powdered sugar

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Then you do this:

Freeze 3/4 cup of orange juice in an ice cube tray, ahead of time.

Toss the frozen juice, the remaining 1/4 cup of liquid juice, and the rest of it all in a blender. Whirrrrr it up.

Pour it in cups, some for you, some for me.

Drink it, share it.

Smile.

Makes enough for two persons*.

*Truth be told, after the initial loving/savoring with the first few sips you'll probably slurp it down pretty quickly, and as soon as your giddy brain-freeze is melted away, you'll want a bit more. So I suggest doubling the measurements, unless you're not sharing. Keep in mind, sharing is caring!

Notes on pow-sugah: Prior, my husband and I wouldn't have called ourselves even recreational users of the stuff. Not our thing, really. But our home pantry now contains a 1 lb bag, pure, solely for the purpose of making this concoction. If you don't have it and don't have a dealer who can hook you up, you certainly can skip this and you'll still have an awesome creation to imbibe, but your drink will lack a certain somethin' somethin' that granular sugar or agave or whatever just can't provide (it has to do with how quick the sugar dissolves in cold liquid, and the corn starch that exists in the powdered variety makes for a much smoother froth).

Do enjoy!

nice bumping in to you!

Oh heyyy there, buddy. Long-time-no-see! How are you these days, life treating you well? Oh, me? Have I been ill, you ask? Erm, no, fit as a fiddle. On vacation? Not quite.... not really, at all. What have I been up to? I must be incredibly busy with umpteen projects and tasks, right? Well, not much, doing just the same-ole, working a bit and keeping house - the usual routine - truth be told. But hey, enough about me, how have you been?! Ok, fair enough, so you're feeling hurt, maybe abandoned a little bit and wondering whether 'friend' is an accurate term to describe this relationship we have going here. Friends don't just hole away for months on end without ever paying a visit, I know that. Friends stay in touch and are there with you through the tough times as well as the sweet moments. Yes I'll admit, I'm a terrible friend [blogger], I'm as fair-weather as you get. You can never count on me to be there, I know that. But hey, if we're playing the blame game and making apologies, let's not fail to point the finger in your own direction. Have you really been there and listening [reading] when I've wanted to call you up to talk [write a post] about my latest decorating style for the apartment (wabi sabi), or to share our upcoming plans for Yuki's birthday celebration (she'll be one this week)? Sometimes, I just... feel like I'm talking [blogging] to a wall. Then what's the point? I mean, who cares about my boring day-to-day, surely you don't? I'm totally replaceable as a friend, anyhow, there are tons of folks out there who are just more interesting to hang out with [read about]. That's all I'm sayin'.

Ok, so I'm being a wee bit melodramatic, perhaps. But even as I write this, I honestly feel a little queer and schizophrenic about it all, as though I really am just writing this for myself. Really I only might, maybe, get lucky to have one reader today that stumbles upon this post by accident and then realizes it's not what they were looking for. But maybe that's ok? Well, even if there isn't that one reader out there (but if there is and you're still with me, let me thank you and you are welcome here!) , a lot of people blog just for themselves, to jot down ideas or to remember things, to keep a history of their days, like a digital diary. Nothing wrong with that and no shame in it. I never expected to be in any way "famous" for my blog, never hoped for as much readership as the handful of homespun/earthy/mama/housewife blogs I read religiously every morning to get inspiration, relate to, and brighten my day. Nonetheless, it's been hard for me to find the motivation to post anything these days, even for my own enjoyment. I guess I've just been too self-critical and now I'm having a little pity party about it! Indulge me. And since we're getting overly personal here (I can do that without fear, you know, since I'm the only one reading this), I've been feeling this way in general, lately. A little lonely, a little like I'm replaceable, preferring to hole up and be a shut-in because there's no one who will miss my presence anyhow. I mean no one besides my wonderful husband and best friend, of course, whom I am never lonely around and am almost never apart from besides when we're at work. He's amazing and holes up with me in our blissful little home together! And therein may lie part of my problem. I'm too terribly cozy with him, and our life together just too damn comfortable and perfect. So it's hard to venture outside of this beautiful rosy box of mine into the scary world and [blogosphere] to try to make friends or put myself out there when it's so easy to just stay in.

Well, it's good for me to come out once in a while, to socialize, to take risks and to make and keep connections. Just know it is hard for me, but I'll work on it more. I promise. I really would love to hang out and get to know you more.