Jennifer Butler Basile
Nature, fate, the universe, the Spirit – has a way of prevailing.
While we humans fret that we may impede it,
that if we do not clear the ground and make way,
the right way will not progress –
we give ourselves too much power, too much credit.
All shall move forward on its own course.
We just need to stay that course.
I wonder if God intended our minds to race
to rush from the wonders of the universe to a bit of ham stuck in our teeth
the tick of the speedometer to the sun glinting in our eyes to the trickle of guilt in our hearts
Love, lust, and what to have for dinner
Are we to let it run roughshod over our mental terrain
or train it to a specific point?
hilarymurdoch.wordpress.com
Focus or freedom?
How much is intentional
and how much is divine inspiration?
Stream of consciousness
vs.
clogged waterway.
And how do we pull the plug?
People in their right minds – or moods anyway – don’t anticipate their next inevitable bad day. The appearance of them every once in a while proves their unfortunate existence, but people in their right minds don’t dread bad days on a daily basis.
I don’t dread such days either. I live down days every day of my life.
A good day is the out of the norm experience for me.
The words, I feel good, dawn as a surprise, a foreign thought and sensation.
What should be the modus operandi of my life, with the occasional interruption of shitty days, becomes a cause for suspicion. A lightness of mood, a clarity of mind, becomes the bone of contention. That is the square peg for the round hole – rather than the overall scheme being the problem.
I feel my psyche has sucked me into a trap; luring me closer with the promise of bright light and fresh air, only to drape me in cobwebs deeper and darker than before. Instead of experiencing a ‘ lightness of being’, I drag around the weight of fear – that it won’t last, that my life will never be the way it was before the clouds.
. . . That we should all bask in the warmth of sunshine on our skin . . .
Irham Anshar
What is it about the anxious mind that creates a sense of urgency where there really need not be one?
Yes, we are busy.
Yes, there are things to do,
schedules to adhere to the insides of our minds,
errands to be run,
appointments to be met.
But what is it that turns that mind into a manic maelstrom?
That makes setting priorities an absolute impossibility,
that makes logic ooze out our ears,
that brings the piles of ‘pending’ into focus, yet nothing else.
The urgency is not in response to anything urgent at all;
it is the anxious mind’s way of attempting to exert control over –
an over-scheduled life?
a transitional phase?
poor planning and posturing on our part?
We go and go and go
until –
what?
Reality smacks us on our asses?
A Tahitian vacation beckons?
We find the right cognitive behavioral therapist and drugs?
The unwitting interference of fate may be the only solution,
for we’re far too busy worrying to actively pursue any other option.
Has a massage ever brought you to tears?
Tears that spring out of nowhere at the release of tension you didn’t even know you had.
The line between physical and psychic stress often blurs.
We often operate at such a high level of continuous stress that it doesn’t even register unless we disturb the flow.
A few months ago, my father and I attended Tai Chi classes. It was something he had wanted to try for quite some time. I found a class offered at the community center in my town and we went. I was used to the gentle flow of yoga, which the instructor told me is a cousin to Tai Chi, but this required an even higher level of calm and restraint. With my high-strung, perpetually-on-a-treadmill ways, it was a stretch of a different kind. I told myself to slow down as my cloud hands swept across the room, but it was something long since foreign to my body.
At one of the sessions, our teacher led us through a meditation we’d never done before. I didn’t know how relaxed I could get without lying prostrate on the floor, but I dutifully took my breaths and moved my hands – and started to cry.
It was not a bad day. I did not feel overly stressed, anxious, or upset. And yet, once I allowed my body and mind to slow, the pressure slack, the excess overflowed.
I wanted to kiss this little old lady for releasing my five elements.
But I need to channel my own little old lady. I cannot look outside for inner contentment. I must make the time to stretch in the morning, to adjust my posture, to make a mental scan of my body and release the tension.
I need to be more self-aware and body-aware so that a small chink in the dam doesn’t lead to a crazy rush of water I didn’t even know was collecting. It shouldn’t take a breach to make me notice the physical, mental, and emotional stress I’m holding.
My mental and physical health should be about maintenance, not damage control.
Chopping Potatoes 