Just breathe

This morning as I sat down to meditate, I immediately became aware of my shallow, rapid breathing. I had been running late. I parked the car and walked quickly up the stairs, the last one to take my place in the group. I wasn't able to begin the meditation with the group. My first task was to slow my breathing and clear my mind.

That's what we do, isn't it? We're running late, or someone says or does something we don't like. Our breathing becomes more shallow, and our stress rises.

A friend sometimes tells me about her distress with our current political environment. I always say to her, "Just breathe." When we are focused on breathing, we cannot be focused on that which is beyond our control.

You write it:  Pay attention to your breathing. 

The Energy of Things

Several years ago, I was advised to surround myself with what I loved and get rid of everything else. So I discarded everything I had bought because it was trendy or because an interior designer said I should have it. What was left was what I loved.

A few moments ago, I finished dusting. As I picked up items, I remembered. The elephants that were the mascot for our marriage. The "Hallelujah Lady" who is the theme for my life. The Ansel Adams photographs my daughter gave me. The art from very special artists whom we love. I could go on.

It's taken awhile for me to learn what I love. Through the years, I have discarded much. Today I am surrounded by what I love.

You write it:  What surrounds you? What energy does it give?

No Words

Some news yesterday left me speechless. Something within me says I should have something wise or clever to say, but I don't. Some experiences simply go beyond words. So, for now, I remain silent.

You write it:  When was the last time you had no words for what was going on?

The Energy of Words

In his book Power vs Force, David Hawkins relates that the emotion behind the words we read, hear, and say can weaken or strengthen us, and the effect is measurable. Some words inspire us, lift us, and make us better people. Other words discourage us, anger us, and make us less than who we truly are.

That words have power is the premise of the first agreement Miguel Ruiz writes about in The Four Agreements. He says, “Your word is the power that you have to create. . . .What you dream, what you feel, and what you really are, will all be manifested through the word.  .  . The word is a force; it is the power you have to express and communicate, to think, and thereby to create the events in your life. . . . Depending on how it is used, the word can set you free, or it can enslave you even more than you know.”       

You do it:  Pay attention to the feelings in your body when you speak. When your words are true, you are in harmony. If you are uneasy, what do you need to change?

Carefree

I woke up recently with the word "carefree" on my mind, so I looked it up. One definition is "not holding onto worries or resentments." In other words, letting go.

Letting go is something I've been learning for several years. These days, most of the time, my peace is not disturbed by events beyond my control or other people's behavior. 

In "Letting Go," Safire Rose wrote, "Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go." This sentence so resonates with me that I wrote it on the front page of my journal, to remind me every day. 

In that moment of letting go, the leaf does not remember the limitations of being connected to the tree or feel the fear of falling. It's carefree.

You write it: What have you learned about being carefree?

Humility

Science writer David Blatner affirms that there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on earth. Then he writes that in just ten drops of water, the number of molecules exceeds the number of stars in the universe. Reading these facts makes me realize that so much is beyond my comprehension, and if I try to figure it out, I'm likely to be wrong. Thus I arrive at humility--learning to be content when I don't know and can't figure it out.

You write it:  What realization brings you to humility?

Speak the Truth in Love

Last week's post evoked responses. In principle, responders agreed that staying in love in all interactions is ideal--but what about really difficult situations like Hitler?

In communication, it is our tone that belies the feelings behind our words. It is the energy of the emotion that people react to, not the words.

So try this experiment:  For the next week, pay attention to your emotions. Keep a journal. How often are you outraged? insulted? angry? embarrassed? proud? fearful? guilty? shamed? In his book Power Versus Force, David Hawkins demonstrates that when these emotions are present, we are weak.

If your journaling reveals that you are experiencing these depleting emotions, then move to the energy of the heart, which is courage. Try the heart meditation on my website, www.NancyOelklaus.com/audio tools at least once a day for forty days. Notice how your ability to speak the truth in love improves.

Love Is a Decision

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love keeps no record of wrongs. I strive to live within the circle of Love.

But last week, on two consecutive days, I had challenges. People were not giving me what I thought I deserved. The first time it happened, I forced the issue and got what I wanted, with a few ruffled feathers from those I accosted. I didn't call anyone any names, but my forceful energy was clear, and I felt that I needed to make amends, which I did.

The second time it happened, on the very next day, I remembered how bad it had made me feel the day before to accost others. So I made a decision to accept what is and be gracious. Before I left that office, everyone was thanking me for my patience. No amends were needed.

Love is a decision.

You write it: When have you made a decision to stay in love instead of venting your frustration? 

Getting Out of a Funk

I was in a funk yesterday. I knew it had to do with food, but I could not articulate more specifically what my problem was.

This morning I decided to journal to discover the essence of the funk. Surprisingly, here's what I wrote:  "Cooking is Mother's job. I'm not Mother, and she's not here."

At first, as I read what I'd written, I thought, "Oh. This funk is connected to grief." No. Instead, it's not wanting to repeat my mother's food behavior and not knowing what to do. It's also anger that I must change.

Last week I started asking people like me what they do about food preparation. One of them said she has about 10 simple, healthy meal plans that she alternates. That sounds like something I can do.

So today I begin a new approach, and I think my funk will dissipate.

You write it:  Has anything been nagging at you? Have you tried journaling to discover the source?

Everyone Wins

Early one morning I listened to a voice mail message from a state officer of an organization I belong to. In the message, she invited herself to our next local meeting and offered to do a presentation that I had already spent several hours preparing and have ready.

My ego exploded. "Who does she think she is? This is intrusion. If I need her help, I'll ask for it!"

Before returning the call, I vowed not to obsess over the matter, but to go to one of my support group meetings, eat breakfast, and meditate. 

When I was sure I could speak from my heart and be respectful both to myself and to the other person, I returned the call. I simply explained my effort to prepare and stated I would like to do the program, which I had tailored to our local needs. Through the conversation, we determined that she and her colleague would attend the meeting and be available to augment my remarks and answer questions.

The next day she called back to cancel the visit. In the meantime, her friend had discovered she had to work, and the caller said she was leaving on a trip the day after the meeting and really needed the time to prepare. Via email, she sent me information I didn't have and will add to the presentation. Simple solution. 

When I speak from my heart and say what's true for me, everyone wins.

You write it:  When have you experienced a potentially resentment-producing situation that turned out well?

Home Is a Feeling

Soon our children and their spouses will come for a visit. I no longer live in the house or even the state where my children grew up. The same is true for my husband and his son.

My intention is that the peace and contentment in our home will come into their hearts and consciousness as they realize this is a special place where they are always welcome and safe.

You write it:  What is home to you?

Unfolding

Maybe it's the time of year--a time when I see graduation postings on Facebook in abundance--postings of beautiful young women I remember as toddlers or adolescents. Seeing them in cap and gown seems a sharp change--a clear break from what used to be into what is yet to be. 

It's startling only because I missed the gradual, gentle unfolding of one phase of these lives into the next. 

You write it: What is unfolding for you?

Energy

Following my husband's medical urgency and subsequent surgery, after the terror had subsided, I felt exhausted and empty. I had neglected doing what feeds my soul.

Lunch with a friend started reviving me, and I became freshly aware of the power of the energy i allow to come and go into my being.

This morning I awoke disgruntled after a restless night. Unwilling to start my day with that energy, I made a list of friends and the strength I see in each of them. Until I can find my own footing again, I will float on the goodness of others.

You write it: What do you do to shift your energy?

Feeling the Feelings

For a long time in my life, I shut down my emotions. Of course, I suffered the consequences, most notably migraine headaches. Someone who was helping me recover my whole self asked me, in response to a statement I had made, "How do you feel about this?" I answered her. She said, "You just told me what you think. I asked how you feel." I couldn't answer her question because I couldn't access my emotions.

Once when a family member died, I grabbed a broom and swept the driveway--to avoid feeling anything. This was a favorite strategy--stay busy; don't feel.

Last week, anticipating my husband's triple bypass surgery, I was scared. I cried. Several times. As they pushed him into surgery, I broke down. Ever since, I'm very tired from the range of emotions coursing through me--gratitude for the skill of his medical team and for the progress he is making, anger and sadness that we have to go through this, appreciation for the friends who have come to our aid, apprehension about what our lives will be like going forward--and rejoicing that I am able to feel my feelings.

Wise people have taught me that feelings pass. I don't have to act on them. But for my own health, I do need to feel them. 

You write it:  What do you do with your feelings?

Earth Day

I put my glasses down

And my phone,

Realizing there is no good news.

Then my eyes turn to the

Window, opening a view of

Grasses, water, trees, and sky.

That's where the good news is.

You write it:  What effect does nature have on you? How much access to nature do you have?

Breathe in Love

The last few days I've had a choice between being stressed or being at ease. I admit I have rocked a bit between the two. 

This morning I spent 45 minutes in meditation, breathing in love and breathing out everything else. It helped. I am at peace.

You write it:  What do you do when you have a choice between stress and ease?

From Splintered to Whole

A young friend recently described her life. Two toddlers, one of whom is potty training. A thriving career. A marriage. Leadership in a nonprofit that she's devoted to. Her home on the market with a move imminent. She finds herself crying with a feeling of being out of control.

As I listened to her story, the image that came to me was "splintered." In each of these roles, only a piece of her is showing up--the piece with the expertise to handle that thing. She seemed to be losing her sense of wholeness, even though she was so grateful for all the goodness in her life. So after the whole story was out, I asked, "Would you like to write an intention?"

Here's what we wrote: In the midst of seeming chaos, I breathe and realize I am alive. I am whole. I am present. 

You write it: Do you ever feel splintered? What do you do?

Wardrobe and Life

Some years ago I worked with a style consultant to help me weed, manage, and replenish my wardrobe so that it supported the life I truly wanted to live. After our work together, I felt that my wardrobe was the bare essentials I needed to live in Austin, TX.

Then I moved to Sedona, AZ, and my lifestyle changed. I wasn't sure what I would need in this new life, so I left those Austin clothes in my closet for a year or so. Then I started weeding. I kept weeding. I weeded some more, without much replenishing.

Yesterday I decided to put away my winter clothes. A task that used to take a couple of hours in Austin was accomplished in about 5 minutes, as I moved things from one rack to another. Once again, I see the truth of what that consultant taught me--that my wardrobe is a reflection of my life. Today I am so grateful for the simplicity and peace all around me, reflected by my wardrobe.

A few days ago I made a clothing purchase--3 items. This morning I took 4 items to Goodwill. That's how simplicity works.

You write it:  What does your wardrobe say about your life? Is that what you want?

The Gift of Generosity

In 12-step recovery we learn that an expectation is a premeditated resentment, so we strive to have no expectations. If we do something generous for someone, and they do not say, "Thank you," we don't take offense because that would be a resentment.

Resentments are toxic, and they hurt only the one who holds them.

So--just for today--do someone a good turn and don't get found out.

The gift of generosity is for the giver, whether any other person appreciates it or not.

When have you been generous? When was someone generous to you? How did you express appreciation? (It's never too late to say, "Thank you.")

Living Differently

Recently I hosted a brunch for 20 people in my home. As I eased into the preparation, I kept feeling that something was missing.

Finally I realized that what was missing was anxiety, as I focused on the intention of putting people at ease.

How I'm living differently these days is (1) regular meditation that clears my mind and puts me at ease (2) setting an intention for everything that is before me.

You write it:  How are you living differently these days?