Tag Archives : mindfulness


Be Here Now

In one of my favorite blogs, Kelle Hampton recently wrote, “there are two kind of moments in life…Filler and Fueling.”
She goes on to explain that the filler moments are things like “scrubbing the toilet, crying on a shoulder, a bad night of sleep” while the fueling moments are things like “gathering with friends to sip wine, watch a sunset, kiss each others’ babies.”
Sometimes it’s hard to appreciate those filler moments, when all I want to do is FUEL, FUEL, FUEL. Sleep in and cuddle with AJH rather than head to work, blog and make headbands rather than do housework, eat out and shop when I should be home cooking and saving money.
Once again it’s a little bit of the “ill with want” syndrome. I just want more, more, more of the BEST moments, and I have a hard time getting through the mundane or (literally) poopy ones. Sometimes I think it makes no sense to go through life doing things I just don’t want to do (clean, exercise, work, you know….). If I think in the philosophy of Patti Digh, what would I want to be doing with my days if there were only 37 left? Scrubbing things? Nah. Playing with Annalee and having family cuddle time in the big bed? YES!
At the same time, I know those “filler” moments are necessary in life. As Kelle says,  “The filler has its place. It is the reality of life. We work, pay bills, clean house and wipe runny noses. We lose our patience, say things we don’t mean and feel inadequate for what we don’t accomplish.Sometimes we cry, say sorry, regret things or wish we could escape *this* moment.”
But, right when you’re about to feel down and out…she reminds us with, “Oh, but the Fueling. I live for the fueling. And when it doesn’t come soon enough on its own, I bring it.”
So, inspired by Kelle, on Thursday afternoon when I was fed up with my filler moments, I picked up AJH from the sitter, quickly came home and went straight for the gym clothes and tennis shoes before I had time to take respite on the couch with the latest Us Weekly and episode of Real Housewives. I strapped AJH in the stroller and off we went. 
It was my first time walking with her, or doing any exercising whatsoever, in months. I had been making plenty of excuses like it being too hot, or being too tired, or too busy making headbands. It felt so good to get out in the fresh air, notice the leaves changing, and listen to AJH coo to the Ipod. 
Except I soon noticed that the whole time I was supposed to be “fueling,” I was thinking. 
Not thinking in a good, contemplative way; more like in an anxious, spastic way.
Instead of enjoying the beautiful fall day I couldn’t help but think about what we were going to eat for dinner, what AJH was going to wear tomorrow, what I needed to buy on my next shopping trip, how much money was in my checking account, you name it. 
Because I’ve been reading Life is a Verb, by Patti Digh, and her words about living intentionally were fresh in my mind, I quickly stopped myself from all this “thinking” and tried to just be present in the moment.
It didn’t last long. Even as I was supposed to be “fueling” it was quickly turned into a “filler” moment as I spaced out on my current “to-do  list” and responsibilities. 
It took actual WORK to keep my mind from drifting. I tried jogging for the first time in seven months, and as I picked up my pace it became easier to let go of the static. Even if I had to repeat “refuel, refuel, refuel” to stay in the moment, that’s what I did. 
Suddenly I was noticing things. Pretty things. And ugly things. And EVERYTHING.To stay focused I said, “look at those orange mums” or “that patch of grass is exceptionally green” or even, “there is an empty gum wrapper” (in my mind, of course). I did whatever I had to do to stay present in the moment. 
And it worked!
So whether I’m filling or fueling, my goal is to “be here now” and once again “live in the moment and make it beautiful.” 
(Can you tell this is a reoccurring theme in my life? Just how many blogs can I possibly post on this topic before it starts to sink in? As Patti would say, maybe 37.)
I’ll end with a few lines from the song  by Mason Jennings that inspired the name of this post.
be here now
no other place to be
 
all the doubts that linger
just set them free
and let good things happen
let the future come
into each moment
like a rising sun…
 
it’s all new today
all we have to say is
be here now”
 photo taken by my one of my students, Faith Lucas

Finally, it makes sense 1

So, here is my second attempt at responding to “Ill With Want.” I wrote, and I wrote, and I wrote, and guess what? I feel better. MUCH better. 
So there is a reason why I chose to safely tuck away my first response to the song, “Ill With Want.” I realized soon after posting it that it just wasn’t quite time for it to be written. Not all things were exactly ready to be cosmically connected.
Before I was ready to REALLY write this piece, I had to have a good soul-mending talk with my friend Valerie about life and our purpose and all the potential we have to be awesome (insert LOL here). I needed time to read the book she lent me, Life is a Verb, and see that I am not the only one wondering why THIS (moment, life, cheeseburger, pair of jeans, amount of money, relationship, etc.) just doesn’t seem to be ENOUGH. 
And it’s not that it’s never enough, it’s just that I want it ALL and I want it now. I want every bit of happiness, beauty, and perfectness out of every possible moment. I want to have as much of this good, luscious life as I possibly can, before it’s all gone. And if things don’t feel happy, beautiful and perfect at the time, I’m out looking for it somewhere else.
When it took me over a year to get pregnant I ended up spending hundreds of dollars on designer jeans. I thought that somehow it would make it all better if I just had really pretty jeans. 
Well, it didn’t. 
(But it is my story.)
When that didn’t “fill me up” I realized I just needed to love and nurture something so I begged my husband for a puppy. A few months later I had Henry in my arms, an adorable, cuddly, black bear of a Labrador Retriever. 
And within a few weeks I was dead set on getting another puppy…immediately. It wasn’t that Henry wasn’t enough for me to love, but I wanted MORE; more to love, more to enjoy, more to cuddle and hug. I know I loved Henry with all I had, and didn’t neglect him for hopes of something newer and cuter (because he was pretty darn cute) but for some reason my brain couldn’t be satisfied with just him. I needed MORE of him. 
And soon after Annalee (my pride, my heart, my soul) was born, I told Ben I was immediately ready for another baby. It was like my heart couldn’t handle all the love and awe and beauty it was holding. I thought if I had another right away I could somehow make room for it. That may not make any sense, and it’s very hard for me to explain. I guess I just loved her so much that I wanted more, more, more, of her. I now realize that I can let my heart love her wholly and completely without fear, and when the right time comes, my heart will open up and expand and allow me to love another baby just as much (at least that’s what all the other moms tell me). 
In “Ill With Want,” The Avett Brothers say, “The more I have the more I think I’m almost where I need to be. If only I could get a little more…” I’ve blamed my longing for “more” combined with a splash of impatience and a pinch of perfectionism on ADHD, anxiety, depression, and just pure spastic-ness. I’ve tried everything from yoga, and meditation to medicine and as I listen to the words, “I need for something, now let me break it down again. I need for something, not more medicine,” I am haunted in a way that I don’t feel comfortable admitting. But, I have to wonder: what would happen if I ever let go of this heavy weight that I seem to be carrying? Would I still be me?
Before I was ready to REALLY write this piece I had to meet a sweet little girl selling beautiful necklaces, hand-stamped leather bracelets and meaningful cards that were just perfect for Valerie and my “purpose-of-life-clarity-conversation.”
And, before I was ready to REALLY write this piece I needed to stumble upon this quote typed simply on said sweet little girl’s hand-made stationary before it could all made sense.
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.  Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.  Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.  Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.  One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.  
~Mary Jean Iron
Ahhh, yes. This is what I needed for it to all cosmically connect. 
So, as I reflect back on what I first wrote, I know there are some truths, but I also know I didn’t really relay them in the way I had hoped. I fear my first blog post (which only you lucky RSS feed readers got the privilege of seeing) came off as tragic, and sad, which is soooo not me (at least I hope). I think it may have come off as me being depressed and unhappy and unsatisfied with my life. Maybe I am a little BLAH at times, and maybe I don’t always appreciate what I have, but I certainly hope I don’t run around town pulling at my hair and acting all angsty like Kristen Stewart playing Bella in Twilight. I think what I was trying to say was while I may not be “ill with WANT” anymore, I am definitely still struggling with living in the MOMENT and appreciating it for whatever it may be; the good, the bad, the ugly, and by god, the NORMAL. (eeek!!) 
One of my biggest fears has always been mediocrity and the fact that I ran across that quote is a pure blessing. 
Normal day…Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. 
So you’re telling me it’s okay to be normal? I don’t have to live in Italy or go on African safaris or be Oprah, or publish a book or own a (real) Gucci purse to be happy? 
Well, shit. I’m glad someone finally filled me in because for some ungodly reason I’ve wasted too many years living in the world of Seven jeans, white teeth and perfect pink toenails rather than that of a woman who is happy with the simple treasure of a hand-tooled leather purse, and chipping nails, not to mention teaching a kid how to write a metaphor, making a homemade meal for the man she loves, rocking her baby to sleep and writing half-way decently about life. 
Yes, there may be ten weeks worth of magazines stacked on my coffee table, dog-hair piled in my corners, and an overflowing mess of headband making materials on the kitchen table, but it is mine. Is it all perfect? No.  But it is a treasure. My treasure. Our treasure. 
In Life is a Verb, the author, Patti Digh, had her AHA! moment when looking out the window into her backyard amid picking up Cheerios and cleaning maple syrup off the kitchen floor. She saw the “orange and yellow lilies and happy zinnias and Tessie’s bright shoes and swing set and the little red plastic chair on the deck outside” and thought in a sudden rush of emotion, “I have everything I need. I don’t need anything else, ever.” She then proceeded to list all the fun things such as heart-shaped Teflon waffle makers and, my personal favorite, little yellow doggie raincoats (which I have actually bought) as things she no longer needs. “No more making lists of things I ‘need’—I’m done, I’m happy, I’m eschewing materialism once and for all.”
Yessssss…. how good would that feel? Sometimes I think that is what all of us moms/women/people are looking for. That moment of clarity as if to say, “Hey, it’s okay. This is pretty darn good.” (Maybe that’s where all those “Life is Good” stickers came from? They must have read Patti’s book).
She went on to reveal, “When I saw those little-girl shoes in the green grass, one sock nearby and the other one gone to Sock Heaven, the spark of color in those blooms, and the blue, blue sky, what I felt was a sense of satisfaction, even in a toddler-screamathon syrup-on-the-floor kind of day. It was enough. I simply felt full, satiated, complete, engaged.”
“I was fully attentive in that moment. I was saying a big yes to my life—to all of it, the zinnias in the sun and the syrup on the floor.” 
It’s my motto: “Live in the moment, and make it beautiful” in real-world terms.
And in an even more genius move, Patti next wrote, “What keeps us from being fully attentive, from saying yes? I think it’s all the stuff we carry around with us.” 
In college I read The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. He wrote, ‘They carried all they could bear, and then some, including a silent awe for the terrible power of the things they carried.’ I think each of us carry all we can bear, including the innate knowledge that we may never part with that which haunts us. 
And years ago I wrote, “We all have something we must overcome, but somehow never really want to let go of.” Mine is written in these pages, hidden in this 2,000 word manuscript, and maybe, just maybe, the more I write, the more I let go of what I carry and say a big YES to my life. 
Instead of pining away for “more” beautiful, “more” good, “more” happy, “more” babies, “more” puppies, and sometimes yes, “more” money and material things, I will make an effort to remember that what I have is just enough…actually way more than enough.
I have a beautiful life. It is good, and happy. I have everything I have ever wanted, including my soul mate, a healthy daughter, an protective puppy and a charming old home with black shutters and a bright green door. 
I try hard to drink all of this in daily and never take it for granted and writing helps me to remember. Some days I feel lost and unsure, confused and sad. But on those days I must look back on this piece and know that whatever THIS is…
…this writing, and sharing, and connecting, and reflecting and realizing…
THIS is what makes me happy.
Right now.
And that is all that matters.
Right?
PS- Talk about cosmically connecting. Read Kelle Hampton’s blog from yesterday. LOVE it (like always!).

Let me try this again….

For those of you that got my response to “Ill with want,” I have decided to remove it from my blog for now. I am not sure I came across with the right message and want to rework it. 
For those of you that already read it, I just want to be sure you know a few things. 
First, I love my life. 
I am filled with joy every day,countless times, especially when I wake to see my baby’s smiling face. 
I love my husband and daughter more than life itself. 
Being “Ill With Want” is not about not loving them or not appreciating the beautiful life that I have. It’s about being able to stop and “live in the moment,” rather than always looking toward the next big moment. 
It’s about being present–whether I’m folding laundry or going for a walk. 
It’s about realizing that I have all that I need and it is all ENOUGH (while living in a society that breeds the desire for more, more, more.)
I will rework what I had previously posted, but for now, I just wanted to make a few things clear. 
Thank you for following me on this journey!