It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That’s why we wake
and look out- no guarantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
this art of gathering in and down and in-between shows us how to ruminate away from exhaustion, anxiety, and brokenness…..what is distorted is filtered and reshaped into new joys and sorrows…..this arc of sanity invites us into space that does not spin off into an endless storyline…..may you measure your life in calm grooves…..
Like any skill, mindfulness needs effort. But many of us have been told- or tell ourselves- that we don’t try hard enough, haven’t got it in us, or fail because we’re lazy. So we may try too hard, thinking we have to do everything perfectly. This makes the whole business of effort a bit tricky. The commitment we cultivate in mindfulness practice is nonjudgmental. We’re loyal to the present moment, which takes the form of a willingness to gently come back from distraction again and again. It also includes compassionate acceptance when our mind wanders off. When we notice how we judge ourselves for not being good enough, or our meditation for ‘not working,’ it helps to remember that each moment starts fresh. We are never damned; we can renew our commitment in every moment. Noticing our distraction is a cause for celebration, not recrimination…..Ed Halliwell
We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store
and the gas station and the green market and
Hurry up honey, I say, hurry,
as she runs along two or three steps behind me
her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.
Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?
To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?
Today, when all the errands are finally done, I say to her, Honey I’m sorry I keep saying Hurry—
you walk ahead of me. You be the mother.
And, Hurry up, she says, over her shoulder, looking
back at me, laughing. Hurry up now darling, she says,
hurry, hurry, taking the house keys from my hands.