Yesterday while doing yoga, I heard a loud thud. I got up to look out the glass doors to see what happened. I saw a bird twitching on the ground and realized it had flown into the glass. It stopped moving, and I went back to my yoga mat. For the next few minutes, I kept checking out the glass to see if perhaps it had just been stunned and would soon fly away. However, that did not happen; the only movement was the wind rustling the feathers.
So having the contemplative mind that I do, I wondered why I was so touched by this occurrence. It came to me that what happened to this bird is the same as what can happen to any living being, including we homo sapiens. It was probably just seconds before that the bird was making a stop at one of my feeders to grab a quick bite to eat. He wasn't even enjoying the moment because the mind was focused on the next move. Well, it turns out that the next move was the last. This happens to deer, squirrels, raccoons, skunks, etc as they simply try to cross a road to get to their next task in life. It happens to humans as we rush from one place to the next and end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This leads to the thought of how important it is to live in the present moment because in reality, it is all we have. We would be so much more at peace if we could reach a place of living in the present moment and enjoying it. Instead, we rush through each moment just to arrive at the next task or event and some times that next one never comes.
We can't change the past nor predict the future, but we can live right now. It's all we have.
Thought for the day: The meeting of two eternities, the past and future....is precisely the present moment.
-- Henry David Thoreau
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Mountain Pose
In previous postings, I have mentioned that Sundays have a different feel for me. They are steeped in memories. Now I am realizing that Saturdays feel that way, too. So I have been contemplating why do weekends feel so unique. In fact, it's more than just a feeling; it is as if I am transported. There is no similar occurrence for weekdays.
On Saturdays I can feel the bustle of chores being done, and a special lunch being made. My mother worked full time so weekends were different; she was around and busy. Sundays, of course, were all about the weekly trek to the small Lutheran church which included its own cast of characters and always a wonderful Sunday dinner. On the way home from church, my dad always swung over to the mailbox to grab the Sunday paper. While my mother put the finishing touches on dinner, my dad would watch the late morning news shows. In later years, we might have gone out to eat on Sundays. These rituals began as a small child and continued until my mother passed away at age 78. I still spent time with my father, but things were never the same. My children became a part of this routine, too.
Until recently, I couldn't really understand why were these things so ingrained in my brain (to the point of almost being there). It is finally clear that those people and experiences were the longest in duration of any others in my life. They became in my mind a place of security and longevity.
This brings me to why I named the post "Mountain Pose." I do yoga several times a week in my home, and each exercise begins with that pose and returns often to it. Mountain Pose is a place of grounding, strength and well being. It's simple but profound. Your legs are planted on the Earth, the chest and head are slightly elevated, and you stand strong and secure. Now I make the connection between that special period of time in my life and this pose. My parents, the people of that community and all the experiences associated with it were my "mountain pose." One by one those people and those times have been wrested from my life and now at the age of almost 54, I have to come to terms with that and learn to look back with gratitude and fondness. It can never be recreated. I can't join a local Lutheran church and make Sundays dinners and expect it to be the same.
I suspect that weekends will always have a different feel; that will not end. It is nice to come to an understanding of why.
Thought for the day: Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.”
― Dr. Seuss
On Saturdays I can feel the bustle of chores being done, and a special lunch being made. My mother worked full time so weekends were different; she was around and busy. Sundays, of course, were all about the weekly trek to the small Lutheran church which included its own cast of characters and always a wonderful Sunday dinner. On the way home from church, my dad always swung over to the mailbox to grab the Sunday paper. While my mother put the finishing touches on dinner, my dad would watch the late morning news shows. In later years, we might have gone out to eat on Sundays. These rituals began as a small child and continued until my mother passed away at age 78. I still spent time with my father, but things were never the same. My children became a part of this routine, too.
Until recently, I couldn't really understand why were these things so ingrained in my brain (to the point of almost being there). It is finally clear that those people and experiences were the longest in duration of any others in my life. They became in my mind a place of security and longevity.
This brings me to why I named the post "Mountain Pose." I do yoga several times a week in my home, and each exercise begins with that pose and returns often to it. Mountain Pose is a place of grounding, strength and well being. It's simple but profound. Your legs are planted on the Earth, the chest and head are slightly elevated, and you stand strong and secure. Now I make the connection between that special period of time in my life and this pose. My parents, the people of that community and all the experiences associated with it were my "mountain pose." One by one those people and those times have been wrested from my life and now at the age of almost 54, I have to come to terms with that and learn to look back with gratitude and fondness. It can never be recreated. I can't join a local Lutheran church and make Sundays dinners and expect it to be the same.
I suspect that weekends will always have a different feel; that will not end. It is nice to come to an understanding of why.
Thought for the day: Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.”
― Dr. Seuss
Thursday, April 11, 2013
If Life Were a DVR
I don't fancy myself a lover of technology, but I do have to say the DVR is one of the greatest inventions. No longer am I held captive by commercials or an entire show. For instance, when watching Andy Griffith I can skip Henry Winkler (aka the Fonz) pitching reverse mortgages to old people. Or maybe while watching American Idol you don't want to see Nikki Minaj play with her hair one more time....Fast Forward! While watching Ellen, I can skip ahead if I really don't care about Mario Lopez's pets. It's great! Now I either DVR a show or watch public television that doesn't have commercials.
People will often ask me if I have seen a certain commercial to which I must reply "I don't watch commercials." You can cut almost an hour off a two hour show by skipping commercials.
So this got me to thinking about the possibility of life being recorded on a DVR. How wonderful it would be to either skip ahead to avoid a winter that is getting too long (like this one) or I would love to skip to June 1st so our renter would be gone. You could also reverse so you could spend another day with loved ones that are gone or revisit your childhood. One might also want to spend some time with your children when they were young; just one more day watching them play in the park or snuggle in your arms. There is nothing like new love so wouldn't it be awesome to go back to the first few days of a new romance.
Of course, the rule would be that you couldn't change a thing; all would be left as it was. You wouldn't have the option of fast forwarding through the bad parts. You would also have to fast forward to reality once again. Well, I know this is a pipe dream but awful fun to think about.
Thought for the day: “No man is rich enough to buy back his past.” Oscar Wilde
People will often ask me if I have seen a certain commercial to which I must reply "I don't watch commercials." You can cut almost an hour off a two hour show by skipping commercials.
So this got me to thinking about the possibility of life being recorded on a DVR. How wonderful it would be to either skip ahead to avoid a winter that is getting too long (like this one) or I would love to skip to June 1st so our renter would be gone. You could also reverse so you could spend another day with loved ones that are gone or revisit your childhood. One might also want to spend some time with your children when they were young; just one more day watching them play in the park or snuggle in your arms. There is nothing like new love so wouldn't it be awesome to go back to the first few days of a new romance.
Of course, the rule would be that you couldn't change a thing; all would be left as it was. You wouldn't have the option of fast forwarding through the bad parts. You would also have to fast forward to reality once again. Well, I know this is a pipe dream but awful fun to think about.
Thought for the day: “No man is rich enough to buy back his past.” Oscar Wilde
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