I always try to remember my fortunate birth and live in gratitude.
This morning I am thinking of my parents. They were spiritual in the best sense, both leaving the forms of religion behind as they opened their hearts and minds beyond the confines of organized dogma to growth and inclusion. My father was always Bible based. My mother, too, I suppose, but she was a searcher. She embraced new thought on old concepts.
What I am especially grateful for this morning, however, is their lifelong belief in nutrition as the basis of good health. Our gardens were organic. Our table was blessed with rainbows of fresh fruits and vegetables before it was in vogue. And, they both had a hate on sugar. I didn’t see white sugar in my home. There was rich raw sugar used sparingly and honey when we needed sweetness.
What a boon!
I had my breakout years when I followed the golden arches and slurped up the frosts. But, “raise up a child…” and all that. It was easy for me to fall back into my good habits when I began to see the toll on my body.
Thank you, Mom and Dad, for the wonderful life lessons.
It’s easy to have faith when all is going well, isn’t it?
The sun is shining. My day moves smoothly from coffee with a friend to reading or weeding in my yard…either is as good as the other… and then the trials come (this year it is health issues). Worry and concern move into gear.
What should I be doing? What if the doctor is wrong? Why am I not getting better? What should I be doing?
Around and around.
It isn’t so much concern over the prognosis. And it isn’t just the question of what path to follow toward wholeness, I get totally involved in micromanaging medical issues which are far beyond knowledge and expertise – no matter how much I listen to advice and read. It all raises an additional question of where to place my faith.
My meditation becomes rife with mind chatter. In some cases I can’t even get to the garden variety menu planning as I sit, visibly calm, invisibly on the high wire. I perserverate on what I will say, what I will do, what I should remember, and what is the worst-case scenario.
It’s always “worst case” in the middle of the night.
That’s why I loved a recent Super Soul Sunday interview between Oprah and Jon Kabat-Zinn*. It brought me back to mindfulness of what I have right now. I don’t know why I always need the reminder that this moment is all that I ever have, but I’m grateful each time I get the nudge.
His additional message was to trust those who I have engaged to take care of my health. Then I can use my energy to stay calm and do the best for myself without worrying about their process. I needed that!
I can have faith in the process of life and living each moment of it.
*A pioneer in the field of mindfulness for stress reduction and health benefits.
Your opinion is your opinion, your perception is your perception–do not confuse them with “facts” or “truth”. Wars have been fought and millions have been killed because of the inability of men to understand the idea that EVERYBODY has a different viewpoint. John Moore
I’m wondering when my opinions become the strongest. Or more to the point – when am I the most vociferous about them?
Many of my opinions are strong. Although I no longer see most things in black and white, I still veer toward the more intense colors of any subject. What, however, looses my tongue and makes me argumentative about them?
Alcohol, of course.
Anger, when aroused can create some heated arguments.
Fear, which is the basis of anger anyway.
Last night I could hear my ideas flying about like razors even as my friends gently leaned away from me. And so I spent my go-to-sleep drowse and my wake-up-thoughts coming to understand my behavior. I must be compassionate with myself and not spiral into self-denigration.
I have been a little bit ill too long without answers. My energy is beaten down. My confidence is shaken. Fear trembles beneath the surface of the unanswered questions. Anger bubbles up in defense.
I owe some apologies this morning.