Like all of life, this summer season has been filled with wonder and worry, connection and loneliness, accomplishment and anxiety. Joys and sorrows. That used to disturb me more. But with mindfulness, it’s become easier to appreciate that everything is impermanent.
As a recovering overachiever, I’ve lived most of my life believing that striving is a good thing, an essential thing really. Like Gordon Gecko explaining greed in Wall Street, “Greed, for a lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works,” I believed striving was good. Striving worked.
This past week I’ve been struggling. Struggling to stay focused and not to be waylaid by worry. And the source of my worry? My relationship. The one with my unreliable partner. Passion.
My Taylor has always been James. Every song from his early Sweet Baby James album was deeply etched into my young heart, where they remain today, ready to be re-activated at any time.
I recently had a dream that I was smoking. Well, actually the dream was that I was at party where there were lots of really interesting conversations going on. Very smart and witty. I felt great, at the top of my social game, moving comfortably among groups.
There’s a coaching exercise I’ve used called A Peak Moment in Time. The client remembers a moment that was memorable or poignant in some way. These brief slices of time stay with us, like the photos we choose to save. Looking at them helps us clarify what we hold dear, what we value.
As a newly minted solopreneur in the personal and professional “transformation” space, having recently left the corporate world of organizational “transformation,” seeking opportunities to speak on “transformational” leadership, I recently pondered the meaning of this now ubiquitous word.
There is a meditation I’ve done where you imagine yourself like a mountain, broad at the base, tall on the sides, clear at the top. As the mountain, you observe with less judgement all that occurs. It’s a helpful way to allow sensations.
Early last year I did a weeklong silent meditation retreat. One of the practices they guided us through (one of the few in which we were allowed to speak) was Metta, also called Loving Kindness.
It’s Sunday and I’m remembering how for many years of my working life (and maybe student life before that), Sunday afternoons were the time that any peace, calm, or enjoyment I was experiencing began to transition into worry, anxiety, and dread.