Good Morning! Another beautiful morning when I pause to notice. The pause to notice can be the difference between a good day or a crunched, not-so-good day.
I’ve wasted a lot of time over the course of my life with worry, strife and pressure to conform. While all the time, my ever-patient soul stands on the sidelines waiting for me to pause, acknowledge it and move in the direction that I need to go next. It’s no longer about waiting for a better time or set of circumstances. The soul stands there, hands on hips, frown on its face, tapping its foot impatiently (not literally), reminding me that time is short and I need to get on with it.
“With what exactly?” I inquire. “The life you are here to live!” of course.
There have been times that I wanted to divorce myself. Because…I’m too sensitive, It’s too difficult, I’m afraid, I don’t have what it takes, I’m not talented enough, I haven’t had formal training, I’m not focused. This sweet and familiar litany of excuses.
Life is short and I want to cram everything in which becomes another distraction from what I’m here to do at this time in my life. I can’t remake the less-than-perfect-past. I’d like to set a strong boundary with that! Try as I might, it’s not re-makeable. “Have I learned from it?” is the only question worth asking. Can I move forward now?Morning Pages
Turning towards this singular day is where the power lies. The morning pages is an exercise that author Julia Cameron named. I’ve mentioned this process in earlier blogs. It’s a sort of “blurting” on the blank page. This helps to clear the stage of yesterday’s stuff and make room for what’s here and now. I don’t always pause in the morning to write the morning pages. I find that when I do, it’s helpful…like removing a clog from a stopped up drain, things flow better.
Apart from pausing to write the morning pages, I do recommend pauses throughout the day. We get on our personal treadmill, driven by our to-to-list. It can be merciless! That’s when I realize I’m enjoying life less. I choose pausing as a practice, a conscious choice to stop and notice how I’m feeling, where I’m at, who I’m with, what I’m doing in this moment. Yes, even and especially our mundane tasks invite us to pause. As I write this, I notice the pen moving across the page–yes, I write with a pen on paper versus tapping at my computer keyboard (that comes later). I watch these words flow across this lined page. I look up and out the sliding glass door and beyond the deck to the Eddies capped with snow. A pause to notice reminds me what is right with the world.