Autumn mornings are quiet and dark. There is no bird song, No early sun out my window. Just the hum of taxying planes at the airport. People start their workdays so early. But they showed up So we can all get to our destinations And on with our day. Another example of our interconnection. And the small prayers, the anxious breath, the trust and faith. All on the line. A prayer for safety, A prayer for the pilot and staff Happening right outside my window With each taxying plane. The roaring, powerful jet engines Remind me to breathe and meditate And to send good journey vibes To my fellow travelers in this life.
Tag: breathe
Surrender
It is an action not inaction to surrender. I allow that support And I am held, Comforted and loved. I breathe And I receive. I am grounded. The ground will always Meet me where I am, Catch me when I fall, And support me always.
GLASS
The clear, cool barrier Protects me from the outside world. It provides shelter with a view. The glass is hard on the knuckles. But like all things, It has a limit to what it can hold. The barrier can be broken With enough external force. The window will not crack on its own. Even a glass pan can withstand Hundreds of degrees of heat. Only when it contacts the opposite -- The abrupt and sudden cold -- will it shatter. Glass is an insulator. It holds heat and cold. It cannot exist in both extremes simultaneously. Yet, each day I find myself In a pendulum swing between the two. But I have not cracked. Through mindfulness and peaceful presence, I am aware of the extremes before I’m swept away. I find my footing and breathe. I am not as fragile as I used to be. I am not trapped by the glass. It is a tool at my disposal. I reflect on the lessons And remember I can open the window. I can open the door and let the heat escape Before it boils over. The window may be a barrier, But the view is all mine.
“There is Nothing Wrong with You.”
Maybe it was the title of the book that caught my eye on that fateful day in the College Hill bookstore. Or maybe it was all that pent up teenage angst. The contradictory belief that I was The quiet and good girl. I was helpful and nice But a mental punching bag for bad boys And my big brother blaming My very existence for Ruining his life. I was an innocent But carried so much blame and shame. Too much for my 17-year old self to handle. That book opened a doorway And I felt the words jump off the page Viscerally into my ears, mind, and heart. And I could finally breathe. Uninhibited, unrestricted I was accustomed to hiding the cries And sharp sips of air from sobbing. I was trying to intuitively calm myself But not finding the support or space to calm down. I was made to feel weird and awkward For my self-soothing efforts. I felt at peace for the very first time. Comfortable with my steadiness of breath and mind. This was my very first time practicing meditation with just this book by Cheri Huber as my guide. Oh, how I craved that feeling. It was an incredible high, I was filled with love and acceptance of who I was on that very day. Looking back, the framework of a Mindful practice had come into focus. I was empowered, Elated that inner peace was truly possible. My meditation practice has evolved since then. I typically listen to guided meditations these days. I have new teachers that I follow: Sharon Salzberg, Hunter Clarke-Fields, Kris Carr to name a few. But it all started with that one book that has brought me to new heights. Clarity, insight, calm and peace are always within my grasp And I am forever grateful.
Maybe
Maybe I should have stayed in the meditation longer. My stomach rises quickly snapping against my snug dress pants as I breathe breath of fire. I pause and take a break. I look for the EASE. I try to be gentle. Maybe today is not my day And that is okay. Can I forgive myself For not being “great,” For losing my momentum, For my perceived act of giving up? I can breathe And offer myself the grace I long to hear. That it is okay. Today is as it’s meant to be. The mundane, gray days Make the inspired days Sparkle with brightness. Can I find my inner light here too? We can’t do everything. One person’s mold or tools Are not a one-size-fit-all. And even though I know this to be true, I find myself at 45 Adjusting and rearranging To make it work for me Unapologetically. That is enough. I show up and Create my days to Conform to me And not compare or judge myself. I let myself off the hook And that is enough.
Five ways of looking at the breath
1. Deep, slow rhythmic pace It grounds me. It takes me out of my thinking mind and I embody the present moment and smile. 2. A sense of control I can hold my breath. I can lengthen my exhales more than my inhales. I can whistle. I can sigh. I can sing and even make myself yawn. 3. Tight and constrictive In those moments of anxiety or hurt, my breath is shallow and tight like a sharp pain in my chest. When I try to take a deep breath, I feel my chest constrict and tighten like a sob about to break free. 4. Connection All living beings on this planet breathe be it with lungs or gills. We all enter this world and take our first breath. We laugh and cry together. We can chant OM. We can sing a melodic tune. 5. Conduit to peace When I remember that I can control my breath, I create the optimal route to peace with just one breath. I could argue with my words or ruminate an imagined reply in my mind. Or I can breathe and let it be.
We all carry a little trauma
I originally published this blog in 2019. I still feel it’s relevant and we all need the reminder of our common suffering.
We all walk around with a little trauma in our back pocket. Sometimes we forget it’s there. Sometimes, unbeknownst to us, we pull it up and it’s in our face without any warning. How we experienced the trauma is individual and unique: what happened, how we dealt with it or didn’t deal with it, our own personal experience of the trauma. We were innocent one moment and then the event rocked us to the core and that is something we all share.
We’d like to pretend it never happened to us. Why talk about such negative things that don’t affect us now? The event shaped us whether we’d like to admit it. We can choose to acknowledge this trauma that we’ve been carrying around for far too long. Perhaps we’ve grown tired and exhausted from the heaviness of that burden. And it has metaphorically created a hole and fell out of our pocket. However it happens, the opportunity lies before us.
Do we quickly scoop it up and bury it once again? Do we distract ourselves and hide it, ignore it or stuff it? Or can we just for a moment accept our common humanity that trauma unfortunately happens. It’s a part of the journey of life. But it doesn’t have to control us any longer. It happened, for sure. It sucks. Who wants to rehash unpleasantries?
But once we acknowledge our common human experience – our trauma – something shifts. Our burden lightens. We see that we are not alone in our suffering. It is okay. We are not justifying what happened, but right now in this moment can we feel safe? Can we take a breath? Can we sit with this feeling for just a few moments?
Here’s what I would like you to do right now. Don’t engage in a dialogue with the trauma. Just be the listener. Write if it helps you to sort out your thoughts on paper. Treat yourself gingerly, with the softness and tenderness as you would a small infant. You were innocent when it happened through no fault. Can you see what “trauma” is showing you? Is there a message? A nugget of wisdom that you can explore?
When you’ve listened to what has to be said, put your hands on your heart and just breathe for a minute. Counting breaths helps. I like to count to 10. One, inhale; one, exhale. Two, inhale; two, exhale, etc. I promise you that any fear, anger, or other strong emotion you feel will dissipate if for just a moment you can let it out. It’s been bottled up for too long.
We all carry a little trauma
We all walk around with a little trauma in our back pocket. Sometimes we forget it’s there. Sometimes, unbeknownst to us, we pull it up and it’s in our face without any warning. How we experienced the trauma is individual and unique: what happened, how we dealt with it or didn’t deal with it, our own personal experience of the trauma. We were innocent one moment and then the event rocked us to the core and that is something we all share.
We’d like to pretend it never happened to us. Why talk about such negative things that don’t affect us now? The event shaped us whether we’d like to admit it. We can choose to acknowledge this trauma that we’ve been carrying around for far too long. Perhaps we’ve grown tired and exhausted from the heaviness of that burden. And it has metaphorically created a hole and fell out of our pocket. However it happens, the opportunity lies before us.
Do we quickly scoop it up and bury it once again? Do we distract ourselves and hide it, ignore it or stuff it? Or can we just for a moment accept our common humanity that trauma unfortunately happens. It’s a part of the journey of life. But it doesn’t have to control us any longer. It happened, for sure. It sucks. Who wants to rehash unpleasantries?
But once we acknowledge our common human experience, our trauma, something shifts. Our burden lightens. We see that we are not alone in our suffering. It is okay. We are not justifying what happened, but right now in this moment can we feel safe? Can we take a breath? Can we sit with this feeling for just a few moments?
Here’s what I would like you to do right now. Don’t engage in a dialogue with the trauma. Just be the listener. Write if it helps you to sort out your thoughts on paper. Treat yourself gingerly, with the softness and tenderness as you would a small infant. You were innocent when it happened through no fault. Can you see what “trauma” is showing you? Is there a message? A nugget of wisdom that you can explore?
When you’ve listened to what has to be said, put your hands on your heart and just breathe for a minute. Counting breaths helps. I like to count to 10. One, inhale; one, exhale. Two, inhale; two, exhale, etc. I promise you any fear, anger, or other strong emotion you feel will dissipate if for just a moment you can let it out. It’s been bottled up for too long.
I’m tired of living in fear
We are all connected. And the speed of information has advanced our society into a global community. You want to learn about X? What does Google say? Information is literally at your fingertips if you happen to own a smartphone. And knowledge is power.
Even though my family got rid of cable years ago, we still have access to the news from our phones and apps on our TV console. I love that we can choose what to watch when we want to. But we do channel surf through YouTube and you can’t escape the collective fear that is ever present. The recent tragic events and acts of violence have pulled at my heart.
I love working in Providence. It’s a city rich in history and I’m proud to be a native Rhode Islander. It’s a beautiful city to walk around: the Brown University campus, the financial and downtown districts, and historic Benefit Street. But I’m tired of living in fear. If a car comes racing by or a strange box truck is around, I tense up and anxiety takes control. My leisurely walk is interrupted and I’m terrified for a moment, especially if I’m around city hall or a federal building. It never used to be this way. Fear never played such a prominent role. I started working full-time a little over a year ago. And I loved the city. I drank in the architecture, the people on their way to work, students walking to class, and the waterfront. It was a welcome sight.
But over these last few months, the anxiety has been building. Yesterday as I was walking to the parking garage, a box truck stopped right in the middle of the street and began to back up. Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue. There’s construction everywhere and the street was a one-way. But the truck seemed to be backing up and keeping in pace with me as I walked. Cars behind the truck began to honk, and it seemed like the truck was going to back up regardless of traffic. This odd behavior made my anxiety soar. I started to run, and all I could hear was the incessant “beep, beep, beep” as it continued to reverse. I had the worst panic attack. I feared it was going to blow up right then and there next to the financial district. I had visions of me getting into the garage on the fifth floor and being toppled over by the above floors during the explosion. I couldn’t wait to get out of that garage.
Once I got behind the wheel and started to exit, I shouted, “I’m tired of being afraid! I’m tired of living in fear! I’m tired of freaking out over a truck! I just want to be able to walk in peace without feeling terrorized!”
I don’t have an answer during these crippling moments. I just try to deepen my breath. I remind myself that meditation helps ground me and I should meditate more and journal more. Events will happen that are beyond my control. And one thing I can control is my breath.
How do you bring calm when you’re feeling anxious or overwhelmed?
Healing Insights 