Surf’s Up

 “The water’s waves are churned up by the winds, which come and go and vary in direction and intensity, just as do the winds of stress and change in our lives, which stir up the waves in our minds.” ~ Jon Kabbat-Zinn Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life

It is easy for me to take my emotions too seriously. Some more than others. You  might know the ones I mean. Anger. Fear. Guilt. Resentment. Grief. Regret. Anxiety. Boredom. Hit with one of those, and I am on board and riding that wave like a professional surfer. Whether it’s the curt email, a comment that hits me the wrong way, an inaccurate assumption, a missed expectation, the arrival of bad news, lack of sleep, lack of exercise, lack of food, lack of communication, or a lack of whatever I think shouldn’t be lacking, if not careful, I’m up on my emotional surfboard catching wave after wave. Unfortunatly, others can get dragged along in my wake.

Someone once told me that an emotion only lasts for 90 seconds, and that it is our stories and inner dialogue that keep it going. I haven’t tried to verify that assertion, so for now, let’s just take it as true, because on some level it strikes me that it is. Caught on a wave of emotion I can become my own artificial wave machine, generating waves like at those inland water parks for landlocked surfers.

I am learning that when another one hits, if I can score even 90 seconds, I can let that wave pass.

Not ignore the wave. 

Not fight the wave.

Not turn my back on the wave.

Just let wash up onto the beach, and then head back out to sea.

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MARGINS

Today is my sister's birthday. This post is shared with gratitude for the best sister a girl could ask for. Thank you for teaching me about the need for margins. They make all the difference. And... Happy Birthday Margie!! Where would we all be without you?

The Need For Space

Imagine a book in which the pages have no margins, or a photo where the image fills the frame with no space in which to sit.  The empty space is as important as the rest.  For it is the emptiness in which the words fill the page, the art the canvas, the photo the wall.  Without it the power of the words and beauty of the image is lost. Or at best, diminished. In order to be fully there, they have need of some  space.  So do we.  We have need of margins in which our lives can reside.

And yet.

The urge to fill my time with doing feels relentless, the willingness to simply stop and rest like a foreign language. Doing means I am getting somewhere. Doesn’t it?  Or in the constant going am I spinning my wheels, and in the doing am I coming undone. The ancient text says there is a time to work and a time to rest.

And yet.

How to find time in the midst of days that seem too short, calendars too full, the very real needs that press upon us, and the list that never ends? Like most things, it starts with one thing. Getting up thirty minutes earlier so as to linger over that first sacred sip of coffee.  (A no brainer.) Arranging my days more carefully. (Effort required) Shutting the door for thirty minutes of solitude in between meetings. (Often impossible)  Or maybe just five. (Usually doable)  Saying ‘no’ just once. (Scary at first, f-ing liberating as skill develops)  Not answering the phone just because it rings. (That’s an option?) Disconnecting from the internet so as to log on to my inner one. (Learning to surf all over again)

In order to write our stories well, to make something lovely of the lives we have, space is required. Margins can be as expansive as a silent retreat or sabbatical, as far away as a remote island, as close as a walk around the block, or as brief as a deep breath.

Where might a bit of space exist that is there for the taking?

Photo by Tom Pierson

Photo by Tom Pierson

First posted in September 2014 on Matters That Matter