100 Lighter Days

A Not-So-Big State of Mind

 

Enchanted Rock near Fredericksburg, Texas is a huge, pink granite dome that rises 425 feet above ground and covers 640 acres. Photo courtesy of Flick'r Creative Commons and boydbrooks999

“I always told myself that if I weren't interesting, at least I'd lie,” Jerry said as he leaned back in his chair at the dinner table. “Don't you want to tell your car accident story again—this time with more drama?” He arched his eyebrows and sipped his glass of Chardonnay.

“No thanks. Not right now.” I smiled, but flat irony seeped into my voice. We were seated in a restaurant deep in the heart of Texas, and I wasn't in the mood to relive my rollover into the ditch.

Jerry's request for more excitement contrasted with Sarah Susanka's wisdom in the Not So Big Life, which I listened to as I drove to Texas. Susanka claims adrenaline has become our drug of choice. I know that's been true for me. There was a time when I might have milked my accident's play-by-play for all it was worth—or at least tried to.

But tall tales and the BIG LIFE come at a cost I'm becoming less willing to pay. If I don't start rebuilding my life without adrenaline as core operating system, my body will probably get locked in some sort of chronic condition.

During my one-week vacation in Texas, I eased past my basic physical therapy exercises. I hiked to the top of Enchanted Rock on a sunny, 80-degree day. I took as much time as I pleased to bike the long hill to a lookout the locals call “Bat Cave.” Before dinner each night, I sipped a glass of Cabernet and settled into laid-back conversation with friends.

When I returned home, my chiropractor noticed my miraculous, post-accident progress. “It must be the vitamin D,” he quipped. “You were probably deficient.”

“You're probably right,” I replied. I cracked a half-smile when I thought about my Not-So-Big state of mind and the Lone Star slogan, “Everything's bigger in Texas.” Wink, wink.

Morning baptism

photo courtesy of Flickr's Creative Commons

--post by Jennifer Irsfeld James

News reports invade my dreams at too early an hour. A nudge from the other side of the bed encourages me to swat the snooze button. Nine minutes later a loving shove shoos the night owl from her roost.

Brain and body whine for more sleep as I strip down and suit up. I’m headed for holy water: a pool in a school basement where regular immersions stretch and strengthen both muscle and mind. The coached workouts leave me refreshed more so than an extra hour of sleep, but the delayed satisfaction requires discipline.

On the pool deck, I tug on cap and goggles. After a quick glance at the warm-up, I spring forth in a shallow dive and meet the chill with an involuntary underwater yelp. Eventually speed evades the cold: I skim the surface as soaring gull and powerful porpoise until lactic acid builds in my muscles and begins its slow burn.

I take the workout sets one at a time, to stay focused and in the moment. “Participate, don’t anticipate,” sings out one morning-glory fellow swimmer. How wise: Unburdened by future concerns, I swim faster and freer as I push my threshold in speed drills and distance swims.

The intense concentration empties my mind of extraneous thoughts. I surrender myself to the water, which submerges me in active silence.

Calm, centered, and breathing hard, I churn the water with high elbows. Kick strong. Flip at the walls. Grab life-affirming air. Exhale all else.

This is how I meditate as I swim. Regular practice helps me in and out of the pool to let go of multitasking, ruminating, and rehashing. When I can quiet my chattering thoughts, I open myself to clarity, inspiration, and spiritual insight.

After my final lap, I climb out, steadying myself on solid ground. I’m weary, yet buzzing with gratitude. Thanks be to God.

Embrace all of it

A little more than six weeks ago, I was involved in a car accident that nearly took my life. That experience left me navigating a very troubling paradox. I was grateful to be alive, but I was also ungrateful to be alive (mind-body recovery, replacing the wrecked car, etc.). I became irritated whenever someone tried to counterbalance one of my emotions by using the well-meaning phrase, “Oh, but remember. . . .”

Then I focused on "Turn, turn, turn," a classic duet by Judy Collins and Pete Seeger. Thank God, this song's wisdom as found in Ecclesiastes of the Bible allows me to embrace my paradox known as SURVIVAL. And, if I'm honest, this dialectical existence we call LIFE ON EARTH. “For everything, there is a season. . . “

What seasons are you navigating? Tell me that story. . . leave a comment, and I'll respond.

Watch Your Time

 

Click Emergent Task Timerto download the PDF.

David Seah is generous as well as brilliant. His Printable CEO Series works whether you consider yourself a home executive. . . .a corporate executive. . . or something between those two. I'm fighting with time right now. I know it can become my friend, but I'm not ready to shake hands yet.

The Emergent Task Timer has been a great place to start. I'm a person who often gets lost in a project—while the balance of my life inches toward chaos one day at a time. I'm using the printable sheet to take my “temperature” and realistically figure out where my time is going each day.

This morning, I woke up eager to get going on this week's writing project, which happens to have a Wednesday noon deadline. As I emerged from morning meditation at 8 a.m., I received phone calls a few minutes apart from two different people. Each wanted to download swirling thoughts and sort them out. I took out time to do that because both relationships are important to me, but my Wednesday writing deadline didn't move. Now, I'm starting my project at 9 a.m. rather than the intended 8 a.m., so I'll have to choose to give up something else later today.

Hmmm. . . wonder what that will be?

It's about time!

photo courtesty of Flickr's Creative Commons and ali edwards

Why do I have a love-hate relationship with calendars and day-planners? Danielle La Porte offers an answer on Leo Baubata's zenhabits. What I really want is to feel calm and connected—with family, friends, work, self, and the world out there.

She tells me to identify core areas that are important to me in life, so my calendar respects them. I sorted through Oprah's Best Life categories and checked for ideas in Julie Morgenstern's Time Management from the Inside Out. Finally, I sat down to a cup of java with Jen James, my friend and blogging partner.

An hour [and lots of doodling and chatting] later, we landed on our Top Six:

• Work

• Relationships

• Wellness

• Surroundings

• Finances & Possessions

• Spirituality

Honestly, what really bogs me down is the truth a calendar tells. My right-brain self gets emotional hives just thinking about boxes, check lists and “shoulds.” My neck feels tense as I consider all the space occupied by the word “Work.” But, Danielle suggests I de-stress by finding a way to be as balanced as I can be—while I'm at work. . . as well as in the other areas of life. Good point. I want to experience simplicity, connectedness, freedom, and creativity wherever I am. Interesting.

I might even be able to look at a calendar that lets me do that. I'll mess around with that tomorrow.

What are your Top Six? Leave us a comment. . . and your favorite links.

Testing, testing. . . 1, 2, 3

    

photo courtesy of Flicker's Creative Commons and suneko

Satisfied with your silhouette? Just how much of a perfectionist are you? Check out this article from "How to Be Happy Without Being Perfect" and the featured quiz.

"Good news," says Alice Domar, "is that a few simple changes can transform feelings of failure into that elusive sensation of success."

Check out the micromovement ideas on our January 19 post. What small change gave you a boost today?  

Perfectly cluttered

 

photo courtesy of Flickr's Creative Commons and thunderchild5

--post by Jennifer Irsfeld James

Some households have a junk drawer in the kitchen. At my house, nearly every drawer is a catchall for delayed decisions: the semi-important, potentially historic, almost useful, or broken-but-possibly-repairable.

I yearn to purge the excess, but often feel too overwhelmed to take action. At the root, I fear making a mistake—an imperfect decision.

But the slog of clutter is getting to be a real problem. Yesterday I couldn't find the extra digital TV converter box coupon I had promised a friend. I knew I had it tucked away in a safe place,  somewhere. . .

That dilemma brought me to a new book Be Happy Without Being Perfect: How to Break Free from the Perfection Deception, by Alice D. Domar, Ph.D., and Alice Lesch Kelly. Reading about how perfectionism smothers and stifles, both in the words of Domar, a practicing
psychologist, and more than fifty of her patients interviewed in the book, is helping free me from perfectionist paralysis.

My favorite chapter, "Stop Agonizing Over Decisions," offers several tools I've been testing:

• Visualize living with a decision. (How will I feel in a year or even a decade about letting go of a particular piece of children's artwork?)
• Use a decision-making tree to discover hidden fears. (If I give away an antique porcelain box my grandmother gave me, she might find out and be disappointed or angry.)
• Challenge distorted, black-and-white thinking, such as "should" statements. (When I think "It's rude of me not to keep all gifts I receive," I can tell myself "Gifts are given to me to use as I choose, so it's perfectly acceptable for me to donate or share gifts that I cannot use.")

So how's it working? This time, I found the missing coupon after an hour of de-cluttering! But even if I hadn't, I'd still celebrate a bulging bag of recycled stuff and a donation box piled high. Many small decisions decisively made.

 

Don't organize it. . . shed it!

Julie Morgenstern, the most practical organizer I know, says when we're trying to get to a new place in our lives, we don't need to organize. We need to shed! "Release the old things that are no longer relevant to make room for the new to come in." That's how we gain the energy to let the new come in.

Thanks, Julie! That would explain why I felt so free after I plopped my old high school teacher files into the recycling bin. I became more committed to this freelance writing and speaking gig. Oh, yeh. . .keep doing it!

They lived with their eyes open

 

photo by Deborah Jansen

How humbling and beautiful it was to sit at the base of Chimney Rock, near Pagosa Springs, Colorado. Sitting there, I became fully aware that people who lived centuries before me were probably more attentive to the world than I am. The ancestral Pueblo people didn't have modern knowledge, but they had the gift of observation and silence. That led them to notice this rock formation, which helped them live with the rhythm of life. When the sun and the moon were framed where the rock's shadowy notch fell close to the horizon, that coincided with spring and fall. That discovery led them to understand when it was time to plant and harvest. They held a celebration for both seasons on the plateau near this rock. A flute song may have floated on the wind like the one I heard from Charles Martinez, a man who crafts and plays flutes in the Native American tradition. Beautiful. . . .

What am I observing today—in a big-picture kind of way? What or who am I called to truly see?

Let micromovements change your life

  

photo courtesy of Flickr's Creative Commons 

Rather than plunge into improving our lives with the wrath of Brunhilda, choose micromovements --something personal, such as those suggested by Planet SARK , or global as suggested in the Small Act Network. And. . .share your ideas with friends. Like us.

My friend Jen and I discovered when we created our own incremental changes in small blocks of time, lightness started to become a state of mind. . . rather than a number on the scale or a deluge of perfect expectations. Think in terms of 7 minutes. Be gentle, but effective. Pick a few areas of your life, and let us know what worked for you. We need inspiration too. Let it go. . . .

• Want to lose weight? Grab 7 fresh strawberries instead of a cookie.

• Want to get in better shape? Walk for 7 minutes at lunch hour. (Option: partner with a friend.)

• Want to improve your mind and your career? Skim 1 magazine article or online story. (Check out Suite 101 for lots of short, practical articles.)

• Want to make space for spirituality? Take 7 deep, slow breaths and meditate on a simple, focused phrase---several times a day.

• Want to increase your generosity? Give away 1 item today--book, music, magazines, shirt, etc. or . . . collect 1 item each day of the week and put it in a bag. Bring it to the thrift store on Saturday.

• Want to reduce clutter? Get rid of 1 box of stuff you're not using (such as college lecture notes or inactive client files).

• Want better relationships? Spend 7 extra minutes really listening to someone.

• Want to be more effective professionally? Choose 1 simple action to move you closer to one of your top priorities.

What 3 micromovements did you make TODAY?