At work and in life, events get cancelled. Meetings, classes, doctor appointments, lunch dates, and soccer games—with regularity, one of these drops from your schedule.
Wilderness
Last weekend, Mark and I camped in the Sylvania Wilderness area. Less than 5% of American land is designated as "wilderness," where human beings are just visitors and nature can be nature. No person-made structures, no motors, no noise. We canoed to our campsite, which is surrounded by old-growth forest.
Tend and Befriend Yourself
I'm deeply grateful for my new career: As a mindfulness teacher, I can’t escape my own crap. I’m continually called out, not by people but by awareness itself. When I prepare a class on self-compassion, I see multiple ways in which I’m harsh or judgmental, and then I choose differently: I practice forgiveness. When the topic is gratitude, I notice many ways that I protect my heart, and then I choose differently: I practice generosity.
Blind Spots
Since mom died, I've tried to practice self-compassion. I need gentleness as I move through grief. I need gentleness as I navigate this unpredictable life. And I thought I was doing just that. Then I attended a 3-day silent meditation retreat and received a clear message: I need sincere love and kindness from within. This insight brought me to tears.
Easing into Silence
When I go on meditation retreat, I often hear some version of these words: "You don't speak forthree whole days? I couldn't do that." It's interesting that not talking is the deal breaker. There are many hard parts of a meditation retreat: judging mind, fear, doubt, and physical discomfort. On retreat, there's no place to hide. I get an honest look at myself and that's difficult territory. But not speaking, that's a gift.