New decade, new vision
The year’s taken off at full speed, ready or not. With bushfires raging across Australia on an unprecedented scale, it’s been a scary and unsettling beginning to the decade. But then, the love in action of people around the country and the globe coming together to help the families and wildlife affected buoyed my spirits.
With the bumpy, emotional ride into 2020, my perspective shifted. Rather than set specific goals, I clarified what really matters to me. On these practices I wish to focus:
resting
connecting with myself and others respectfully and lovingly
bringing my presence to the moment
being vulnerable
enjoying life.
Resting
At the end of 2019, I was taken ill. Instead of wrapping up the working year and socialising as planned, 10 days of enforced bed-rest ensued.
I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, and it scared me. I realised I’ve been ignoring signs to break habits that’ve been incrementally damaging me.
For not the first time, the doctor said I need rest. This time, I had no choice but to take her advice. But how do you rest? What does that mean?
‘For fast-acting relief, try slowing down.’ Lily Tomlin
The first few days, I watched television (and rediscovered the meditative effect of Delia Smith cooking; her precision is impeccable), listened to podcasts, got the washing done, hauled my bones round the block for a daily walk. I had an inkling this wasn’t resting.
On day 7, I challenged myself to finish an entire cup of tea, uninterrupted – no headphones in, no screen time, no doing something else at the same time. Just sit there and sip. Easy, right? That’s what I thought. I meditate regularly, so I figured this’d be a cinch. Turns out, it was bloody hard.
But as I stared out the window, cup in hand, my breath deepened, it occurred to me I wouldn’t always feel this weak, I tuned into the bird song I delight in each morning on waking, blew kisses to the trees in the garden, gave thanks for the darling friends who’d delivered supplies to my house and were checking in on me daily. It felt good. I felt good. This simple act seemed essential to my wellbeing.
Undergoing such moments of stillness has gradually got easier. I am building rest into my life so I don’t need to be sternly reminded to do it by a medical professional, or wait till my body forces me into it.
Making time for tea, December 2019.
Connecting with myself and others respectfully and lovingly
The sky-high expectations I set myself have been all but unachievable, often leaving me feeling not good enough as a friend, sister, daughter, lover. I then trawl over missed opportunities, tormenting myself with the futile practice of what I could’ve done better.
To break free of this habit, I am practising treating myself the way I would a baby; that is, with deep love, compassion and kindness. If I wouldn’t say it to a baby, I am not to say it to myself.
By first connecting with myself, I am much better placed to more sincerely connect with others. I’m learning to bring myself as I am, even if that’s feeling a bit low-energy or discombobulated. It’s outside my comfort zone, but isn’t it better to be honest about how I’m feeling than pretending everything is fine? Sometimes I haven’t a clue what I’m doing. But that’s okay. That’s part of the human experience. Denying that, pressuring myself to bring my most ‘together’ self to others, has been exhausting and kept me from being vulnerable and connecting with others as deeply as I’d like to.
This is a grand shift. Baby steps, ever forward.
Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. St Kilda sunset, November 2019.
Bringing my presence to the moment
When my mind runs wildly off into some imagined future scenario, or tangles itself up in a situation long since passed, what to do? Stop, and breathe, and in that moment of pause, notice my surroundings. What can I see? Hear? Smell? Touch? Sense?
This simple practice brings me back into my body, to the only moment that matters: now. It allows me to breathe more deeply, nice and low down into the diaphragm, drop my shoulders, loosen my jaw, feel the tension melt away. I remember I needn’t worry about a thing. The instant calm it brings. Thank you. More, please.
Being vulnerable
I’m a master of being private, keeping my distance, not speaking up when something’s bothering me. I’ve had a fair bit of feedback about this over recent years, and have been assured people can take it if I open up truthfully. But it makes me feel so vulnerable, exposed, open to rejection, embarrassment, judgement.
Being vulnerable is something we all find difficult. When I have allowed myself to be vulnerable, deep has been the connection. I trust there’ll be more opportunities to practise this one, and I welcome them.
Enjoying life
In my happy place. St Kilda Botanic Gardens, November 2019. Photo by Karen Tait.
Pre-forties, I never really thought about death. Now, I think of it so often, it’s getting to be a joke. I might’ve passed the halfway mark of my allotted time. Cue panic mode!
When I moved to Melbourne, I promised myself I’d say yes to all invitations and be bold and ask people I liked to hang out. This proved a most excellent conviction. In came the wonderful people I now call friends, my second family, who’ve been there for me in the up times and down, and who allow me to be there for them. I’ve had such fun and adventures along the way.
The darling little people in my life remind me of the sheer delight of living and laughing, playing and being present.
Maybe I have passed the halfway mark. Why dwell on that if it robs me of enjoying life while I still have it? None of us knows how long we’ve got. Cue milking the joy available now!
The pleasure of sensation, the stimulation of good conversation, the soulful nourishment of being in nature, the little things that are really the big things – like when my baby nephew smiles at me or my niece runs into my arms. All these moments make life so delicious. Yes, please, more please, thank you.
May 2020 and the unfolding decade bring clarity, playtime, laughter and whatever your precious heart desires.
Thank you for reading.