How easy it is to get bogged down in the “what if’s”, to perceive experiences as negative, missed opportunities, or wasted efforts.
What if…instead we believed, truly, down to the core, that everything that happens — even all of these things that seem like mistakes, chances gone by, and dead ends — happens just as intended?
What if…instead of making New Year’s resolutions, we simply resolve to maintain resolve? Facing each moment with openness, acceptance, and love?
What if…instead of holding onto expectations and outcomes, we could see each day as a shiny, unwrapped gift, reveling in the thrill and wonder of that moment?
What if…it is all unfolding precisely as it should; every botch, bobble, and blunder just the next step in the great adventure known as YOU?
As a child, falling snowflakes and snow-covered landscapes meant a break from the routine, a chance to play in a different way, no cars rushing by, no one in a hurry to get anywhere, a chance to sip cocoa and enjoy meals together as a family because no matter who you were surrounded by they became family in a snow storm.
At some point we “grow up”. Snow becomes a nuisance, a hindrance from work, a blockade to accomplishing life. The critical plans for what we believe is the great work of our life come to a screeching halt and everything is all messed up, or so it seems at the time.
For as long as I can remember, I have always been drawn to life at the beach – to live someplace warm, where folks saunter around in flip flops or squish their toes in the sand as they stroll the beaches in quiet reflection, where the pace of life is slower, where by nature time pauses so that you can notice simple surroundings, breathe a little deeper, and reflect more on thoughts and actions.
Life seems so much more in the moment at the beach and maybe that is why I am drawn to it — sparkling water lapping up on the shore, warm sand reminding me to press down through the souls of my feet and feel the earth. Life seems to slow down to a gelatinous bubbling, like the colors floating in a lava lamp.
Oh, how different life at the beach is compared to the hustle and bustle of a big city — that is, until a big snow storm hits. When the snow comes, it is as if Mother Nature is saying, “Come on folks, slow it down!” Have you ever noticed how blankets of snow on hillsides are remarkably similar looking to dunes of sand? The sensation of snow crunching under the boots creates that earthly connection with your feet. Feel the snowflakes splash on your cheeks, like the surf curling up on your toes.
There is rarely a more peaceful and beautiful time than when snow is softly falling. Everything slows down. Branches stand in stillness as snow gathers at their edges. Animals tuck into nooks in tree bases, napping all snuggled together. Snow brings quiet reflection, contemplative movement, an invitation from Mother Nature to slow down, notice simple surroundings, breathe a little deeper, and reflect more on thoughts and actions.
So, the next time the snow begins to fall and seems to be getting in the way of the greatness you had planned for your day, perhaps it is simply an invitation to pause, go inside instead of outside, and allow a new greatness, perhaps your true greatness, to surface from within.
So whether it’s snow in your boots or sand in your toes, slowing down to notice it may bring the perfect opportunity to experience life a little more fully.
We all remember growing up. The first time we twirled or rolled so much that laughter, interlaced with a smidgeon of fear, burst from within us as the world spun around uncontrollably and the mind tucked away a note to maybe spin a little less next time. We sampled the roles of mommy or daddy, worker, leader, follower, and friend as we played dress up together or joined in team games on the playground. We dropped objects from tables, stairwells, and out car windows with genuine awe as the mysteries of how these things worked unfolded before our very eyes. We spontaneously erupted in play, as we naturally found new ways to move the body, new ways to see the world, new ways to feel connected with it all.
When children engage in play, they engage in an adventurous journey through the unknown. Play allows you to take chances, to explore edges, to uncover workings of the physical body, subtleties in social and emotional dynamics, expressions of creativity, and to conduct investigations and form solutions through active problem solving. Play is the foundation of learning. Play is critical for growth. Play is an essential element in the development of a bright, well-rounded, well-adjusted person.
Why then do we limit play to children? Why, as they grow older, do we discourage children from going to this natural place of curiosity, wonder, and learning? Why, when we become adults, does play disappear?
While there may be a question about whether you can form new neuron synapses or the brain can improve its functionality after a certain age, there is no question that play, at any age, provides an opportunity for exploration, sensation, and learning.
So, grab your neighbor’s hand and go run through that pile of leaves in the middle of the yard, or roll down that grassy hill, or scoop up some snow or sand and build with it. Dip your fingers in paint and slide them across an empty canvas. Lie on your back, grab your feet and roll from side to side like a happy baby. Smile, laugh, and dig deep down into your inner child and let it shine in the wonder, curiosity, and learning of play.
If you’re worried about what other folks may think as you get silly, serious, loud, or creative in your play, invite them to join in. Free yourself and others from the misperception that there is no room in adulthood for play. Engaging in play could be the best thing to keep you agile in mind, body, and spirit and ensure a lifetime full of curiosity, wonder, and awe. Imagine what you might not discover, what you might not feel, what you might not learn, who you might not become if you never played.
Play is the work of children…and of healthy adults too.
When flying with small children or those requiring special assistance, you notice right away that flight attendants suggest that in an emergency oxygen masks will dispatch from the cabin overhead and that you are supposed to secure your oxygen mask first before assisting others.
What? Help myself first and THEN others? Seems pretty selfish, down right rude, and certainly contrary to maintaining a generous spirit. Should I really tend to my needs first?
Whether raising children, caring for loved ones, supporting colleagues at work, or just moving through life, others are always relying on us. We are no good to anyone if we are running ourselves ragged, neglecting to care for ourselves, or giving until we are all tapped out. What if we engage in self-FILLED service instead of self-LESS service? What if we were to keep ourselves strong, healthy, vibrant and full, so that we can be there for those who need us when they need us most?
So, maybe that flight attendant was right. To best serve those in need, maybe I do need to put on my oxygen mask first. Maybe I need to get my own oxygen flowing first before I can help others with theirs.
On your Boeing 737 lifecraft, don’t let the voice of that very wise flight attendant be drowned out by engine noise. Know the information on the safety card, and, whatever else you do, be sure to secure your oxygen mask before assisting others with theirs.
Monday Mindfulness 