Mindfulness – Voices in My Head

We Created It, You know.

I stood propped in the corner of an elevator bemoaning my fate. The thought of having to haul myself out into the blazing heat for yet one more day of pavement pounding in search of sales was horrifying. Put me out of my misery. Just shoot me now.

The elevator stopped to pick up Mr. FedEx man. A breath of fresh air, he was. Bright, crisp and clean. How does he do that, I wonder? My reply to his cheery ‘good morning’ was a gloomy “Yes. Well it would be if I didn’t have to go out and walk around inside a furnace all day.

“Well we created it, you know.” Two floors later, the elevator door opened and he vanished as quickly as he appeared. When the door closed a light bulb went on.

Well of course! Late winter had dragged on through May into mid-June. People were yearning for the beautiful, balmy weather of spring. Everywhere I went, I heard the same mantra: “When is it gonna get hot?” The collective cry was heard, and the universe kindly obliged by zapping us from late winter into a brutal, searing heat wave. Zero to a 100 in 30 seconds. This terminal heat wave was sucking the life energy out of people, and creating a negative pall in the air. It was palpable. I felt it every day as I walked into office after office. We were all victims of Mother Nature.

I wondered—if so many were repeating the same “When is it gonna get hot” mantra, could we have created a heat wave with our thoughts? If we change our thoughts, can we change the weather?

I exited the elevator with new enthusiasm and purpose. Out into the blazing heat I went, determined to see what I could do to change the weather—or at the very least change the negative pall that was afflicting those I encountered throughout the day.

I made it a point to visit as many offices as possible that day. I told everyone I met about my elevator encounter and my experiment to see about changing the weather. I parroted Mr. FedEx’s words, quickly followed by the suggestion that if enough of us put our minds to it, perhaps we could create the perfect weather. The suggestion alone was enough to uplift spirits and brighten outlooks.

And guess what? The next morning the world awoke to a beautiful, perfect, clear, bright, glorious spring day. Imagine that.

Last night while trying to drift off to sleep, I thought about Mr. FedEx and my little experiment. I observed my mind as it catapulted from one meaningless thought to another and was reminded once again that I have dominion over my thoughts. It is up to me to decide what to think. What am I creating in my mind?

Imagine the power of thought. Imagine how the world would change if we were all on the same page and using our creative genius to envision a world of love instead of a world of fear. If we are powerful as individuals, imagine how unstoppable we are as a group.

Have you thought about your thoughts lately?

Can you think of a time when a belief or thought became a reality for you? I would love to hear about it in the comments section. Thank you for reading, and please share!

Push the Better Button

I always want to be better.

A better friend, a better person, a better being.

I always want to be better at one thing or another,

less focused on ego, less self-serving, less personality.

Clean out the clutter in my head, my closets, my computer.

Claim focus and clarity as my own, take better care of myself and

listen for the sound of the still small voice within.

Listen, hear, do.

I look back at where I once was and where I am no longer,

a heavy smoker, a lover of wine, an overeater.

I marvel that those vices that once gripped me have somehow

magically departed my life without any help from me.

Decades of overindulgence were not healed on my own,

for clearly I have proven myself incapable of such

transformation when left to my own devices.

Somewhere buried deep within, we all have a Better Button,

inactive until that moment when we realize that

we are incapable of healing ourselves of the trials and

tribulations we face as humans on a journey toward wholeness.

There is an invisible button, ever available in times when we might lose

ourselves in frustration over uncontrollable urges that threaten

peace of mind, or in times of self-judgment,

when we think of ourselves as less than we truly are,

in times when better seems an utter impossibility.

My Better Button has a name—it is called Willingness.

It is the miraculous ingredient that clears the way to effortless effort,

the magical, mysterious key that unlocks the door to transformation,

to the healing we cannot do alone, when there is nowhere else to turn.

Without true willingness, hope fades into oblivion.

Cigarettes, wine and overeating were once my best friends.

I had to be willing to let them go, to release my attachment.

I had to be willing to be willing to be willing.

One by one, each willing disappeared until there was only one left.

Then the miracle of transformation happened.

All it took was a Better Button and a little willingness.

Just imagine how a bit of both, a touch of faith and

and a lot of love might heal the world.

Just Say Yes

In the early days of the pandemic, I received a call from a friend asking me how I was, and what I was doing for kicks. It made me smile, and then wonder what I was doing for kicks. What does anyone do for kicks in the midst of a pandemic?

Well, for one thing, instead of watching the news, I binged on old reruns of Say Yes to the Dress because in today’s world of darkness and fear, I wanted to focus on something that brings happiness, both to myself and others. Watching a bride find her perfect wedding dress is enough to warm my heart and put the icing, roses, and topper on my cake.

As Covid begins to wind down, I still try to be mindful of what thoughts may be lurking somewhere in my head—thoughts that have the potential to disturb my peace of mind—fearful, worrisome thoughts that make me want to escape into zone-out mode to insulate myself from this scary world.

To take my mind off of the things that I don’t want to think about, I try to focus on what needs to be done. I do whatever I can to help me keep my spirits up, and look beyond the hideous appearance of what is going on in the world—my world and your world, a world that seems to deteriorate moment to moment. I do whatever it takes to divert my attention away from what is distressing, and look for the light side instead. Sometimes I succeed.

Most importantly, perhaps, I choose not to glom onto the opinions of the talking heads who get paid by the powerful and greedy to spin the news into traps of bleakness, designed to scare the bejeepers out of us in a marathon of pumping out news that keeps us in a state of perpetual fear. No thanks. Not for me.

No matter how dreadful things seem, it helps to remind myself that somewhere in all of this there is a silver lining, if only I will look for it. For me, that has come in the form of an increased desire to do whatever I can to help. Hello? Is there a needle in this haystack somewhere? Or maybe a pony in the manure? What in the world can I—little old one-person-me—possibly do that can make a difference, no matter how miniscule, in the midst of this mind-boggling quagmire of apparent hopelessness?

I can say yes. I can say yes to the truth, the beauty and the goodness in the world. I can say yes to the light and no to anything that does not serve to uplift our family of humanity. I can add positivity to the mix, rather than negativity. I can say yes to the belief that the vision of a new world will become manifest, and I can do my best to make that happen by staying focused on doing my part to create the reality of a life lived in peace, harmony, cooperation, and love.

I can, and you can, and together we can make the world a better place for all. When enough of us join in a common purpose of seeking the light, we will find it, and we will march arm in arm into a brand new and glorious world of our own making. Where two or more are gathered. Just say yes.

Note: The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us)

Who Do Voodoo?

If I were a believer in voodoo, I might be inclined to think that somebody is out to get me. Why would I think such a ridiculous thing, one might wonder? Why? Because in a brief moment of fitful thrashing around during an on-again-off-again sleepless night, I had the odd sensation that there was a sharp object of some sort being stuck in my back. Not like a knife, mind you—more like the steady jab of a sturdy hatpin. Hmm. It gave me pause to wonder.

I know virtually nothing about Voudon except that it is an Afro-Caribbean religion that originated in Haiti. Apparently, it has very little to do with zombies or the practice of voodoo on others, and that’s about the extent of my knowledge. I admit to utter ignorance regarding the history, truth, or use of voodoo dolls. Are they a myth? Are they real? Do people really use them to attack others?

Maybe one day I’ll sit down long enough to do some serious investigation into the subject, but not now. Today, I’d rather talk about what the thought of voodoo brought up for me in the midst of my thrash-around night.

Maybe it was a poke in the ribs by my writer muse to provide me with a subject for a blog and urge me to get on with it. Or maybe somebody really does have it in for me and is sending hateful thoughts my way. Really? Who? Why? From how many lifetimes ago? What might I have done to bring on such behavior on the part of another person? The idea that someone would willfully set out to take revenge on another by way of a voodoo attack took me by surprise. I guess my head is still buried in the sand, maybe somewhere in Haiti.

Along with that came the realization that if one wants to attack another, voodoo dolls are not necessary. Attacks need only come from an intentional mind in order to be effective. We are perfectly capable of doing harm with our minds, without the need for hatpins.

This makes me wonder. What are the thoughts that I harbor in my mind about others? How nice am I to someone’s face, while thinking critical or judgmental thoughts? How aware am I of my thought process? How often do I project unkind thoughts about another into the ethers, even if unintentionally? How often might I have knowingly or unknowingly stabbed an unsuspecting victim in the heart with a poison hatpin?

How many times have I stabbed myself in the back with unkind thoughts toward myself? Could it be that the jab I felt last night might have come from me? Am I my own attacker? How safe am I in my own mind? How safe are you in my mind? How safe am I in yours?

My brief sojourn into the unknown world of voodoo has fueled my desire to steer clear of attack regardless of source. It seems to me that if we reap what we sow, I’d better start sowing kind, loving, compassionate thoughts around the universe, because voodoo or no voodoo, our minds are mighty powerful. If what we think is what we get, we’d better get busy and start thinking about the things we’d rather manifest rather than the things that we’d rather not.

Nope. I’ll not start an investigation into voodoo today. What I will do, however, is increase the investigation into the workings of my own mind to suss out and replace with kindness any and all thoughts that have sharp points.

The world would be a lot better off with more kindness in it, don’t you think?

A Little Bit of Willingness

It’s a lovely morning, and my Lazygirl and I are huddled together contemplating the start of a new day. I sit down to meditate and my mind marches me into the kitchen to see what there is to eat. I do that a lot lately. Pretty much since the start of the pandemic lockdown, I think.

Pre-pandemic, I had myself in proper working order; at least I thought I did. I’d conquered my unhealthy, fattening habits like, smoking, drinking too much wine, and overeating. If there is anyone out there who has ever hung out in an “anon” group, you’ll know what I’m talking about. One can abstain from smoking and drinking, but it’s mighty hard to abstain from food.

Well, so anyway, I had it all together with my eating habits. Tiny breakfast, BIG lunch, often at a restaurant, a light graze at dinnertime, and I can still button my skinny jeans. Snatch the restaurant out from under me, add Covid, and well, it’s all over. Suddenly I can’t stay out of the kitchen and I’m wrestling with my corrective jeans. It’s humbling.

Given my extensive past experience in the “anon” world, I should be able to get over this, right?

Oops—wait—I’m shoulding all over myself again. I should be able to get over that too, right? Cheech. It’s always something!

Anyway, I’ve tried my usual tactic of asking my Self for help, but for some reason, breakfast still seeps into my morning meditation, and the kitchen continues to beckon like a shiny gemstone in the sunshine. I have asked—why have I not received?

Slowly it begins to dawn on me that maybe I am low on willingness. Maybe I am too lazy to do what it takes to eat a healthier diet, or too unfocused, or too comfortable with my head in the fridge to be bothered with changing my ways. Or maybe I just really don’t want to make a commitment to change.

By necessity, I’ve moved from restaurant fare to new recipes that I try on myself that are idiot proof and easy; recipes with pasta, recipes that provide easy leftovers for later. Later comes frequently these days—often in the middle of meditation, or while writing a blog. Food beckons, I forage, and eat to satisfy whatever seems to be missing, whether I’m hungry or not. Do I listen to my body? Nah.

Pre-pandemic, I did a lot of self-congratulations for having enough self-discipline to be trusted alone with a with a cheesecake. Then along came Covid and interrupted my routine. I fell off the wall, broke into bits and pieces, and now I have to put myself back together again. Pride goeth before a fall, it is said, and aren’t I just the perfect example of that? So much for the back pats. Again I say, it’s humbling.

One of the lessons that I have learned in my lofty experience of anons and such, is that the success or failure of any desired change begins with willingness. It is wholly dependent on the willingness to be totally and completely free of whatever obstacle stands in the way of happiness, whether it is a cigarette, a glass of wine, a hunk of chocolate cheesecake, or an unforgiven anger. Without willingness, I’m doomed.

Sometimes it isn’t easy to get to true willingness. There were many reasons why I wanted to quit smoking for example. It’s a disgusting habit. It’s unhealthy. It’s expensive. It burns holes in things. My clothes and hair smelled like an ashtray full of stale cigarette butts. It was becoming harder to smoke in public places. My smoker’s cough was frightening. It wasn’t good for my self-esteem

I really wanted to quit, and so I acquiesced and opted for willingness. But didn’t work. If I was willing, why wasn’t it working?

After another round of serious soul searching, I discovered the truth. The bottom line was that I was not truly, truly willing. Yes, I wanted to give up the filthy habit, but the fact was, the part of me that loved to smoke was reluctant. I was focused on what I perceived that I would be losing. I was not totally, completely, wholly, willing to quit smoking. I was my own obstacle.

Then I received a idea from my trusty Voice. It said, “Add a willing.”

So I did. I was willing to be willing. Ah. That helped. Maybe it would be good to add another willing or two, just for good measure. So I became truly willing to be willing to be willing.

About two weeks later, I woke up one morning as a non-smoker. The habit simply let go of me of its own volition and, unlike many unsuccessful attempts in the past, the desire to have “just one” cigarette went up in a puff of smoke and vanished into the ethers, never to return.

A three-pack-a-day smoking habit simply dropped out of my life after thirty-five years. All it took was just a little bit of willingness. Or two.

So now I’ll have to get busy, put my money where my mouth is, and ask myself if I’m really, really willing to remove my head from the fridge. If not, why? What’s in it for me to continue a habit that makes me unhappy—and uncomfortable in my skinny jeans?

Hmm. Am I being ruled by my tastebuds? Am I looking for comfort somewhere outside of myself rather than finding it within? What might be keeping me tripping the light fantastic into the kitchen? I don’t know the answer to those questions right now, but I think it might behoove me to do a little digging to find out. Meanwhile, I’ll work on increasing my willingness.

Here’s a tiny hint about how willingness works—I’m beginning to realize that I don’t feel very swell after one of my unscheduled visits to the feeding trough. It’s a clue. Maybe soon I’ll wake up and realize that I’ll feel a whole lot better if I forego all of those unscheduled trips. Maybe one day soon, I’ll easily zip up my skinny jeans, and discover that I’ve returned to my pre-pandemic size and sanity. Who knows?

Stay tuned. I’ll let you know how I do. Meanwhile, would you care to join me in a bit of willingness?

Armed with Harmlessness

Yesterday was pretty much a wasted day filled with lollygagging, wasting time, and doing not much of anything. On days like that, I have to remind myself that it’s okay to take a day off, to rest, enjoy the benefit of free time, and not guilt myself silly over thinking that I should be doing something that I’m not. Days like that tend to bring out the worst in me and I find myself thinking thoughts that aren’t good for the psyche.

In a recent blog (The Happy Factor) I talked about waking up in a kind of funk brought about by a sadness over the way the world is going these days. Today I must add that sluggish days like yesterday also have an impact upon my place on the Happy Factor scale of one to ten. So, upon recognition of yesterday’s mini-funk, I employed my trusty ask-for-help technique and put in a request for help in rising above my harmful thoughts.

As if on cue, there was an explosion of negativity that went off in my head. It was as if someone stuck a stick of dynamite inside of my subconscious mind, lit the fuse, and pushed the plunger. Whoa. What a blessed blast!

I have recently been invited (or perhaps challenged is a better choice of words) by my spiritual guidance counselors to examine my mind for the purpose of working toward achieving a state of mental harmlessness, selflessness, and right speech. I accepted the invitation, and an entire civilization of negativity that I didn’t know was buried there was excavated from deep within, exposed to the light, and is hanging out waiting for me to decide whether to keep it or get rid of it.

Maybe on some unconscious, mysterious level, we as humanity are also considering the possibility that harmlessness, selflessness and right speech are powerful tools to help us move out of the shadow into the light. Maybe the unbelievably devastating world events have been caused by our collective hidden negativity and have brought forth the desire to allow our dark and ugly parts to be exposed to the light for the purpose of reevaluation and healing. Maybe we are each called to stand up, stand strong, and take responsibility for the thoughts and actions that shape our world, and accept the challenge to set upon a new and improved course of action that will flush out all that stands in the way of finding peace within ourselves and within our world.

Will I accept the challenge to replace harm with harmlessness, self-serving with selflessness, and words of criticism and judgment with words of kindness and love? It all begins with a decision in the mind.

I professed my willingness to accept the challenge. What I received was an avalanche of awareness about the content of my mind, and it wasn’t a very pretty sight. But I’m grateful. Because now that I know what has been lurking beneath the surface, I can decide whether or not to keep it or let it go. Jettisoning negativity guarantees an upgrade on the Happy Factor scale. Every single thought that I have has a ripple effect upon not only myself, but upon my world and everyone in it. If I want to live in a better world, I need to clean up my act.

It’s always good to remind myself that if I need help, I need only ask. Today I am asking to be armed with harmlessness. May I be harmless. May I be selfless. May I be kind in thought, action, and deed. And so may it be.

Food for the Soul

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I just ate an entire bag of spinach and a pile of sliced mushrooms for dinner. It all went into a skillet and looked like a mountain of food—well maybe more like a molehill—but it all sautéed down to about a medium-sized serving of spaghetti and meatballs and not surprisingly, I have overfed myself. Or as my friend likes to say, I am sufficiently suffonsified. Emphasis on the fon. Suf-FON-si-fied.

Clearly, I never miss an opportunity to feed my body, albeit tonight with a rather odd combination of food, courtesy of the sparse contents of the fridge. Healthwise, I guess it beats a burger, fries, and a side of fried mozzarella with a chocolate shake to wash it down. Well, at least I opted for spinach instead of running away from home in search of something greasy and fried. It’s a start . . .

Lately though, I’ve noticed that I’ve been on a bit of a downslide, not doing the things I should, and doing things that I shouldn’t. More zoning out in front of screens, less blogging, for example, and yes, I see that I am shoulding all over myself. I shouldn’t be doing that.

For the past few days I’ve observed myself as I do a backward drift into temptation. Netflix and restaurants have called to say they miss me and threaten to drag me off course and back into old habits that I am working hard to view from the safety of my rear view mirror. I was doing really, really well there for a while, but sometimes it’s a little hard to hear the sound of sanity over the voice of a screaming appetite deprived of satisfaction.

Obviously, I’m totally committed to feeding the vehicle that walks me around and needs to be gassed up now and then to keep itself moving. I’m forever quick to feed the body, but what about the care and feeding of the soul? What good is a body that is full if it walks around with a soul that is empty?

I suspect that my backslide is the direct result of a neglected soul starving for the pleasure of my company. When my commitment slips, when I fail to tend to the needs of my soul, when I take it for granted, or skip meditation, I deprive myself of the enormous benefit of the rich nutrients that lie hidden within.

There is a a vein of gold inside each one of us awaiting discovery. The soul, Self, Higher Self, True Self, whatever one may wish to call it, exists whether we acknowledge it or not. It is a patient, kind, gentle, healing Voice that provides an answer to every question and a solution to every problem, if we will but ask, listen, and follow its wisdom. It exists even when we deny it and walk away, and it welcomes us home when we wake up and return. It is the truest, eternal, and most faithful friend that we will ever have. Feed it well with love, appreciation, and gratitude and it will raise you to heights you never dreamed possible. Wake up and remember.

The Feeding of Bodies and Minds

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I’m not a big fan of having do anything that I don’t want to do. Maybe you know the feeling? Anyway, when I was invited to attend a seminar about nutrition and healthy eating, I balked because I didn’t want to hear somebody tell me what I already knew and refuse to do, but lunch was included, so how could I resist? I figured that I might be choking down some miso and bean sprouts, but oh well.

Much to my surprise and delight, there was a fabulously delicious healthy meal, and nobody stood in my face lecturing me about what I had to stop doing that was wrong, or what I had to start doing that was right. Instead, there was just Elizabeth, handing me a piece of chocolate and teaching me how to eat it mindfully. I liked it (both the chocolate and mindful parts). I expected a lecture; instead, I got candy. What a deal! That says a little about expectations, doesn’t it? Now, when I receive a newsletter from Elizabeth, I open it up, enjoy it, and sometimes even try a recipe. I particularly enjoyed the pumpkin laced spaghetti sauce.

Today I am inspired to share a newsletter that I just received from Elizabeth because it perfectly echoes my philosophy of life, and says in someone else’s words what I’ve been babbling every day since mid-April. Positive thinking and good news always bear repeating, and sometimes it’s helpful to hear it from a new perspective. The topic is nutrition, but the premise reaches beyond the boundaries of healthy eating habits and can be shifted from what we feed our bodies to what we feed our minds. Elizabeth says it well:

“This is one of the most important pieces of advice I can give you to help you reach your nutrition goals:

There is no failure when it comes to nourishing your body—only FEEDBACK.

You simply can’t fail with your healthy eating goals when you adopt this outlook. One bad meal, day, week, or more does not dictate your entire nutrition journey. You cannot give up because you think you “messed up” using this approach.

The true measure of success—along with genuine transformation and lasting results—comes from the ability to get CURIOUS NOT CRITICAL.

The #1 most helpful thing you can do when you feel like you’ve gotten off track, overeaten, made poor food selections, skipped too many workouts, or whatever else your perceived “misstep” may be …is to ditch the crappy self-talk and defeatist thinking in favor of adopting a growth (instead of a fixed) mindset.

This means you need to learn how to ask the right questions… how to listen for the most helpful feedback… and know how to use the information you gather to inform your future food choices.

… go crush your goals!

You’ve got this.”

Yes. You do. Go for it! Thanks Elizabeth.

See more from Elizabeth here.

Seeing What I Do Not See

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Do you remember the old adage, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans.”? God must have had a good chuckle on me today. You’re welcome, God.

It shaped up to be a crooked sort of a day, with unscheduled twists and turns that jiggled whatever vague plans I may have had right out of the picture, including this morning’s blog. For starters, I logged in about five minutes on the meditation bench by the lake before I was jiggled out of my reverie by a phone call announcing a plumbing emergency on the home front. Back home I go to handle said water spout emergency.

Then just as I was ready to hunker down in blog mode with my computer, I was again sidetracked by a phone call from a favorite long-distance friend who found enough time to swing by with her precious jumbo labradoodle for a quick visit and walk. Said labradoodle arrived with a crippling paw problem that frazzled her owner and hobbled the pooch, and so much for the walk. Happily, before they left, we got it all worked out to everyone’s satisfaction in time to have a short visit.

Recently I’ve been reading a lot about unseen helpers—guides, guardian angels, archangels, angels in general, and such—mysterious entities hidden beyond the veil away from the view of mere mortal eyes. I find it all so fascinating that I’ve signed myself up for a course in learning how to develop better communication and connection with spirit guides. The more I read and practice, the more convinced I am that spirit helpers are everywhere. We’re surrounded by them, living in the midst of them, protected by an army of them.

Today, all of my plans and intentions went awry, everything went whacky on all fronts, and yet miraculously, somehow in the end, all of the rough edges were smoothed away and everything worked out perfectly. I guess it doesn’t matter if I have plans or not—apparently whatever plans God has for me are far better than whatever plans I can conjure up on my own. It has turned me into a believer. We have help, we have hope.

Another old adage is the one about a body at rest stays at rest; a body in motion stays in motion; to which I will add, a day amuck stays amuck. I proved me wrong on that last one. The muck disappeared, the water spout ceased spouting, the labradoodle miraculously walked again, and a blog was written.

My most current spirit-guide lesson suggests that I try to increase my awareness of the presence of helpers to see if I can discern the ways in which they assist. Judging by the outcome of today’s jiggles, I think that maybe there really is something to the possibility that Divine Helpers are alive, well, active, and busily at work smoothing out the ragged edges of my days, and indeed, my life.

Often, their work is obvious and clearly, miraculous. It makes me wonder—how much of their work do I not see or know about? How many times have they saved my bacon unbeknownst to me, while I go blithely along my way, utterly ignorant of their behind-the-scenes work on my behalf? I have absolutely no idea, but this much I do know: I’m going to make it my mission to get to know them better and thank them for all miracles both seen and unseen, starting now. So to you, my dear Divine Helpers, angels, guides, guardians, friends, teachers, and masters, my sincere and undying gratitude. Thank you.

Feasts and Fasts

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A couple of days ago—oops—I forgot to write a blog. Yesterday’s was published very late in the day instead of at the beginning, and amazingly enough, I didn’t die from it—I’m still here to tell the tale. Wahoo! In fact, it was rather refreshing to allow myself the luxury of getting up and out of my self-created hot seat to wander around in the sunshine and breathe a little. I successfully said no thank you to the finger-wagging shame-on-you guilt trip that my ego tried to lay on me about copping out on my commitment and away I went. That’s progress, I’d say.

A little aimless meandering once in a while is good for the soul. It is like opening the windows in a dark and stuffy room to allow fresh air and light to flood in and evaporate the gloom, to cleanse, refresh and restore old, worn out thinking that doesn’t’ work anymore, to make room for the new. Sometimes when I’m stuck somewhere in the middle of a conundrum, I take a little time out. When it’s just a writing quagmire, it might be a quick trip to the loo for some bathroom wisdom. A bigger issue, on the other hand, may require an extended period of time that includes complete radio silence.

What I love about a good time out is that it frees me from hearing the noisy voices and opinions of others and provides a moment in which I can hear the quiet wisdom of my own. It gives me precious time to sit, sift and sort through confusion and complexity and decide what is worth keeping, what should be expelled. When the mind and heart are cleared of the dross that clogs insight, resolution springs forth, mental clarity shines through, and peace returns. It’s a place to rest, stop, look, listen, reevaluate, and invite inner wisdom to be the guide. It’s both a spiritual fast and feast all at once. Answers reside in the silence.

Hmm. When I first started writing, I thought that there might be something related to the subjects of compassion, empathy, and sensitivity to others, but for some reason, that thought evaporated along with the gloom that disappears in the light of an open window. Well, maybe tomorrow.

So that’s it for today, folks. For now, I’m going back inside to continue my time out, enjoy the view from my soul, and hang out in radio silence for a while longer. See you tomorrow. I think.