Chapter 1
This Present Moment
Breathing in, I calm my body.
Breathing out, I
smile.
Dwelling in the
present moment
I know this is a
wonderful moment.
-- Thich Nhat Hanh
“Maybe you’re
overthinking this." Our usually affable real estate agent had
grown restive, hoping for a contract signing on a rustic Sedona residence Louis and I had found. We'd been looking for over two years and wanted this to be the one because we loved its southwestern ambience, the beautiful saltillo tile floors, its swell little fireplace
and the huge wall of northern exposure windows with red rock views. Our agent was right but for now overthinking was probably the best thing we could have done. Shifting into high gear, we went into a veritable analytical frenzy as we went back and forth for a week, tossing around the pros and cons of the house. The quaint white
stucco charmer had great bones, a nice floorplan and a good location but would need many thousands of dollars in updating, renovation and landscaping. We wrestled with whether this was something we were prepared for as we ushered in our second half of life.
After a spirited discussion, when we ended up deciding against the charmer the relief was palpable. We had come to realize the sweet old house was something we'd have been happy with twenty years ago, but it didn't reflect at all the life we hoped to embrace or the people we wanted to become at this stage of life. Louis told me he was happy he’d married someone with a penchant for overthinking. I told him I was glad I'd married someone who knew how to fix things around the house. I was thoughty and he was practical so those endearments made us even in some odd way. We continued looking for a place that fit who and what we’d become, two post-sixty five years old people of relatively modest but sufficient means who wanted to cultivate a more conscious and contemplative life by reconnecting with a vision we'd had in our twenties. Creative souls at heart, we'd taken a detour many years ago and were now finding the road back to meet our muse.
From the outset we'd known the new home should reflect whre we wanted to put our resources now. It would would be the refuge we wished to have as we grew older and, we hoped, wiser. In this context and at this stage of life a house was not just shelter, it was a symbolic container for anything we might end up keeping from our past and everything we hoped to have in the future. It should have kept the good bones it began with while holding on to the functional integrity requiring only minimal maintenance. It would have space for a painting studio, meditation and yoga, a writing nook, a garden and room for hosting friends. Of course the bottom line would accommodate our budget and we expected it to conform to our notions of acceptable aesthetic design.
We began house hunting anew and soon found another charmer, smaller than we wanted but arranged so that the space accommodated every single need and want we'd listed. Middle-aged, impeccably maintained, priced well and close enough to the center of town for walkability convenience, it was situated and landscaped so that a sense of privacy and connection to nature was preserved. The tiny back yard was already attractively landscaped and it had a knockout view of Thunder Mountain. in the scheme of things, it was perfect. We made an offer, the contract closed and happily, by choosing a smaller place we'd saved enough so we were able to put in some great saltillo tile floors. The real estate agent, to whom we were obliged for his patience over the years, was deliriously glad the hunt was finally over. So were we.
As we got settled, questions presented themselves about what we should keep, who and what would be coming with us, and how could we best meet and honor our muse. Engaging with the muse, coaxing out the answers unexpectedly became an enjoyable contemplative and creative process in and of itself. The time had passed for overthinking and now, instead of adopting some kind of elaborate logical inquiry to explore things or make more lists as we might have in the past, we simply invited the spirit of creativity and contemplation to inform and shape our path as we moved forward in the present moment.
After a spirited discussion, when we ended up deciding against the charmer the relief was palpable. We had come to realize the sweet old house was something we'd have been happy with twenty years ago, but it didn't reflect at all the life we hoped to embrace or the people we wanted to become at this stage of life. Louis told me he was happy he’d married someone with a penchant for overthinking. I told him I was glad I'd married someone who knew how to fix things around the house. I was thoughty and he was practical so those endearments made us even in some odd way. We continued looking for a place that fit who and what we’d become, two post-sixty five years old people of relatively modest but sufficient means who wanted to cultivate a more conscious and contemplative life by reconnecting with a vision we'd had in our twenties. Creative souls at heart, we'd taken a detour many years ago and were now finding the road back to meet our muse.
From the outset we'd known the new home should reflect whre we wanted to put our resources now. It would would be the refuge we wished to have as we grew older and, we hoped, wiser. In this context and at this stage of life a house was not just shelter, it was a symbolic container for anything we might end up keeping from our past and everything we hoped to have in the future. It should have kept the good bones it began with while holding on to the functional integrity requiring only minimal maintenance. It would have space for a painting studio, meditation and yoga, a writing nook, a garden and room for hosting friends. Of course the bottom line would accommodate our budget and we expected it to conform to our notions of acceptable aesthetic design.
We began house hunting anew and soon found another charmer, smaller than we wanted but arranged so that the space accommodated every single need and want we'd listed. Middle-aged, impeccably maintained, priced well and close enough to the center of town for walkability convenience, it was situated and landscaped so that a sense of privacy and connection to nature was preserved. The tiny back yard was already attractively landscaped and it had a knockout view of Thunder Mountain. in the scheme of things, it was perfect. We made an offer, the contract closed and happily, by choosing a smaller place we'd saved enough so we were able to put in some great saltillo tile floors. The real estate agent, to whom we were obliged for his patience over the years, was deliriously glad the hunt was finally over. So were we.
As we got settled, questions presented themselves about what we should keep, who and what would be coming with us, and how could we best meet and honor our muse. Engaging with the muse, coaxing out the answers unexpectedly became an enjoyable contemplative and creative process in and of itself. The time had passed for overthinking and now, instead of adopting some kind of elaborate logical inquiry to explore things or make more lists as we might have in the past, we simply invited the spirit of creativity and contemplation to inform and shape our path as we moved forward in the present moment.
Meeting Your Muse: In This Present Moment
To smooth out emotional edges and bolster confidence about the choice we'd made to search out the
unfamiliar in the beginning, we looked for opportunities for gardening, hiking, writing, painting, cooking and gardening. We liked moonlight meditations and meandering walks by Oak Creek. There were a couple of good classical and jazz venues to nourish body and soul. But to stay consistently in the present moment we relied on an ancient and abiding set of practices we'd learned to maintain our creative
awakenings and epiphanies. Sages and
seekers across time and place were always intuitively aware of how to do this and modern neuroscience has confirmed that the contemplative processes enabling focus and creativity can be consciously cultivated and practiced by everyone.
One simple method for finding and staying in the present moment is a centering and grounding practice taught by Gestalt Awareness Practice teacher Christine Price. It emphasizes breath and physical sensation by developing a relationship to the ongoing process of breathing in a very conscious measured way that resembles the physical process of opening up and then letting go. Anytime you do this you are creating a personal moment of being present to the moment. This is a practice always available to you, no matter what. Here's how to breathe your way to the present moment.
Slowly, very slowly and very deliberately begin to train yourself so that awareness of breathing is effortless and a consistent touchstone in the changing landscape of your life. Once a day, at the same time every day, simply rest and follow the movement of breathing for 5 minutes. Notice the movement of your breathing throughout the day, maybe just two or three breaths. Sometimes you might stay with the breathing for a minute or more. Begin to train yourself to do this a few times each hour and in as many different circumstances as you can: in the middle of a meeting, talking on the phone, walking down the street, brushing your teeth, driving the car. Anytime you feel confused, tense, excited, scared, happy, stressed or over excited, make a point of noticing a few breaths.If you notice any kind of physical sensation, pain or pleasure, include breath awareness as well.
One simple method for finding and staying in the present moment is a centering and grounding practice taught by Gestalt Awareness Practice teacher Christine Price. It emphasizes breath and physical sensation by developing a relationship to the ongoing process of breathing in a very conscious measured way that resembles the physical process of opening up and then letting go. Anytime you do this you are creating a personal moment of being present to the moment. This is a practice always available to you, no matter what. Here's how to breathe your way to the present moment.
Slowly, very slowly and very deliberately begin to train yourself so that awareness of breathing is effortless and a consistent touchstone in the changing landscape of your life. Once a day, at the same time every day, simply rest and follow the movement of breathing for 5 minutes. Notice the movement of your breathing throughout the day, maybe just two or three breaths. Sometimes you might stay with the breathing for a minute or more. Begin to train yourself to do this a few times each hour and in as many different circumstances as you can: in the middle of a meeting, talking on the phone, walking down the street, brushing your teeth, driving the car. Anytime you feel confused, tense, excited, scared, happy, stressed or over excited, make a point of noticing a few breaths.If you notice any kind of physical sensation, pain or pleasure, include breath awareness as well.
No comments:
Post a Comment