Can you remember your first real friend? I recently found a picture of mine and the memories that had been tucked away with that lost photo filled with me joy. Friendship is one of the greatest gifts of life. If our friendships bring us so much joy, just imagine how good it could be to become our own friend! Plus when we figure out how to befriend ourselves, we're able to be an even better friend to our friends. It's a win-win!
We have a lot of experience living with adult kids. Though none of us would have chosen to be roommates, none of us would trade this time together either. I've learned through my practice that equanimity can not only get you through a lot of discomfort, but it can reveal glimmers of goodness as you do. Though living well with our kids again has taken some effort, we have shared treasured moments that we would never have had otherwise.
At endings such as graduations we feel like we have to know what's next. The reality is that the only thing we can be certain about is that the future is never certain. Rather than being daunting, this can inspire us to live with a sense of curiosity and wonder about all the twists and turns the marvelous story that is our lives could take!
I recently turned 59. Realizing that my last 3 years-that-ended-with-nine contained significant life milestones caused me to panic for a second. Then I thought, "What if enjoying being 59 is enough? That way this will be a darn good year no matter what does or does not happen."
I've always been in awe of people who can fix things and make things. Until this week IKEA shelves were the extent of my handy-ness. But now I know how to use an orbital sander and - it surprises me as I bet it will surprise you - I have brand new mindfulness practice to help keep me in the present moment.
Is it unfair that my husband feels in the prime of his life while I'm creaking around in an unfamiliar and ancient body? Heck yes. But upon reflection, I'll take it. My body might at times feel like it's 90, but inside I feel 35 - ready to learn, ready to share, ready to soak up the joys of life that are always sparkling within “the rest of it” – and that is really all that matters.
My first real trip was a sprint through Europe. I've learned over time that a more leisurely pace allows my travels to change me - which is all to say that the old adage might be right. It's not the destination but the journey itself that matters.
I hate messing up. I hate it even more when I "get caught" making a mistake. I hate it most of all when my mistakes splash on others. Yet making mistakes seems to be an essential part of the human journey. In fact, mistakes are not obstacles on our journey to becoming good people. They ARE the journey to becoming better people.
My daughter planned a ski weekend for her birthday and we were thrilled to be invited. Yet I wimped out and chose not to go skiing. When I made my choice, I thought my fear of falling and hurting myself was keeping me safe - but it was really holding me back. Now that I understand this, I have to figure out how to choose differently next time.