A friend recently talked about expecting miracles. As I listened, I realized that I've gotten out of the habit of even hoping for miracles. Instead, I spend a lot of energy problem-solving problems that don't yet exist to make sure I'll be OK if things get messy. As much as I'd like to be brave enough to expect miracles, I don't think I'm ready (yet). But I do think I could take a deep breath and ask myself, "What if everything works out?"
Over the last 29 years I've had to learn and relearn that my children are my teachers -- and that they're teaching me the most important lessons and challenging lessons of my life.
In Scotland, where the weather can be moody, you learn how relaxing it is to go with the flow. You learn the beauty of savoring what you get to do and not worrying at all about what you don't. I am trying to bring a "wee bit" of this is a mindset home with me.
It can be hard to know what to do for someone who is hurting. Mostly, the right answer is to look for ways to love them. What does compassion like this look like? There are as many answers to this question as there are friendships. Trust that you'll know what to say or do because you love them.
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."
Friends, I am super P.O.'d. The worse part is that I'm not just P.O.'d at the person who upset me. I'm even more P.O.'d with myself for still being so P.O.'d. I would desperately like to stop this "extra," self-inflicted pain and suffering. What am I to do?
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.