You determine the course of your day. Not someone else’s requests, not your email inbox, not your text messages or voicemails. I don’t know why I need to be reminded of this so often but I do.
I recently read that in one single day Facebook users were spending a collective 39,757 years worth of attention on the site, in one single day. This is from a study done in 2014 by the @nytimes. I’d imagine by now it’s even crazier.
My question for myself this week is: what am I paying attention to?
And I don’t want it to be a screen. I’m going to spend time working at the park. Watching our rambunctious little guy run barefoot in the grass. Drinking a matcha and doing nothing else. Dreaming about a future of fresh air and close friends and adventures and seeing the stars every night. That’s what I’m going to pay attention to. Otherwise I’m going to be paying attention to someone else’s life highlights and someone else else’s needs and miss the whole damn thing.
Life since I arrived home has felt a little bit like those moving walkways at the airport. And then there’s moments like this where I can only say “Thank you.”
I scribbled this a few days ago as I sat alone in the window of Esperanza, my favorite lunch spot in Sayulita, after a week of leading a retreat and being in a completely different state of being. I don’t think I realized how much I was carrying until I arrived in Mexico and some of the layers began to peel off.
I truly thought I was “managing” pretty well but in retrospect, I was getting by.
Fifteen months of living with major uncertainty coupled with falling into the deepest love I have ever known had taken its toll. I was scared. Around the clock, gripping, contracted, trying to control.
Not much has changed about my external circumstances and I’m not sure when they will. None of us do. But I have complete choice in what I pay attention to, how I cultivate peace and who I’m being for myself and for the world.
I am peeling it off. Putting it down. I am committed to living lighter.
My intention on this retreat was to not only hold space but wholeheartedly receive whatever I was supposed to.
And receive I have: through this group of vulnerable women, through my Reiki sessions in this beautiful space, through Maca smoothies at Esperanza, through afternoon conversations with my best friend, through sunshine and laughter and surf and tears and tacos.
I’m leaving with this commitment, knowing that it’s true right now: I am worthy, abundant and I trust the timing of my life. I believe in magic and I believe in miracles.
I had my first ever reiki session yesterday afternoon and finally began to peel off some of the tension I’ve been wearing for the past year and a half. I felt a sense of peace I haven’t in years, despite the amount of praying, meditating and chataranga-ing I try to do.
If you are going through a period of darkness, of fear, of anxiety, of loss, know that you are not alone. Life is full of experiences that break our hearts open. Damn, it can be painful. Sometimes I want to lock away these big, scary feelings and throw away the key. Sometimes I do. But I know this: it’s part of the deal of being human. And keeping a broken heart open is how we stay in relationship with life. Impermanence colors everything a more vibrant hue.
I’m trying to reminding myself of this every two minutes and maybe you are too. Sending big love and deep ocean breaths.
My teacher asked me a big question a few days ago, when I was experiencing the deep grip of fear and panic. She said, “How much of your peace is reliant on external circumstances? And how is that working out for you?“.
I am here this week to listen, I’m here to receive the sacred in every deep belly breath of ocean air. I’m ready to carry spaces like this one within me and to cultivate soft places for my heart to land, day in and day out. I’m calling on spaciousness and peace and ease, please. I’ll do the work, I promise, so I’m available to be guided.
This retreat. Right on time, as always.