Strange how some days you just feel grumpy, and though you check the calendar, be sure to have the usual breakfast, remember to check your top's not inside out before leaving the house - despite these things all being clear, there's no apparent reason for the dysphoria.
So you have to dig deeper for its roots. *sigh* Bloody subconscious mind - can't it ever go on holidays?
I've figured it out (I think). No, I'm not going to share my very personal bad mood triggers with you - let's just say they touch on primary relationships in my life and some pressure points which were tweaked yesterday :) - but I will share my joy at being able to introspect. It is nice to be able to pinpoint some of the "why" and hence be able to figure out "what next?".
It annoys and amazes me in equal measure, that vast, inaccessible part of our mind we cannot access yet which affects us so deeply. It's like having our own personal ocean which we can dip into, dabble in, but never, ever fully comprehend. It's a treasure trove - the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - the scary story which scintillates and excites. It's awesome, in that word's fullness of meaning.
I am so thankful that I'm human.
Wednesday 16 January 2013
Sunday 6 January 2013
It's over! (Phew)
Well, Australia finally wrapped up the third Test against Sri Lanka in Sydney today - and I heaved a sigh of relief.
I love test cricket; it's the only spectator sport I really follow. However, there's always a sense of relief at the end of a series of tests: those long days of listening to the radio, visualizing the play (and running to the TV when something exciting happens!), getting a feel for the ebb and flow of a game ... all that exhausting mental activity is past. I love my game, but it does deplete me.
Actually, I have an admission to make. This final test defeated me. I was having a little siesta when Mitchell Johnson edged the last single to take Australia to victory. My husband gave me a ball-by-ball description of the final two overs, though, so I feel all "caught up"; and, naturally, Michael Hussey was feted on the evening news: Mr Cricket has left the pitch for the last time.
So that's it for a little while; Australia are playing a series against the West Indies starting later this month, then in June there will be the always-anticipated Ashes series - but for now, I'll have to try and make do with the "white bread" diet of limited over games.
Who knows? I may even attend my first T20 game. Stranger things have happened.
I love test cricket; it's the only spectator sport I really follow. However, there's always a sense of relief at the end of a series of tests: those long days of listening to the radio, visualizing the play (and running to the TV when something exciting happens!), getting a feel for the ebb and flow of a game ... all that exhausting mental activity is past. I love my game, but it does deplete me.
Actually, I have an admission to make. This final test defeated me. I was having a little siesta when Mitchell Johnson edged the last single to take Australia to victory. My husband gave me a ball-by-ball description of the final two overs, though, so I feel all "caught up"; and, naturally, Michael Hussey was feted on the evening news: Mr Cricket has left the pitch for the last time.
So that's it for a little while; Australia are playing a series against the West Indies starting later this month, then in June there will be the always-anticipated Ashes series - but for now, I'll have to try and make do with the "white bread" diet of limited over games.
Who knows? I may even attend my first T20 game. Stranger things have happened.
Wednesday 2 January 2013
Mindful Walking
About ten minutes ago, I was "all in a flap" - suddenly worried about everything on my To Do list, flustering around, moving with little success from one task to another without really achieving anything.
Then I remembered Mindful Walking.
I did a retreat some years ago with a nun who introduced me to this practice. The slow, steady pacing as a form of meditation was novel to me back then, but seemed the perfect solution to bring my mind into focus.
So off came the shoes, and on came the careful placing of one foot before the next, feeling the sensation of each part of the foot making contact with the floor, moving slowly forward, breathing mindfully in and then out with each footfall.
My mind cleared, my priorities became clear, and I returned to my desk ready - and able! - to get some serious work done.
I'll never forget one thing that nun taught me. She said: "A saint is a person who irons while she is ironing. A saint is a person who talks while she is talking. A saint is a person who eats while she is eating." I'm sure she had borrowed these phrases from the Buddhist tradition, where mindful breathing and walking come from, but they have stayed with me ever since.
And now, I must leave you, to be a woman who works while she is working.
Tuesday 1 January 2013
Hiking
Perhaps I should have titled this "walking" but, despite the suburban setting, "hiking" seems the most apt choice.
My husband and I have been on some long walks in the last few days. The quirks of physiology never cease to amuse me, and I love the fact that I seem to get an endorphin high sooner and more intensely than he does! Hmmm ... endorphin rush. Definitely one of my favourite things.
Our first walk was a modest 80 minutes, the first time trekking from my studio on Warrigal Road to home in Mount Waverley. We headed south then turned east along Scotchman's Creek Trail. Apart from some accidental detours (into a golf course, around a lake) it was a very pleasant walk.
This morning's effort was something quite different. Starting from near the top of Wheeler's Hill and heading home, we had hopes that "downhill" would be the key word of the day. We had, to our newly sardonic perspective, a naive belief that we had tackled some steep hills on our previous walk.
I'm a physicist, so I cannot explain how you can begin a walk near what seems to be the highest point between you and the horizon and yet spend so much bloody time walking uphill! (Oh, actually, now I type that sentence, I do see how it can be done ... but that's a topological story for another time.) The path we chose lead us mainly along residential streets, so for someone who's not into real estate, it wasn't all that interesting - though I did see some lovely hedges and excellent species selection in some gardens. This was just as well, because you can solve all the world's problems, map out the future of your friends and family, and still run out of conversation in 100 minutes.
A few missed signs, 1.5 litres of water and 8.61 kilometres later, we were home. We must have been walking a far more efficient line than I'd thought at the time, because when we drove back to pick up my husband's car, the odometer said 7.2 kilometres - and that was along a single-turn, right-angled route.
Well, right now I'm still riding that endorphin rush, but need to be solicitous of my poor suffering partner. Perhaps I'll helpfully suggest some stretches. Yeah, that'll go down well ...
My husband and I have been on some long walks in the last few days. The quirks of physiology never cease to amuse me, and I love the fact that I seem to get an endorphin high sooner and more intensely than he does! Hmmm ... endorphin rush. Definitely one of my favourite things.
Our first walk was a modest 80 minutes, the first time trekking from my studio on Warrigal Road to home in Mount Waverley. We headed south then turned east along Scotchman's Creek Trail. Apart from some accidental detours (into a golf course, around a lake) it was a very pleasant walk.
This morning's effort was something quite different. Starting from near the top of Wheeler's Hill and heading home, we had hopes that "downhill" would be the key word of the day. We had, to our newly sardonic perspective, a naive belief that we had tackled some steep hills on our previous walk.
I'm a physicist, so I cannot explain how you can begin a walk near what seems to be the highest point between you and the horizon and yet spend so much bloody time walking uphill! (Oh, actually, now I type that sentence, I do see how it can be done ... but that's a topological story for another time.) The path we chose lead us mainly along residential streets, so for someone who's not into real estate, it wasn't all that interesting - though I did see some lovely hedges and excellent species selection in some gardens. This was just as well, because you can solve all the world's problems, map out the future of your friends and family, and still run out of conversation in 100 minutes.
A few missed signs, 1.5 litres of water and 8.61 kilometres later, we were home. We must have been walking a far more efficient line than I'd thought at the time, because when we drove back to pick up my husband's car, the odometer said 7.2 kilometres - and that was along a single-turn, right-angled route.
Well, right now I'm still riding that endorphin rush, but need to be solicitous of my poor suffering partner. Perhaps I'll helpfully suggest some stretches. Yeah, that'll go down well ...
2013: Thank God You're Here!
It's New Year's Day, and we've left 2012 behind us, many shaking the dust off our feet as we do so. Today we flip the pages of our calenders, feel the cool breeze of the morning on our feet as we sip our tea ... and hope with a shameful streak of vindictiveness that the neighbour's dog, who didn't enjoy the fireworks last night and remained traumatized for many hours afterwards, has sore vocal chords today.
New Year's Resolution? So far as I'm concerned, they're back in. I went through a phase when I didn't make them, preferring to try and effect lifestyle change over what can so easily become tokenistic short-lived goals; however: they're back, baby! I've been reading Duhigg on habits, Gardiner on changing beliefs, and have a fresh appreciation of the suitability of 1/1 as a launching date for new ventures.
No, I'm not going to air my resolutions in this public space: they're too personal, would reveal too much of what Carey might call my "soft pink underbelly" to indiscriminate scrutiny; but I will say that I've worked hard to prepare for them. I've set goals: one modest, one audacious. My thinking is in the right space. I've set benchmarks to check my progress along the way. I'll also say that I've honed the usual, sometimes lengthy, wishlist down to just two. (Well, two and a little project on the side, another blog, but that's another story.) I even started working towards one of these goals two days early, so I could end it exactly 36 weeks later on my birthday, 1 September.
2012 was not an easy year. No, I don't expect life to be easy, but - as my husband and I reflected over dinner last night - it would be nice if 2013 contained mere bumps along the road, as opposed to the veritable landmines which have disrupted our lives over the last four years. We understand that life will always contain a mix of pleasantness and unpleasantness, and I share the Buddha's teaching that the root of much of our suffering lies within us; however, it would be nice to have the opportunity to practice that teaching amidst less ghastliness than has been our lot recently.
This blog is called "My Favourite Things" but all I've done in this post is ramble on about the turning of the year. What are my favourite things today? The opportunity for a fresh start; the fact that I'm a middle class educated white Australian, making me one of the most fortunate people ever to have lived; and the knowledge that, each year, I know myself more fully.
For these things, I am grateful.
New Year's Resolution? So far as I'm concerned, they're back in. I went through a phase when I didn't make them, preferring to try and effect lifestyle change over what can so easily become tokenistic short-lived goals; however: they're back, baby! I've been reading Duhigg on habits, Gardiner on changing beliefs, and have a fresh appreciation of the suitability of 1/1 as a launching date for new ventures.
No, I'm not going to air my resolutions in this public space: they're too personal, would reveal too much of what Carey might call my "soft pink underbelly" to indiscriminate scrutiny; but I will say that I've worked hard to prepare for them. I've set goals: one modest, one audacious. My thinking is in the right space. I've set benchmarks to check my progress along the way. I'll also say that I've honed the usual, sometimes lengthy, wishlist down to just two. (Well, two and a little project on the side, another blog, but that's another story.) I even started working towards one of these goals two days early, so I could end it exactly 36 weeks later on my birthday, 1 September.
2012 was not an easy year. No, I don't expect life to be easy, but - as my husband and I reflected over dinner last night - it would be nice if 2013 contained mere bumps along the road, as opposed to the veritable landmines which have disrupted our lives over the last four years. We understand that life will always contain a mix of pleasantness and unpleasantness, and I share the Buddha's teaching that the root of much of our suffering lies within us; however, it would be nice to have the opportunity to practice that teaching amidst less ghastliness than has been our lot recently.
This blog is called "My Favourite Things" but all I've done in this post is ramble on about the turning of the year. What are my favourite things today? The opportunity for a fresh start; the fact that I'm a middle class educated white Australian, making me one of the most fortunate people ever to have lived; and the knowledge that, each year, I know myself more fully.
For these things, I am grateful.
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