I said something to my husband and immediately recognized it as sounding pompous. There was a time that I would have chewed on that for a long while. I would have turned it over in my mind, wondering why I said such a thing. Self-judgment would have set in. I would have wondered what he thought of me. A virtual rat's nest of thought would have been created in my mind, because it is not my intention to sound pompous and so why did I say that, gosh darn it?!
I have come to see, however,...
Just pondering why it is that I don’t feel compelled to do a thing that I’ve been telling myself I should do. I know that I will eventually do it. Will I later regret not having done the thing now?
So I just placed myself at mortality’s edge, and asked myself, if I was dying, if I knew I was going to die tomorrow, what would I be thinking? Would I be happy and croak with no regrets?
And a thought came forward: I wouldn’t wish that I had done that thing, I would...
Space to allow the unfolding.
Space to feel feelings.
Space to come to a decision on one’s own accord, in a space of neutrality.
Nurturing, open, inviting.
Limitless potential. The offering of space.
Sometimes, I squash the space. Fill it with thoughts. Then, the thoughts influence, call forth, or magnetize, a response from the person with whom I am conversing, or from the situation I am experiencing.
For example, when my daughter was applying to high...
I loved watching Game of Thrones. When the series ended, I felt sad. What affected me wasn’t as much that the show had ended as it was thoughts about a particular character’s fate. I got teary-eyed thinking about it!
Even when I reminded myself that the story and characters were not real, the emotion was still present. That’s what I found so interesting: my inner experience was affected by what I chose to focus on, whether the object of attention was “real”...
I keep talking, despite my daughter’s plea.
“Would you stop?!” she begs.
I persist, rationalizing to myself, I’m the parent, she will benefit by listening to me.
“You’re making me feel sad. You’re making me feel like an idiot!”
Ouch. But I’m on a run, “Well, that’s your doing,” implicitly reminding her that no one can “make” us feel anything.
While the admonishment leaves my lips,...
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