Mindful Moment #50 - Becoming a Beacon

Hold the Lantern High

Today, I’m going to wake up early and take my kid to school. I’m going to have coffee and do the Wordle. I am going to work—writing and researching—trying to tell compelling stories that will make history sound interesting or mindfulness attainable. I’ll pet the dogs, let them out, let them in, let them back out, let them back in. I’ll go back to pick up my kid, and she’ll tell me about art or music or lunch. I’ll do snack duty, clean the kitchen, squeeze in another hour or two of work, then think about making dinner. I’ll probably get to watch one show “for grown-ups” before bedtime routines begin. I’ll notice the dust bunnies rolling in the hallway, but choose to ignore them. I’ll scroll through social media before nodding off to sleep and starting it all over again tomorrow.

I am so lucky. I should treasure these days of apparent normalcy. I should maintain a sense of gratitude for the simplicity of it all. For the opportunities afforded me. For the education I received that makes this reality something I now get to have. For the things I was given based on no merit of my own. It is a nice little nest to exist in. I am grateful. Truly.
I feel like I am not doing enough, though. I am not doing enough as a member of society. I am not doing my civic duty if I am not working for something to better my community. I am actually slogging along through the motions, stuck with a brain cloud raining on my mental capacity, paralyzed with middle age comfortability. Don’t rock the boat, Amy. Don’t get in trouble. Don’t do anything rash.

But I need to write something tonight to “do something.” Usually, I try to bring a little dash of hope to us all after…everything. I keep feeling compelled to try to be bright, cheerful, funny maybe. I think you read this newsletter for some perspective or a brief escape. Maybe you are doing the meditations every week and finding some value in the mindfulness. I hope you are getting something beautiful out of these “moments.”

I feel like a fraud some days, though. I’ve told you about mourning my mom. You all sent very kind words in response. I don’t want to write about politics or the environment or mysterious UFOs getting shot out of the sky or you know…heavy things. I sometimes feel like I’m handing out “tips to survive the insanity” without ever mentioning the insanity. I lean hard on old religious tropes and new age concepts and sometimes things I learned by practicing shamanic journeying. Even that feels fraudulent some days. Who am I but just another middle age mom trying to make it through it another week?

I’ve written about it before in various ways. Perspective. Keeping focused on what is tangibly real around you and remembering that we are the offspring of survivors. I have to remind myself of that nearly every day lately. I have begun asking myself, “How do I survive? How do I make sure my family survives?” It sounds so blown out of proportion over the Wordle, but if you feel something changing around you, making you feel like you need to move out of the way of something dreadful, something you can’t quite name or see or smell, but you know it’s on the horizon, when do you heed the internal warnings? What will your role be when the world changes under your feet?

My instinct is to remain steadfast—at least for now. Don’t do anything rash. Abide. Pull from that inner well and draw up some light. Hold the light. What else can one little human do if not uphold the light? Especially if I have been working so hard to keep it lit and bright. Especially if we could join together in holding all of our lights up. We can bring more light if we put it forth as our intention. We can see each other better. We can light up the darkness. We can bring hope and joy and steadfastness. We can bring faith and grace and peace.

Right? I want to believe this is true with every fiber of my being.

I am offering you a creed this week. I hope it draws forth the kind of light we need to abide.

Creed for Carrying Light

As the morning sunrise brings the light,
Allow me to absorb the sun’s rays,
Warming my heart
Binding to my bones
The energy electric in my fingers.

As the earth wakes and begins to hum,
The creatures of the land and sea
Stir or settle, sing or sleep,
And I am with them, rising
Deciding how to exist today.

Today I will shine like a sun.
Today I will gleam like gold.
May my eyes be lit with joy,
May my countenance be calm with peace,
May my voice soar with truth.

May all the lights we carry within
Become steadfast points of existence
As guideposts and lanterns, showing the way,
Disarming the darkness
With ease and readiness.

Today I will shine like a sun.
Today I will gleam like gold.
May my heart beat with grace,
May my mind sustain hope,
May my soul sing the sacred song.

As always, my friends, I wish you all of the joy and peace and happiness!
Namaste

Amy

INSPIRATIONS THIS WEEK

We’re feeling inspired by these incredible and thought provoking pieces:

Sense of smell linked to speed of brain loss and cognitive declineStudy finds associations between ability to identify smells with rates of brain volume loss and cognitive decline and dementia.
As You Grieve, Your Brain Redraws Its Neural MapNeuroscience offers useful, comforting insights on grieving a beloved.
How To Communicate In A Relationship, According To ExpertsCommunication doesn’t always come easy, whether it’s with a romantic partner or someone else. But it’s key to the overall success and sustainability of such partnerships.

That’s all for today, y’all – remember, taking time to focus on you is an act of love.

We hope you found this helpful – don’t hesitate to reply with any feedback on how we can improve future Mindful Moments! We can’t wait to hear from you.