I TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND LISTENED TO MY HEART.

Berthe Morisot, Two Girls (1894)

Thoughts for the day:

"I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart.  I am, I am, I am," Sylvia Plath (1932-1963). This American poet and author succumbed to depression at age 30, when there were fewer tools to help.  But we can see that she was trying to save herself with her words. Her cry is important. "I am" is a promise, to ourselves and to those who love us. Many years ago, a 19-year-old friend took his own life.  We never forget the first death of someone in our generation.  I wrote in my Diary then, "I am to live."  That helped me to differentiate my emotions from his, which seemed important to me, so young myself.    

Now I know that we can help love ourselves into repair. This is something that happens slowly as we accept our feelings. Think about this:  God gave us each of our feelings and all of our emotions. There is nothing about us that God did not create as part of our humanity.  Nothing about us that we have to suppress, including negative emotions.  Goodness, don't we all feel bad sometimes?  Lonely or misunderstood?  It's not just OK to sit with our emotions; it's best.  We can let whatever is in our heart breathe.  Grief is the most demanding emotion of all.  Fear second.  They have to be felt. 

Being kind to ourselves every day is a requirement of life. This takes many forms, as we know.  For me, I talk to my mother whenever I need to, even though she is no longer alive.  My father did too, because she died 10 years before he did.  When someone has loved us, we keep their memory alive as a comfort or guide.  

I try to honor those anniversaries that are sad as well as happy.  One in particular in my life causes sadness, anger, grief and confusion.  I try to live with that.  In direst times we look for ways to make a tapestry out of the unraveling of life.  We don't want to fear our feelings.   

We want to take a deep breath and listen to our heart. 

THE CYCLE OF LIFE

Fort Macon, Emerald Isle, NC

So, other than ourselves, our bodies, hearts and souls; 

Other than Salvation, the gift of His Son and Life Everlasting; 

Other than love and desire, effervescence and time; 

Other than laughter and bravery and tears; 

Other than my repentance and your forgiveness

Or your regret and mine, 

(Christe Eleison, Christe Eleison, Christe Eleison)

Other than laughter and touching and tears,  

God also gives us Nature.  

How about that?  

Sets us square in the midst of this regal space.

Lightning and lavender and dark swirling skies.

Deep things and old things, rough things or smooth, 

Each thing a process (and so too are we).  

A space that can lift up our traumas and bury our cares.

We live in a metaphor, yes and a world

Actualizing without shame or blame.

A fox or a tree or the rain or the waves; 

Something that skitters you only can hear; 

A hawk big enough to shadow the field; 

The air moist or dry, or colder or close; 

Wind to blow savage and topple a tree; 

The cycle of Life is His gift, 

Our cycle of emotions too.  

Everything coming round and round and round again.

Never an ending once more to begin.

                               Nina Naomi 

WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU'RE SAD

Nothing Is Missing,
You Are Already Whole

The first thing to do when we're sad is to know that's OK.  Things happen that would make anyone sad.  When we're sad, it's for good reason. The second thing is not to fight it.  Fighting with our emotions takes energy and energy is one thing we don't have when we're sad.  But that doesn't mean we have to wallow.  We can move toward equilibrium.

Something that always helps is going outdoors. The weather doesn't matter. Rain, snow, a warm breeze or the sultriness of summer. Nature heals. This is proven.  If you're up to it, run if you're a runner or walk if you're not.  A sit or a lie-down under a tree is fine if stamina is low.  Just feeling the air is enough. You know how good turning your face to the sun feels?  Or savoring the warmth on your back? Or raising your face to the stars?  Today I walked out with Mr. Wiggles (aging black maltipoo) to see the rising sun and the pale last quarter moon was still high. The early morning's disorientation disappeared. 

If you're at the staying-in-my-pajamas stage of sadness, try a shower.  Turn your face to the water.  Let the spray pour over you. Turn round in the heat. Lather up and rinse, or just stand there. Then dry and cream yourself all over with a tender touch and put on clean clothes.  Stay comfy, whatever fits the season.  

Cry.  It's OK to cry in the shower.  It's OK to cry anywhere when we're sad.  Crying also is a proven help. Miraculously, tears shed stress hormones.   Crying releases endorphins, much like running does, and helps restore emotional balance.  It's cathartic, dulls pain, and helps us cope with grief.  Crying, if uncontrollable, also helps us decide when to seek professional help; it can be a handy yardstick. 

Talk to someone.  Being alone in our sadness is sometimes what we want.  People take energy.  But after a time, we'll need company; the loving pet is not enough.  Then we have to muster the courage to let a friend know, accept help.  During one of my worst times, I lacked all initiative.  If someone stopped by, I didn't offer them so much as a glass of water.  Then one day I answered the offer of help differently:  "Yes, please bring gallons of iced tea."  It was a start. 

The main thing about being sad, about any emotion really, is to accept it.  Happiness passes, but so does sadness.  That's what emotions do, they come and go.  They fade with time.  One replaces another.  In many ways, sadness is probably as good for us as any more pleasant emotion.  I'm sure there are griefs I would not have survived without the calmness my sad days brought.  There are decisions I may not have made if I hadn't taken sadness as a warning. Prayers I may not have prayed and a closeness to God that may have been delayed but for my sad feelings. 

Right now, Mr. Wiggles needs his second walk of the day.  It's time to go outdoors. It's time to bundle because our North Carolina shore is colder than it's been all season, an amazing turnaround for mid-March. Air sunny and crisp, the ocean is a bright Carribean blue. And if sadness comes, for whatever reason, as it sometimes does, let's each be ready to accept it and let it move on.                       In peace, Nina Naomi

MY LIFE'S NOT WHAT I EXPECTED. NO ONE'S IS.

One time I was telling a friend that my life isn't what I expected it to be.  "No one's is," she said. In her case, her newborn son received bad medical care that led to severe disability. She became wise overnight.  The power of love can do that. It can eclipse all else.  I was her lawyer. 

I didn't expect to go to law school.  I didn't expect to lose our grown son to cancer.  I didn't expect to live most of my life in the South.  I didn't know that mental illness would affect our family.  Although any grandparent could have told me, I didn't expect my love for our grandchildren to overflow like the rising sea.  I bet most of us, for good or ill, aren't living just as we expected.  From this we learn, from the good that happens to us and from things that we wouldn't wish on anyone. 

For me, I'm always discovering what needs to be turned over to God.  A broken heart surely, something that's past.  Suffering, something that's present.  And fear, something that's future.  So, in my life, and yours also, the past, present and future can be given to God.  I do what I can but at the close of the day the hardest things I cannot bear alone.  

Our soul abides in mystery.  As does much else, not a bad thing.  We learn to live in harmony with the mystery that surrounds us.  Although journeys may have ends, it's the journey itself that is real life.  The endings are not ours to know.  

The greatest thief of time is worry. Worry and procrastination, self-criticism and self-judgment get us nowhere. In the extreme they lead to resentment, fatigue and depression. We should be kind to ourselves every day.  This is not selfish or self-indulgent, any more than being kind to others; it is a requirement of life. Virginia Woolfe (1882-1941) says, "In solitude we give passionate attention to our lives, to our memories, to the details around us."  Memory is therapy.  While solitude may be hard to come by for some, her words remind us how well-spent such time can be. Everyone needs time when they don't move to the rhythm of others. 

The difference between abundance and lack may be focusing on what is present in our lives instead of what is missing. Such a simple idea. Simplicity and abundance are soul mates.  I read about a way to use the word "but" to transform a mood.  "I can't afford to entertain but I've invited friends for a potluck."  "My kitchen needs a remodel, but I make delicious meals in it."  "I've been working long hours, but my children are growing in responsibility."  Such a positive way to settle our emotions about something we can't change, or at least not right away. Years ago, when we were contemplating a move (that didn't happen), I could see the concern on my mother-in-law's face.  She had already relocated to be near us.  I told her, "We'll find a house and school for the children, then you can find an apartment and we'll all find a church."  How did she rally?  "Well, I am good at making friends," she said.  

A charitable, or cheerful, or empathetic person confers anonymous benefits on each person they encounter. Whomever they meet is made better in the moment.  The same with someone unkind or irritable or self-centered.  Whomever they encounter is made to feel just a little bit worse.  So many ways to make the world better are not available to me.  That list is long. But how easy to lift someone's day by sharing your own welcoming mood.  Why spread frustration?  

So, my life isn't what I expected it to be.  Maybe (probably) yours isn't either.  In some very basic ways, my life is much worse. People who lose a child do hold that distinction.  But it is also a life that gives me feelings of joy and contentment, acceptance and peace. I expect that good feelings anchor your life as well.  Perhaps that's true for all of us.  That we are made resilient and buoyed by hope. What more can we want for each other?   And for this, let us give thanks.                

                                                                    Nina Naomi

TAKING COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY

 

As the seasons evolve, there's a comfort in familiarity.  Each day we get a chance to see the changes that have arrived overnight on our doorstep. Looking daily out the same windows, or driving the same roads, we learn when to expect the yellow forsythia, when the jonquils emerge from the leaf litter, and when red bud trees blossom in deep magenta. In my neighborhood in the North Carolina Piedmont, all these faithful Spring harbingers are on display now, even though the wind is high, the air chilly and we're in sweaters. Later, in not too many days, the forsythia blooms each will become a leaf cluster in bright citron; the jonquils and daffodils will wither leaving long drooping stems and leaves to decay; and the irregular branches of the red bud will sprout heart-shaped leaves that gradually turn dark green. It's always something to look forward to, these changes.  

The light and sounds change too.  In winter the bare trees don't buffer the whistle of the train across the woods.  It's loud and long, one of my favorite sounds as it fades.  The winter sun is often brighter than later in the year, unfiltered, and the night sky darker.  The stars themselves are closer and the air more transparent. In summer the thick warm moisture-laden air dims their sparkle. 

Daylight Savings begins tonight, and we'll get an extra hour of daylight.  I'm not ready for that.  I've been cherishing early nights and wool throws in the morning.  March seems too early for long days.  

There's something reassuring about the seasons. I am glad we live where we have some of all four, even though we could use a better balance between our humid summer and snowless (this year) winter. How is it where you live?  

Enjoying the movement between seasons makes me think of Claude Monet (1940-1926) painting the same scene at all times of the day and year, capturing how our perception changes with the light:  his Water Lilies, the Rouen Cathedral, and his series of Haystacks.  I wish I could go to Paris to see them! The Haystacks to me are the most awakening: sheaves of barley and wheat in the morning sunlight, at close of an autumn day, at the end of summer, at sunset, over 25 different light effects in all.  Even the most ephemeral changes catch his eye; a haystack frosted white before dawn, the same haystack under a light pink frost at sunset, then covered with a gentle snow on another day. A fellow Impressionist, Camille Pissarro, said, "These canvases breathe contentment."   

Haystack in Winter, 1891

That's how I feel so many times when I'm outdoors--content.  It's wonderful to live in the same place for a long time.  We have been in our house for 21 years.  We've seen cedar trees grow to 120 feet high.  Small beeches are now a grove.  I know where to find crevices of moss and when the wild daisies will bloom.  I know how much rain causes the creek to overflow and how much uproots a tree. 

We can have the same familiarity with our neighborhood, a nearby river, most any favorite place.  We can watch how the moon moves across the sky, how the sun makes shadows on our walls, how the rain hits our windows.  We recognize the bird sounds that wake us.  If we garden, we watch the seeds that sprout on our windowsills before the ground is warm.  

As Spring arrives this year, let's live in the present and luxuriate in what the season brings. Let's be mindful nature lovers.     Love, Nina Naomi      

I LOVE BEING SMALL

I love being small.

When I tilt to the trees, I am small.

When I walk by the sea, I am small.

When we snuggle in bed, I am small. 

I love being large.

When I hold out my arms, I am large.

When I ponder my life, I am large. 

With my grandchildren near, I am large. 

I love being brave.

When I face what I know, I am brave. 

When I tackle the past, I am brave.

When the moment is mine, I am brave.

I love being wise.

When I trust my own mind, I am wise.

From the trials of my days, I am wise. 

In my heart and my soul, I am wise. 

I love who I am. 

To the One who holds me, thank you Lord.

                                                    Nina Naomi 

                                                     

. 

 

                                                     

                                                                                    

THE NEXT 10 TINY PLEASURES OF THE NEW YEAR

Enjoy the outdoors

Continuing our could-do list of hopes (Post, Jan 4, 2023), both big and small and somewhat random, for this year:

29.  When you or I are feeling broken remember that we have been repaired.  If you (and I) have endured something devastating, think about why we survived.  Seldom do we survive on our own.  For me, God is always there.  

30.  Start or keep a mindfulness practice.  Be present in awareness without judgement.  Mindful.org is free.  Great free anti-ruminating tools are abundant. 

31.  Remember that it's hard to be happy when someone is mad at you.  That someone may be us.  When we are reminded of something hard that takes us out of the present, don't berate ourselves for remembering.  Some things we don't "get over."  We just get better at bearing--lots better.  

32.  As well, remember that we are not our thoughts and they do not define us.  

33.  Find silent places to come home to. Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) says that she would like to be in a place so silent and work so slowly that she would be able to hear herself living.  Me too from time to time.  I have a book, Quiet London by Siobhan Wall that can be a guide to the gentle and serene in other cities as well. One trip we found all the quiet places that she listed, a visit not on any tourist agenda. 

34.  Sit by a fire as often as possible, by the firepit or around the hearth indoors.  Winter is lasting long this year in most of the country.  Wood fires are the best of the season.  Enjoy the hypnotic dance of the flames. There's a reason the four elements are earth, air, fire and water. 

35.  Spend more time in parks, gardens and nature reserves.  Hang out by waterfalls, ponds and rivers.  Make these spots for mindful noticing:  willows, waterfowl, frogs and fish, children playing . . . .  

36.  Make the outdoors a second home.  Create outdoor rooms.  Add chairs and tables: on the lawn, under a tree, by a pool, on a patio.  Eat al fresco.  Set up a hoop, kick a ball, play tag, sit in the treehouse and read. 

37.  Garden:  herbs, veggies, flowers.  Forsythia in spring, Impatiens in early summer and Zinnias in high summer, pansies in the fall and Hellebores in winter.  

38.  Rely on your body.  My body almost always knows what's best even when my mind is not helpful.  Where does love reside?  In the body.  Where tenderness? The body too.  Where do we feel our emotions?  In our bodies.  Same with intuitions.  If all is not well, your body will know before you do.  If you're having an argument, your body will tell you to stop and make up.  

 

IT IS WELL, IT IS WELL WITH YOUR SOUL

 

Sometimes we need to think about ourselves in the best way possible.  A break from the "why" of what causes us pain.  Not a disappearance of the thoughts that intrude (which won't happen), but less attachment to them.   We need a vision of ourselves that springs from tenderness.  It can take a long life to realize how important it is to treat ourselves with care.  To step back and say to no one but you, "My dear, I love you and will take care of you."  Let's do that today.  Let's affirm the best of who we are.  I'll start.

• I am broken but repaired.
• I am every year deeper than the year before.
• I am learning.
• I try not to fight with the past.
• I check my ruminating mind.  
• I take action.
• I am brave.
• I trust my intuition.
• I love and am loved.
• I am facing my age.
• I always try. 
• I am creative.
• I am someone who can write. 
• I am a child of God.
• I am Christian.
• I have a family.
• I am a wife.
• I am a thinker. 
• I am a lawyer.
• I can be silly or sad or serious.
• I love God, the ocean, trees, rocks, the sky, all of it every night and day. 
• I can be happy alone or with others. 

It is well, it is well with my Soul.  

Thinking of you and your goodness, Nina Naomi