Morning walk or not – poem

In this morning

this cold morning

the sky touched with the pink the color of rose petals,

of Magnolia blossoms just beginning

I wonder how long it will be

until the sun is awake before quarter till seven

the sky aglow with the sure quiet joy

of awakening.



Because until then

I will wonder how I could possibly have dragged myself out of bed

with time enough to go for a walk

before work,

even on a Saturday

those many months ago,

or so my journal says.



Because right now,

I can’t even imagine getting out of bed

at all

it is so cold and cave-like.

And so I sit here

and write a poem

instead.

And I think maybe this is a kind of walk,

too. Or maybe

I am fooling myself,

again.

Half prayer

I was sitting at the end of my neighborhood, waiting for the light to change. It is a long light, and that intersection marks a change in the traffic from light to heavy.

I have started to use that time to pray.

This time I was filling up the space with my words, and this suddenly came to me. Be still. Let God fill you with God’s words instead.

Prayer isn’t just about talking to God. It is about letting God talk to you.

In my desire to pray, I was doing it all wrong. Or rather, I was doing it only half right.

Yoga in the morning.

I’m rethinking my idea of yoga. I think it is better to do it every day, rather than just once a week at a class. I also think it is better for me to do it first thing in my morning routine rather than at the end.

I hear it is best to do yoga before having breakfast. This would certainly take care of my need to get my morning started but not be in the way of my husband. Our day overlaps by about thirty minutes and if I go into the kitchen where he is it is a little chaotic. I’ve discovered that it is best for both of us if I don’t try to start my morning in the same place where he is trying to finish his.

As an alternative, I’ve been bringing my Kindle into the bedroom to write during that time, and while I may still do some of that, I think that doing yoga then would be good too.

I’d been leaving yoga for the end, just after my shower. Somehow I was running out of time and I was either rushing through the poses or just skipping them entirely. So that isn’t working. When I had been making time to do it I’d also been doing an example of “Praying in Color” and that was good too. In the past several months if I’d done either they were done as a sort of afterthought.

If I do them first, they are done. No excuses.

I like how I feel during the day if I’ve done a little yoga. Things seem to go better. I’ve actually found myself sort of checking in with myself. Did I write? Yes. Did I do yoga? Yes. It is like taking a multivitamin for my soul. If I’ve done it, I feel better.

Now, do I feel better because I’ve done yoga, or because I’ve done something I feel is good for me? I don’t know. This has long been something I’ve wondered about. Is it the activity that matters or the commitment and discipline that matters? Sometimes I think what helps me the most is intentionally living my life, rather than just drifting aimlessly through it.

This is part of why I write. Writing keeps me awake. Writing means I face things, rather than running away from them. Writing means I don’t hide behind the unknowing, behind the questions. When I write, I dig, and when I dig, I learn. I start to uncover, and recover, the truth, and with it, myself.

Writing is yoga too, like that. Yoga isn’t just poses. Yoga is a way of thinking. Yoga is sticking with it and working through it. Yoga is leaning in and being patient. Yoga is trying. Yoga is sometimes just showing up, bored and tired, but there anyway. Yoga is finding the center calm. Yoga is better lived off the mat. Yoga is being awake in the moment.

So why wouldn’t I do this every day? Why wouldn’t everybody?

Good Morning

I’m reassessing how I do my mornings. I have an alarm clock set for 6:30, but I don’t seem to be able to get out of bed until 7ish. It is very frustrating. I’d like to think that I am in control. It reminds me of my struggles with any addiction. There are things I want to do that I know are good for me, yet I seem helpless to do them.

So I’m thinking about it. Why can’t I get up? What is the problem?

I don’t need to get up that early. I just want to. I want to have more time to write or paint or do yoga. I deeply resent having to spend 40 hours of my week at work. That is a lot of my waking time. It is a lot of my life. Thirty hours would be reasonable but that isn’t an option. Not only is that not something my workplace will even consider because of how the pension plan is set up, I’m not sure we could afford that kind of pay cut.

I find that it is hard to get up early for several reasons.

I usually stay up late to read. I don’t have much time to read otherwise. Back to the 40 hour work week. My main chunks of time, other than work, are spent asleep. I shoehorn in exercise, visits with friends, and everything else I want to do or need to do. I don’t have a lot of time to read. Or I don’t make a lot of time. I read at lunch, but right before bed seems to be the best. I’m not in a rush. Sometimes at night I really get into a book though and it is hard to stop. Then I don’t get enough sleep and I’m tired in the morning.

Another issue is my husband. He has to leave for work before I do but it is always a scene of frazzlement in our house when he is getting ready. The center of our house is the kitchen. It is where our computers are, and where he has all his work gear. It is the biggest room in our tiny house.

If I try to start my day while he is trying to leave the house it is the exact opposite of calm for me. It is not a good start for my day to be in that whirlwind. Ideally, he’d leave earlier, but running late is his normal. I can fight it or accept it and just get out of the way and not let this train run me over.

So I’m trying this. I’ve brought my Kindle into the bedroom. I can write for a bit, out of the madness that is the morning here. I can choose to start my day calmly.

It isn’t about the situation. It is about my reaction to the situation. That’s the key to everything. I can fight it or work with it or around it. My choice.