Home thoughts from home

Article/blog from everyday-mindfulness.org, website I am involved with: How Mindfulness Changed My Life ‘Waking up is ultimately something that each one of us can only do for ourselves’ (Jon Kabat-Zinn) I think there is a problem with my enthusiasm for mindfulness and wanting others to benefit from it too. I struggle with keeping quiet, so I am pleased to have this opportunity to write about my own journey to this website. But Kabat-Zinn always says that it is important to not talk about your practice too much with other people; it’s  your  practice. ‘Don’t bother wasting your energy by telling everyone how amazing meditation is and how much it has helped you in your everyday life. Never proselytise and tell others that they should meditate, too.’ It’s great advice but hard to put into practice when something has changed your life so profoundly! I was always anxious, a worrier, with a quick mind that raced from worry to worry, always one step ahead of myself, planning w

So this is what editing does:    Who would have thought…. Sitting in a Buddhist centre Rows of high-backed chairs Pews in a church Cushions on the floor kneelers in the Cathedral the quiet of silent prayer. Swimming the pool Not planning not  thinking Not worrying, not remembering Being in the moment Feeling the cold air on my  lifted arms The warm water on my submerged legs. Walking the local streets Not miles away in my head, But watching this step, and this. I am arrived, I am home, In the here, in the now. Who would have thought The chatter-box, the show-off, Shaking with panic, frozen with fear, Would sit and walk in silence.

Homework, inspired by   Who would have thought by Maggie Butt Who would have thought…. Sitting in a Buddhist centre Rows of high-backed chairs As pews in a church Cushions on the floor kneelers in the Cathedral the quiet of the silent prayer. Swimming the pool Not planning and thinking Not worrying, not remembering Being in the moment Feeling the cold air on my  lifted arms The warm water on my thrashing legs. Walking the local streets Not miles away in my head, But watching this step, and this. I am arrived, I am home, In the here, in the now. Who would have thought The chatter-box, the show-off, Shaking with panic, frozen with fear, Would sit and walk in silence.

Poem produced in class from stimuli: The scars of sorrow bear an extreme heat The scars of sorrow bear an extreme heat Tougher than normal skin I’m proud of mine; they make me who I am, And ashamed and keep them hidden. Tell them my story? Who would want to hear it? Has no wider meaning, unusual, too personal. Nobody wants to think such things can happen, And since it mostly won’t, remains my private grief. Pump up my tires and get back on the bike of normality. High on the pleasures of a day without pain. The joy of turning off my own bedroom light, Sitting in silence on the park bench, enjoying every moment.

Week 3 of Poetry Toolkit  Attention paid to women The looks that women get enclose their life So wary of appearing fast or loose We’re bound by roles as worker or as wife That reins us in and limits chance to choose The woman reads the news in clothes that show She is a serious person, not a girl When Strictly calls her, she can let it go Wear little cardis, even do a twirl But still she is a holder of our dreams Directing what we can and cannot be She must be more a person than she seems The sides of her that we can never see I do not want my girls to end this way Not true to self in each and every day.

More poems from week 2 of Poetry Toolkit, based on observations in the week Invisible Woman The pool Adults only, lunchtime, Empty, quiet, no thumping soundtrack. Muffled bangs from the gym. Ploughing up and down an imaginary lane, No ropes. Suddenly a guy saunters round, slips in,  No stairs for him, Swims the crawl straight towards  me. Unbelievable. I have to veer to avoid him. I’m invisible, seems he never even saw me. Old woman. Been swimming here for a decade or more. No woman has ever done this to me. An awful noise In the restaurant I say “We want a quiet table So we can actually talk to each other”. We get a quizzical look – two woman who want to talk, To each other? The noise is awful, Too many people talking too loudly Because they can’t hear each other, Because the noise is awful. Tesco Just popped in to the big one for some crisp breads The atmosphere is horrid. It’s the middle of the morning o