When I was in my 20s, I went to the gym, then in my 30s, I did yoga, and now in my 40s, I’ve felt guilty for no longer wanting to do those things in the same way, and as a result, I haven’t been as grounded as I’d like. But as I was swimming yesterday, it occurred to me that maybe swimming was the movement my body wanted now.
There is something particularly soothing about the way the water drops my body temperature for the rest of the day. I sleep better at night; it cools my very mood.
This makes me wonder about phases in life. Maybe at each phase, there is a unique way for us to be the most present.
I wonder if some of our dissatisfaction with the way things are has to do with forcing ourselves to inhabit a frequency our bodies —or selves —don’t want to be on, of forcing ourselves to do things the way they have always been done rather than how they serve us, of trying to be the person we were rather than the person we are trying to become.
Maybe if we all find the frequency— the gardening, the book-reading, the little love notes, — for each phase of our lives, maybe we find the way to be present.
(You know, along with all the yoga, the breathing, the mindfulness, and ritual cacao!)
Thank you for making the time to share your thoughts and for encouraging me, unknowingly, to find the courage to swim against the current.
I'm choosing to not hustle. It's never served me well ... I want to continue creating for the joy of it. I want to hand out the little tokens of love to amplify the happiness quotient in my little corner of the world. I want to be more and do less.
I appreciate your being here to remind me that another way -- my way -- of living is possible.
Something I’ve noticed in my five years of retirement is the true blessing of unstructured time. It’s not something I got to experience much earlier in my life and it’s amazing.
I’m also really fortunate that my “happy place” is a real place which I actually get to spend time in most months. At this very moment I’m enjoying the sight of the fall forest out my dining room window, hearing the ravens and jays and hawks carrying on. Earlier this morning I listened to the wild turkey hens scolding their teenage chicks and watched our little buck and his two does grazing on the hill below the house. This peaceful time is what keeps me going during this tense and stressful season.
I love this so much, Kerry, especially because I know how well-deserved your unstructured time is. Thank you for sharing, so vividly, what your happy place looks like. It sounds absolutely serene!
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately.
When I was in my 20s, I went to the gym, then in my 30s, I did yoga, and now in my 40s, I’ve felt guilty for no longer wanting to do those things in the same way, and as a result, I haven’t been as grounded as I’d like. But as I was swimming yesterday, it occurred to me that maybe swimming was the movement my body wanted now.
There is something particularly soothing about the way the water drops my body temperature for the rest of the day. I sleep better at night; it cools my very mood.
This makes me wonder about phases in life. Maybe at each phase, there is a unique way for us to be the most present.
I wonder if some of our dissatisfaction with the way things are has to do with forcing ourselves to inhabit a frequency our bodies —or selves —don’t want to be on, of forcing ourselves to do things the way they have always been done rather than how they serve us, of trying to be the person we were rather than the person we are trying to become.
Maybe if we all find the frequency— the gardening, the book-reading, the little love notes, — for each phase of our lives, maybe we find the way to be present.
(You know, along with all the yoga, the breathing, the mindfulness, and ritual cacao!)
Your comment made me thing long and hard, Kate.
Thank you for making the time to share your thoughts and for encouraging me, unknowingly, to find the courage to swim against the current.
I'm choosing to not hustle. It's never served me well ... I want to continue creating for the joy of it. I want to hand out the little tokens of love to amplify the happiness quotient in my little corner of the world. I want to be more and do less.
I appreciate your being here to remind me that another way -- my way -- of living is possible.
Something I’ve noticed in my five years of retirement is the true blessing of unstructured time. It’s not something I got to experience much earlier in my life and it’s amazing.
I’m also really fortunate that my “happy place” is a real place which I actually get to spend time in most months. At this very moment I’m enjoying the sight of the fall forest out my dining room window, hearing the ravens and jays and hawks carrying on. Earlier this morning I listened to the wild turkey hens scolding their teenage chicks and watched our little buck and his two does grazing on the hill below the house. This peaceful time is what keeps me going during this tense and stressful season.
I love this so much, Kerry, especially because I know how well-deserved your unstructured time is. Thank you for sharing, so vividly, what your happy place looks like. It sounds absolutely serene!