It’s a trick of the English language, I think, which took me years to figure out. Each day, as I sat, trying to calm and settle my mind, the monkeys kept coming to fill it up.
Finally, I figured out how to practice letting go and emptying, which the word “mindful” (mind full) seems to contradict. It was then that I realized that the empty mind had…
(Also, I can't wait for Summer's Gifts! I have a feeling that reading to my kids is how I'll survive being home with both of them all summer, and I am hoping to choose many of the books somewhat seasonally; I've found that helps my reading rhythm and I would love for them to love stories and learning as much as I do.)
'Mind how you go'
Grandpa would say as I left the house
His way of telling me to be careful
to watch where you step
to pay attention to what's around
Mind how you go -
fill your mind
with the moment
see the sights
hear the sounds
smell the scents
don't let your mind
be so full of other things
that you miss
this one precious moment
Mind how you go
So precious 😊
I hate missing stuff.
This is beautiful, Jane!
mind full
of what
is a question
worth asking
.
if it is
already full
where do we
integrate
emerging
wisdom
begging
a home
of us?
.
It’s a trick of the English language, I think, which took me years to figure out. Each day, as I sat, trying to calm and settle my mind, the monkeys kept coming to fill it up.
Finally, I figured out how to practice letting go and emptying, which the word “mindful” (mind full) seems to contradict. It was then that I realized that the empty mind had…
No Bananas
As I sit by the river,
dangling my feet
in the cool water,
longing to refresh my heart
by quieting my mind,
I hear them coming
around the upstream bend;
finally catching sight
of a single monkey,
in a flimsy canoe.
Strong-arming his paddle,
perpendicular to the flow,
he slowly drifts toward me,
eyes pleading.
He is followed by a larger vessel
with several monkeys on board.
They kill the outboard motor
and engage the trolling motor,
drifting sideways, so that
I can look directly into
their insatiable eyes.
The final craft in this flotilla
is a large river paddleboat.
Knowing that I would be here,
its captain has already
let the paddle wheel
cease its forward churn.
I stare into a sea
of starving primate pupils,
each one begging.
This is the arrival
of negative monkeys
each morning;
haunting, hungry, beseeching.
I used to try to kill them;
dreaming of picking them off,
one by one, centering them
in the crosshairs of my zeal.
Each time I did, they morphed
into clones of righteous indignation
that I grabbed to club
others’ naysaying monkeys,
wincing as my own blood flowed.
This day, I wave and smile,
showing them my empty hands.
My heart whispers,
“I have no bananas for you,
but I wish you peace
as the river carries you downstream.”
Most days they circle back,
sometimes once more,
other times twice or thrice,
disbelieving that I will not
offer them nourishment.
Finally, disappointed and unfed,
they set their faces
toward the ocean.
Mine tilts toward hope;
toward a holy “yes”.
Sometimes mine throw poop at me.
an actual out loud laugh.
I thought I was over toilet humour.
Guess not.
good.
😂
🤣🤣
🤭
Yes, we have no bananas.
We have no bananas today...
This is epic, Todd. What a creative and delightful story poem!
Where do we put new stuff?
or maybe we are done until something leaks out.
pondering your poem.
Heart hanging heavy
My whole body dragging reluctant to the car
For the 3 minute drive down the long hill to my Mama’s house.
And yet
There was no where else I would rather be going
As long as my Mama was trapped in an ALS frozen body.
It was a Gift to be able to love and care for her
Even if it hurt
To see her hurt.
More than anything
This Season taught me
To resist the temptation to allow one aspect of my life to control me but rather to
Live mindful of the Full Truth of each moment.
Life is not monochromatic.
Moments are rarely if ever
All One Thing.
There are most always dimensions, textures, and flavors to soften hard times.
As I drove down the long hill,
The gray-domed sky thick with gloom felt like
A reflection of my heavy heart and weary thoughts
Then
One small crack near the horizon
Unnoticed before
Let a beam from setting sun
Pierce through and
Transform the gray cloud canvas to
Magnificent magenta and golden sunset splendor!
A miracle in a moment!
Now my heart transformed to reflect the glorious beauty of the skies!
I pulled off and snapped a picture to share with Mama.
Arriving in her driveway,
Stepping out of the car,
I felt some of the weight returning until
A refreshing breeze lifted carrying birdsong, honeysuckle, and a cool caress.
My heart buoyed with these Gifts,
I walked through the door
Feeling supremely grateful for
The Privilege of enjoying my Mama’s presence
And mindful of the immeasurable blessing of the full Truth of each precious moment with her—
For suffering overwhelmed and eclipsed by
Love
Joy
Laughter
And
Celebration of the full spectrum of Life shared.
woof.
These words paint powerful and familiar colors.
This is really lovely. Moments are rarely all one thing. Amen.
The full spectrum 💜
Truly a gift! Thank you for reminding me.
I needed this today. Thank you so much for this poem.
Quiet, quiet
Questions -
Quiet down!
Always, always
Asking -
Makes me frown.
Never, ever
Certain -
I don't know.
Could I maybe
Listen?
Learn to flow?
Listen to the
Questions -
What is here?
Tell me
Intuition -
Make it clear.
Mindful that my
Mind is full -
Give it space.
Show up for
The Questions -
Give them grace.
maybe.
learn to flow.
please, yes.
This is wonderful, Sarah. I love how you structure and frame your poem, the use of repitition and the flow of the short lines. Just wonderful!.
I'm calling this "Well, fuck."
All that stuff /they/ said
about being mindful?
.
It turns out that
they were right,
which means
I'm supposed to
keep doing this
for the rest of my life.
On top of the endless
dishes and laundry,
I get to undertake
the mind-numbing
repetition of being
in my body.
There's a bit of irony
in that, I think.
But, hey, I'm
✨️functioning✨️
(Also, I can't wait for Summer's Gifts! I have a feeling that reading to my kids is how I'll survive being home with both of them all summer, and I am hoping to choose many of the books somewhat seasonally; I've found that helps my reading rhythm and I would love for them to love stories and learning as much as I do.)
Love the title! And I too am very excited for Summer's Gifts - I just preordered a copy here in Ireland! 💜
Irony for sure, A. This is so true and real!
These days I feel I'm too full of my mind
Worries and imaginary conversations
And the burden of every possible future at once.
Could there be a place of rest
Beyond my mind,
Beyond the cacophony of my thoughts?
I am so tired.
I just want to rest.
Very nice, Lisa! May it be a mindful rest!
Mcmindfulness.
i get rich
and
you might not suck as much
but
i get rich.
a win-win-win
cash cow.
Drive-thru opening soon.
Do kids under 5 eat free? 🤭
Fullness
In the dark,
when my breath steadies,
and my heart regains
a peaceful rhythm,
something around me —
even in me — vibrates
to a tune of anticipation,
and I feel a quiver
in my marrow.
Is it mindfulness,
or merely me-fulness?
I cannot name it.
Neither can I tell you
when it will arrive;
but still, I feel it, and
I feel it holding me,
like a mother
gently undergirding
a fragile child,
secure and promising;
and in the tenderness
of this grip, I hope,
not just for me or for a few,
but for us, all of us.
'mere me-fullness' feels too right.
made me chuckle.
and wince.
thank you.
Me-fullness, for sure!!
be mindful
search your feelings
do not be afraid
fear leads
to and anger
anger leads
to hate
hate leads to
suffering
be mindful
am I a Jedi?
am I a mystic?
am I a fool?
I don't know
but I am
mindful
It is the first step.
Set up for the scene
Where you pick out
Outcomes like paint samples,
Try on ideas like mock ups
Of costumes- once the stage
Is set, the play can begin.
Mindful
-
Quiet moments, finally
perfect time to write poems!
First line typed, and then it begins.
Folks stopping by, varied reasons
all good, kind, caring peeps
with time to spare, to chat…
But don’t they know I have a poem to write?
-
And it strikes me like a brick falling
From the sky,
The prompt is “mindful.”
As in mindfulness, or mindful practice
or present moment thoughtfulness.
Where am I in this present moment?
-
With Jean, speaking of her family,
with Paul talking about hikers lost,
with Donna keeping me up to date
on George’s Appalachian Trail trek,
with Sarah wondering about her future.
-
What a gift each present moment is.
This opportunity to breathe, to feel life,
To sit in safe space with another,
To listen to a beloved share their story.
How could I be anything but mindful?
-
Turn away from the computer,
let the sparks of creativity germinate,
smile at the twists and turns breathed by spirit
know that this is mindfulness,
this place, this time, this room,
this beating heart, these listening ears
opening to this present moment,
this beautiful life.
The gift of presence is immeasurable.
That is so right, Todd!
Mindfulness
Is a practice
With so much
To distract us
It’s hard to be
Mindful
When the mind
Is so full
Soulful
Within the push-pull
It’s not actually
About the mind
Or the fullness
Just practice
Letting go.
Ooh, I like this
Mindful
Breathing in
Breathing out
I come back
to my body
I come back
to my self.
Being a witness
To the currents
Moving through me
Holding space for
for the energy
flowing from you.
I tune in
and just be.
Present
Aware
Listening
Curious.
Breathing in
Breathing out
I come back
To this moment
I come back
To you.
Inspired as I rode by bike home from work 😄
.
Mindfulness comes easy
as I ride my bike to work.
My senses fight for dominance as
all five strike at once.
.
My nose is filled with
cut grass, lilac, and pollen.
The morning air smells fresh
and new; on my trip home,
smell and taste intermingle when
I'm teased by neighbor's dinner.
.
My ears catch the sounds of passing cars,
wind in the trees, and the many-toned barks
of neighboring dogs.
I pedal past a school
and smile at the sounds of recess.
.
My hands revel in the feel of my leather grips and
delight at the twist of the throttle when
my motor assists me on prolonged uphills.
My back logs each crack in the pavement,
no matter how I swerve to avoid them.
.
Occasionally I get an unwelcome taste
of a car's exhaust that slipped through
the emissions test.
The lingering taste of my morning coffee
reminds me that fresh air is more effective
at readying me for the day.
.
But pure mindfulness eludes me
concerning my eyes.
.
For as much as I'd love to fill them
with the sight of green leaves against
a clear blue sky, or
look for shapes in the cumulus clouds
blowing by,
I must look out
so I don't
CRASH!
I used to think of mindfulness
As the ability to maintain calm
Stay zen-like no matter the situation
If only…
It was that simple
Sustaining presence under pressure.
I have every intention to—
As warm water cascades over my fingers while washing dishes (Not reliving the patronizing remark a supervisor made to me earlier that day at work),
As I lie in bed reading a book or meditating (Not distracted by an itch in my ear or my aching back)
As I stare out the window at the birds gathering on rooftops across the green (unbothered by the blare of a leaf blower)
As I listen to my daughters’ laughter in the room down the hall (not annoyed by the bickering that soon erupts out of nowhere)
How I long to stay present
In whatever I am experiencing
Appreciating that particular moment—if that’s what mindfulness really is, and if so,
Sometimes I have it, or I think I do,
Except then…(and there is always an “except then”)
Life parachutes into my…
Whatever it is, wherever I am
Reminding me, that is, re—minding my mind
Of what it is missing:
The unpaid bills, missed text, unmade calls
A lost shoe, lost charger, lost remote—
Something, somewhere is always lost,
In need of finding
And in the looking, my own mind is lost,
Off and running, running, running away
Fleeing it’s own jurisdiction
Escaping to more pressing matters
And for a while I am running with it, faster,
And faster,
Trying to make sense, to make sure,
Catch up, dammit, why is this happening…
Until I remember to—stop.
Just
Stop.
Catch my breath instead, hold on
Take it in, let it go, again, and again
The way I live today is the way I live my life—
I think that’s the Buddhist saying
Or was it Oprah—In any case,
For the time being—maybe not for long, but it’s progress—
I am back, anchored, and home.
For the finding of being found.
Today I am a loose balloon
released when a kid’s party
went from social to chaos
in a matter of minutes
-
Today I sit down to write
four different times
in four different spots
trying to grasp a moment
-
Today it is enough
to let my shoulders release
to go outside to get the mail
to fill my lungs with air
-
Today I am tugged down
by a slow joy that unfurls
when my children smile
and wonder if all along
-
they were guiding
me home
That moment…. when the moment holds you.