WRITE A GOOD ONE: 2014
I'm going to try to track my efforts. I've tried and failed at this before, but I want to see how long I can last. It might only be a few days, a week or who knows. Each day I'll post at least one photo that I've taken and I'll write something, whether it's just posting a favorite quote, a new word, or describing a night time dream, or talking about something new that I learned.
So this is my page one, 2014. New Year's Day is here. In looks and feel it isn't any different than yesterday. I woke early -- before 7 a.m. -- and as the sun debuted it was once again muted behind a dull, gray sky. The gray has been suffocating over the month of December. It physically makes me hunch my shoulders as if to shield myself from the dreariness.
Another friend was at a strangely designed motel staying in room 219. At one point I went to see my friend, I think to drop off some of the stuff I was hauling around, but 219 turned out to the wrong room. People were everywhere, even in the hallways. I had a large box filled with chewing gum to give my motel friend, but I never did find her. The stuff I was hauling with my camping partner seemed to grow. We had to make extra trips to get everything. I was frustrated and remember thinking how I needed to downsize more and reduce what was feeling like so much clutter and unnecessary stuff since I - or we - were having to carry it. I groggily woke up after that . . .
I got my dogs fed and made coffee. True to my new changes I did not browse through Facebook. I glanced to see if my daughter posted new pics of their new rental house or messaged me, and then closed the page. I found some meditation music online and just settled in for a type of meditation that I call 'practicing presence'. It's where I focus on all my senses. I hone in on what I hear, what I feel, the tenseness in my muscles, the feel of the coffee cup in my hands, anything to do with my senses. The top of my cup was cooler than the bottom. It was one of my smooth cups. The electric heater coils made small clicking sounds. The refrigerator's motor sounded like a distant engine. I use this time to simply BE and to begin training myself to be aware of my surroundings, to live in the moment, instead of letting time pass by in auto pilot. I spent 30 minutes in practice.
It's now 8:35 a.m. and the solid gray overhead is starting to break up into clouds and blue sky. My whole day is ahead of me and I'll have to figure out what other new changes I'm going to initiate today. Maybe I'll tell about that in Page Two when I check in tomorrow. Or maybe not. . . .