SIT AND STAY

Posted on February 5, 2015 by hafong

I’m into the second week of an eight week formal meditation practice in Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn’s book, Full Catastrophe Living. So far so good but it is not easy. It should be no surprise to me. It is easy to tell Sheba to sit but she doesn’t stay. I haven’t really insisted upon it either. I give up too easily, so as soon as my back is turned, she is up and away. Like mistress, like dog.

Being the mistress, I’m having more success with staying – at least my body is. My mind darts here, there and everywhere. My body wants to bolt, too. I stay. My pulse races. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I breathe and let go, remembering to accept what is at the moment. I see the poster in front of me. “Live Each Day to the Fullest”. The words soothe me and I breathe again. I feel my heart calming, the beats slower. I read the line “Live Each Day to the Fullest” again. That is what I want.

I had not known that it is so difficult to stay in the body. My mind wants to be somewhere else all the time. I give thanks to whatever that has led me to this process of discovery. The power lies within my body and spirit. It is not out there in Somewhere Else.

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW

Posted on February 4, 2015 by hafong

It’s Wednesday and I’m ready for Friday Fictioneers and our stories of 100 words. We’re hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. Here’s my 100 words for the picture prompt. I hope you will enjoy them. These are hard times and we need a little wizardry and lots of rainbows in our lives.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Melanie Greenwood

Dorothy wondered what had happened. Last thing she remembered was feeding the chickens for Aunt Em. Uncle Henry was cleaning the barn.

She gazed around, her mouth opened, her eyes round in wonder. She saw the rainbow. She was dazed and amazed. She remembered being swept up by a big wind.

She felt something squirm in her arms. Toto! Oh thank God! At least she was not alone in this strange place. She put the little black dog down. They have to find their way back home.

She saw the yellow brick road. With Toto following, she headed towards it.

FACING MY GREMLINS

Posted on February 2, 2015 by hafong

It’s a beautiful sunny day – calm and cool, but not too cool. I wish I was calm and cool but I am not. Those little gremlins are nibbling at my heels, disturbing my peace. Sheba is making her little whining noises at the same time. Comfort me! Feed me! I rub her ears and tell her it’s a bit early. I give in. Otherwise, I would have no peace.

Perhaps today is not a good day to declutter. But then, would there be such a day? I’ve been waiting for years now. It hasn’t shown up so I took a deep breath and started.

I’m a clutter bug, not a true blue hoarder. But then, maybe I am or could easily become one. I better get a move on! I am not plunging head long into the dig and clearing of stuff. I don’t have the energy or presence of mind so I am treading softly and carefully doing the easy stuff. I’m having a tough time parting with stuff, even the easy stuff. I haven’t practice sorting and detaching at all. It is really the ideas and memories they hold and not the things themselves.

The gremlins are getting more stimulated now. I feel their agitation in my head. I breathe in and out, seeing and feeling myself in the warm water of the swimming pool. My arms rise and fall with each stroke. I’m flipping my legs softly like a mermaid’s tail. I can do it! I gather the dried roses from the basket, breaking off the blooms from the stem. I will enjoy their colours for one more day. Tomorrow they will be recycled back into earth. No need to hang on and gather dust forever. There’s more waiting in the wings.

It’s tough letting go of forever. I’m feeling the gremlins and fear of letting go. After all, it is the goal of this blog – to dig deep through the fear and letting it go. Another deep breath and I’m down in the basement. I have dug through the basket of laundered clothes, untouched in at least 3 years. It feels as if a bogey man was hiding there, ready to pounce out at me.

No bogey man. I found only myself, the one who forgot to take care of herself for awhile – and some clothes I didn’t put away. They are in bags now, ready for donation to Value Village. Is it melodramatic to say that it was TOUGH and I feel a bit shaky? Well, it is and I am. It’s definitely time for another cup of tea and maybe a chocolate chip cookie or two.

THE SWITCH

Posted on January 30, 2015 by hafong

It is Friday again and time for Friday Fictioneers with our stories of 100 words from the picture prompt. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple. And here are my 100 words for this week.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Ted Strutz

Perspiration beaded on her forehead. She felt the sting of it in her eyes. She wished she could rub them. They were itching like the dickens. She could just scream. Her arms and legs were bound to the chair. Was she sorry? No, damn it! The woman had it coming.

The clock was ticking. Her heart pounded, the heat rushing up her face into her head. She squeezed her eyes shut. She heard the switch click. Warm liquid ran down her legs. Oh no! She was falling. Her eyes flew opened. Dazed, she looked around. She was in her bathtub!

DROPPING THE SHOE

Posted on January 28, 2015 by hafong

We live in the age and environment of fear and anxiety. We are bombarded with news of shootings, beheadings and terrorist acts. I hear the whining of sirens almost every day. But there comes a time when a person has to let go of her all fears and anxiety – just let that damn proverbial shoe drop. Let it do what it may. Will it shatter like Humpty Dumpty so that not all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could put it back together again? In that case, maybe we can just buy a new shoe.

I’m dropping that shoe – again. I’m letting go. Sheba has been absorbing my bad vibes and barking and whining at invisible shadows. Like mistress, like dog. I need to accept the dark as well as the light. There are no bogeymen. It’s only the tricks of our wandering minds.

I’m learning to drown my fears in the pool water, in those warm arms that hold me like my mother’s womb. I let it embrace me, caress me, loosening fear’s grip on me, washing it away. I feel no fear as I float, my face in the water. There is no hurry or worry. I will not sink. I will not drown. There is time to breathe. I’m blowing out what I don’t need. I’m breathing in precious air. It flows in my mouth and nose, fills my lungs and nourishes me throughout. I am moving up and down the length of the pool without effort and fear. It is enough if only for that time and space. Tomorrow I can do better.

GETTING TO KNOW ME

Posted on January 25, 2015 by hafong

Sundays can be good for relaxing and letting go. Today is one of those days. Life and the snow are melting around me – in January. I’m still unravelling. Soon I will come to the end of the spool. I wonder if I will bounce back and up like a yoyo.

I’m at this part of Susannah Conway’s Unravelling the Year Ahead:

Fast-forward to December 2015. You are sitting in a café, musing over the last 12 months. Where do you want to be…

… in your head? (work, dreams, goals)

… in your heart? (relationships, family, friends)

… in your physical world? (home, health, hobbies)

… in your soul? (beliefs, practices, self-love)

These are hard questions. I love the thought of sitting in a cafe with a hot cup of Chai – in silence and solitude. Do I know myself to answer these questions? It’s worth the time. I owe it to myself to take time getting to know me.

Getting to know you
Getting to know all about you
Getting to like you
Getting to hope you like me

Getting to know you
Putting it my way
But nicely
You are precisely
My cup of tea

The King And I – Getting To Know You Lyrics | MetroLyrics

So I’m off to get acquainted. Till next time, ta ta for now.

THE LAKE

Posted on January 23, 2015 by hafong

So it is Friday again. Time for another tale from this Friday Fictioneer. This is my story of 100 words this week from the photo prompt below. We are hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields of Addicted to Purple.

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Georgia Koch

She remembered the night well. The water was so black. The boat bobbed gently up and down on the waves. A lump caught in her throat. She hoped that she wasn’t going to throw up. She was so afraid. Her teeth chattered and rattled. She shivered, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders.

The water gleamed in the moonlight. All was silent around them as they rowed further and further into the lake. Finally they stopped. They could no longer see the shore. It was safe now. They held their breath, steadying themselves momentarily and heaved their burden into the water.

LIVING THE WHOLE DANG CATASTROPHE

Posted on January 22, 2015 by hafong

There is always something to be grateful for – even in anxiety and sleepless nights. You suffer in both, sometimes unbearably. Never a stoic, someone who can keep a stiff upper lip, I seek for relief relentlessly. It is no surprise that I have a whole library of self-help books. By now, I could write my own. I should start making notes. What I know for sure is, there is no permanent fix. But you can learn from each episode and make it easier for your next time. It’s still about doing your best and then letting go. Perhaps, you might find me too direct, up front and revealing. But what/who does that hurt – admitting that I am human and flawed? I am with you all in the ~~milieu~~ catastrophe of life.

In the middle of a sleepless angst, I rose from my bed one night and migrated to the kitchen. I made a cup of ginger tea and cuddled up under my Hudson’s Bay blanket with an old friend – Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Full Catastrophe Living. I’ve read it a time or two and have practiced some of the exercises in it. You know how we human beings are. When the going gets tough, we are so serious and dedicated. Once the crisis is over, we stray and then abandon the practice altogether – till the next time.

This is my next time. I’m doing the practice again – of sitting and watching my breath for 15 minutes. The first time was not too bad, being the first. I was full of resolve. I can do anything in that state. I felt some discomfort the 2nd time. My thoughts strayed. I wanted to water the plants. I wanted to make soup. I wanted to get out of my skin! I breathed and felt the rise and fall of my belly. The 15 minutes passed.

Today is my 3rd day. The 15 minutes are easier. The mind wanders. I accept it. It is what it is. I have 4 more days to complete the week. Then it is 7 more weeks, working up to 45 minutes of formal meditation, of watching my breath. Can I do it? Yes! Yes! Yes! It is worth the effort to come out from under the thumb of my misfiring mind. If I don’t try, it won’t happen. I can always do my best, whatever it is on any given day.

Miraculously I am myself again. It is as if someone has put the patches on my chest and defibrillated me. I am at ease. It is as if it never happened. It’s like a bad dream, a nightmare. I shake my head and wonder what the hell had happened. It matters not. I pick myself up, dust myself off and truck on down the road. Life goes on. So do I – not quite an EverReady battery.

UNRAVELLING THE PAST INTO THE NOW

Posted on January 19, 2015 by hafong

Some days I’m a bit melancholy – maybe a left-over feeling from childhood days when we were new immigrants. Can an eight year old feel lost and displaced in Gold Mountain(Canada)? Where was the gold? In my child’s mind I had expected to see a land filled with colourful balloons and lollypops. There was neither. It was puzzling.

I felt the smallness of our town, the dirt streets and the emptiness. I felt the smallness of me. What I remembered the most was the loneliness of my mother. I did not recognized it as such at the time but rather felt it. I was probably equally as lonely. We were far away from home and our extended family. We did not know the language.

It was so many years ago. Was my memory correct? Was it true? Or was it distorted by the clouds, a sleepless night and the moody blues? The thinking mind can be so deceptive. I have sunnier memories of other days when my mother recount stories from her childhood, of her siblings, her parents and China. I have a rich and colourful heritage, one to be proud of.

I am dusting off the cobwebs and debris of my mind. I am sweeping them out the door. I’ve finished unravelling 2014 and now ready to tackle 2015 of Susannah Conway’s Unravelling the Year Ahead. When I am feeling discouraged, it helps to look back at the seeds I have sown and the rewards reaped the past year. I have not done a small thing. Life is not a small thing, but it is made up of many little things.

The evening is here. There is no sun to set. The day is done. Time to put thinking aside and rest on my laurels.

ALL THAT THERE IS

Posted on January 17, 2015 by hafong

It’s 9:45 Saturday morning. The sun is finally making its entrance. He knows how to be dramatic. He peeks slowly above the rooftops one minute, the next thrusting its rays full force, like Jimmy Durante dancing on stage. VOILA!

I say it’s about bloody time! These heavy dark mornings gets on a girl’s nerve, never mind her heart. I can almost hear that ~~shoe~~glass dropping. It shatters into a million shining splinters, the sun bouncing off the shards as they fall. Everything is all right. It’s just an imaginary playing in my mind’s eye, much like a dream. I am made of sterner stuff. I do not shatter so easily.

I am doing so much better than I realize. This is how my desk look this morning – better than it has for a gazillion years. You can actually see the glass desktop. It does feel infinitely better not to have my usual pile of clutter piled in front of me, pushing me down, squishing me in. My sun room is my sacred space and it is about time for me to give it the respect. Thanks to a blog called simply + kierste on how to have to clean home every day. I get it now. There’s holiness in clean uncluttered spaces. I am loving the ritual of cleaning and clearing. It calms my heart and eases my mind. It puts me in the stillness of the Universe. I am saved another day – to breathe, write and love all that there is.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity