Today the waterfall technique soothed me. My thoughts about my son’s traffic ticket are challenging my peace. I walked today, using the waterfall, and the rhythm of my steps reminded me of how, as a teenager, I loved to use my sewing machine. Something about the soft, rhythmical clacking was soothing in those tumultuous times.
I am off for a last minute weekend with a friend, at a rustic hot springs deep in the Colorado Mountains. I have no idea if the internet exists there. I will post if I can, otherwise, you’ll get three posts on Monday.
0 responses so far ↓
1 Suzanne // Oct 3, 2008 at 1:39 pm
Well Terry have a great weekend .
2 Dawn // Oct 3, 2008 at 6:12 pm
Hi Terry,
Your comment about the sewing machine reminded me of my grand daughter, Makenna. (African for Happiness…absolutely correct)
Her father (my son) and her mother married when Mak was 1 year old. I was asked to sew all sorts of bridal finery which meant dragging my sewing machine and paraphenalia to their home in a nearby city. As soon as the sewing machine was installed in appropriate corner, Makenna was set into her walker. As soon as I pressed the foot peddle she started to bounce and giggle and ‘dance’ around the room, her fat legs pounding out a rhythm on the floor that in no way matched her hand slap-claps. Apparently, that soft, rhythmical clacking sound still has real magic.
3 Abby // Oct 3, 2008 at 11:06 pm
I’ve read the comments from other Joy Dieters about “doing something” while “doing nothing” for their 15 minutes over the past few days and wondered if I could also give that a try. I have the stamina to sit cross-legged on my bed for 15 minutes, whilst visualizing my thoughts like the little slips of paper from fortune cookies, then sending them to a glass jar with a tight lid. This works well for me.
Tonight, however, I went to the gym and did my regular routine. Thinking ahead I decided to bring my bathing suit along so I could sit in the outdoor hot tub afterwards. Coincidentally (was it REALLY a coincidence?!) the timer on the hot tub only goes to 15 minutes – so that‘s where I did *my practice* tonight. Oh was that lovely!
I plopped in to the water – fortunately the only one partaking at the time – and after naming a few thoughts like “my mom is crazy” thoughts, or the “I hope nobody thinks I’m dead in here and tries to rescue me” thoughts, I was able to focus on the gushing sounds of the water jets, the tiny bubbles accumulating on my arms and legs submerged under water, and the warmth of the swirling water all around me. Several minutes into it, I realized my arms were floating, wieghtless in the warm water and I focused on that for a while. Then I wanted to and was compelled to float on my back – really having to keep the “now I REALLY hope nobody comes out here thinking I’m dead, floating in the water” thoughts in check. So there I was, floating in the hot tub, my body splayed out like a starfish and actually turning with the circular motion of the water. Holy cow, such a deliriously profound thing to look up into the star-y night sky, floating in that luscious pool of decadent nothingness. I highly recommend it!
PS: I have to mention that at one point while I was in the water tonight, the sound of an ambulance siren came screaming by. Under ordinary circumstances I would have either put my hands over my ears, completely ignored it, or thought something pretty harsh like “wonder what kind of stupidity caused that accident ” (I know, that‘s bad) – but tonight I was completely struck by what popped into my head while sitting there in the warm swirling water as the ambulance went by. It was “I hope they’re OK.” That’s HUGE for me.
4 Linda // Oct 4, 2008 at 4:09 pm
Abby, that sounds incredible! Makes me wish I had a hot tub. I liked your thoughts-as-fortune -cookie-slips analogy, as well.
This morning the lake was a sea of shimmering diamonds in the light breeze. I sat mesmerized. I tried to focus on only the glitter, but my thoughts tripped in. I submerged them into the water, surrendering to what is.
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