The Meaning of Life and Other Minor Details: Practicing Mindfulness After Fifty

Yesterday I was reminded by two different folks of my blog, which is the first item put on hold when life gets really busy. Blog writing--reflective essays, really--is my favorite kind of writing, and I always mean to do better about not neglecting it. If I could do this for a living, I believe I would. So here's something for today. When I opened the page to start an entry, I found the following two paragraphs that I had begun last year. Let me tell you, I was in a really different place then than I am now, so it is not the same entry I would do today. Still, as I read it, I thought it was important to show the contrast and reflect on that for a minute. The original title was Minding Mortality. I felt like that needed to change too, so I changed it slightly as you can see. One unexpected realization of practicing mindfulness has been that I am more mindful now of my own mortality. That's probably due to my coming to the practice at this particular age; I'm fifty-f

Prompt from Mindfulness: A Journal (Price, 2016) Make a list of ten everyday activities that you find relaxing or soothing--even those as small as calling a friend or making a cup of your favorite tea. Try it! Do one of the activities on your list and write about your experience.  The List, in no particular order: 1. read--theology, queer theology, JFK assassination theories 2. watch television--documentaries, period pieces, docu-dramas, biographies 3. having my afternoon cup of espresso made with my luxury-item coffee maker 4. playing piano 5. tidying up 6. singing 7. listening to music, which kind of music depends on my mood 8. reverie, including porch time with close friends 9. meditating with my Calm app I realize this is probably a sad little list for many people. I can't even think of a last item offhand. But I think my simple list hints at my capacity for finding joy in the simplest of experiences, noticing a blue bird, for example. This capacity, in turn, poi

I don't blog as much as I would like, so when I return to this site, I read the last post I've written. I did that today and thought it wasn't half bad. I remember writing it, I had intended it to mark the beginning of my commitment toward mindfulness.  That was April; this is January. I feel like I've failed at it miserably. I get anxious and angry. I get dejected and forget to meditate. I don't follow through well on activities, such as this one, that are good for me and make me happy. One of the tenets of mindfulness training is that practicing is succeeding. There is no failure, and so you should be gentle with yourself, compassionate to yourself, when you don't meet your own expectation. That's a hard one for me. In a weird way, when I'm disappointed in myself, rather than letting negative thoughts go and moving on, I run the script of--whatever it is--an argument, an embarrassing moment, a disappointment of some sort, over and over in my head. I