So part of my mindful practice is, well, practice. What I mean is there’s lots of time I am not mindful, catch myself at it, and gently steer back towards it.
I can be incredibly tough on myself, which often is not a good thing. And sometimes I fixate on things. I’ll have an unexpected something-or-other come up, good or bad, and firmly hook myself to it, riding off in an emotional swell of joy or despair.
My right sneaker, and the rainbow stripe sock I have on with it.
In the past day or so, I’ve done that a bunch of times. First I realized that our retirement savings are in even better shape than I’d realized. Cue joy upswing. Then I found out about a big car repair we have to do. Cue angry frustration. I made some progress on a challenging work problem. You guessed it - upswing. Realized potential issue with said work problem. And… down again.
Exhausting.
Okay, so what’s that have to do with my sneaker?
Well, it’s this. Part of mindful practice is making the conscious decision to stay present. Staying present doesn’t mean not feeling things. Just the opposite. You do feel them. You lean into them. To use a food metaphor, you don’t nibble or sip at the feeling you’re consuming. You take a big bite, a big gulp of it.
And then you swallow it, and take the next.
I woke up this morning with a bit of fatigue over my day yesterday, all that up and down. And as I was getting dressed, I decided to reach for my sneakers. I haven’t worn them in ages. That’s because of my lymphedema. I’ve become quite used to these shoes not fitting well at all anymore.
But, I’ve really become good about wearing my compression socks most days. I use my lymphedema pump at least once a week. So really, I’ve mostly got it under control.
Which is why when I went to get dressed, I decided to see if they fit well. When I first went to pull them on, I had a little anticipatory disappointment cued up. But I didn’t need it. They fit great!
Cue joy.
But this time around, I felt the joy (heck, and took a picture of my foot for this post), and then made the conscious decision to let it sort of slip out of my mental fingers.
Which, because it was deliberate, felt good, satisfying.
Embracing practice is a healthy thing.
This certainly wasn’t a unique experience. I’ve lost my practice before, and picked it back up again, countless times. I’m going to do it again, without doubt too.
Like my shoes this morning, that’s fitting.