Not that I don’t let fly some cuss words when the other driver does something flamingly dangerous like pulling out from the off ramp when on coming traffic has precious little time and distance to brake and avoid a collision. Even so, instead of cussing in a rage, now I take an opportunity to be an observer. “You didn’t ever pretend to look both ways before you pulled out, did you? Lucky, I was looking out for us.”
When rage overcomes me because of my own stupidity or others’ or I sense the welling up of the deep, cold, damp abyss of hopelessness, I am inclined to sit, find stillness, notice the stillness, acknowledge my connectedness to Earth and the community. And I breathe – in for five, hold for five, out for seven, hold for five – and the pattern and counting exclude all else from consideration and calm creeps in first a trickle, then a stream, then the spilling over at the ancient dam. And peace drifts up and surges into my consciousness. And my spirit – sweet amber orb – shimmers. And I know that this moment is all there is. And I choose stillness, calm, peace, and spirit. If there are real issues and conflicts to reckon with, I’ll do better coming from that place than from the rage or the hopelessness.
Happy Trails …
— Marmar
When rage overcomes me because of my own stupidity or others’ or I sense the welling up of the deep, cold, damp abyss of hopelessness, I am inclined to sit, find stillness, notice the stillness, acknowledge my connectedness to Earth and the community. And I breathe – in for five, hold for five, out for seven, hold for five – and the pattern and counting exclude all else from consideration and calm creeps in first a trickle, then a stream, then the spilling over at the ancient dam. And peace drifts up and surges into my consciousness. And my spirit – sweet amber orb – shimmers. And I know that this moment is all there is. And I choose stillness, calm, peace, and spirit. If there are real issues and conflicts to reckon with, I’ll do better coming from that place than from the rage or the hopelessness.
Happy Trails …
— Marmar
I gotta go sit on my cushion! Whew!
ReplyDeleteRage and/or hopelessness usually take me by surprise, at which point it's too late to meditate. Maybe. I don't know. I wish I thought of my "spirit" as a "sweet amber orb," but I think I've pegged it as a glum purple cloud with some lightning bolts. Beautiful thoughts, though! (Macoff)
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