LightBears

Dear Readers, my sincere apologies for the lengthy gap between my last blog, “The Letter I Was Afraid to Send”, and this one! Life has been busy, and very fruitful between then and now. I changed my location, said goodbye to many things, and hello to many new ones. Refreshing!

Yesterday marked the official start of Fall, the Autumn Equinox. A magical time; as some would say, “all tides break and form at the Equinox.” Which was a way of saying, change is abundant in the flow of the Universe, and the unexpected is always possible. In the old days when life revolved around an agrarian calendar, this would have been the time of the second harvest, when the last of the crops were brought in and preserved, the last of the grain and hay laid safely away for the coming winter months, and for one day, the hours of daylight would equal the hours of night: equal day and equal night, from Latin, “Equi” [equal] and “nox” [night].

As we know, the world is full of changes. It is like riding a teeter-totter, not being quite sure where your point of balance is, and trying to retain your center as best you can. In times of change, I think it’s essential to bring our focus to bear on what is going well in our lives, on the little miracles that make life possible: shelter; food; running water; friends or family; clothes to keep us warm; and other such things.

From a personal perspective, I have been following a philosophical path that I call the gratitude practice. This is where I do just what I mention above: focusing on the little miracles. When I awake in the morning, I take a moment to give thanks to my heart and lungs for doing their work in helping keep me alive; to my feet, knees and legs when I stand up out of bed; to my bathrobe, which takes the chill out of my body as I leave the warmth of my bed; to my little coffee maker that dutifully (and thankfully) runs when turned on, dispensing a cup of hot coffee just for me.

You get the picture, I hope: I am thankful that my taste buds can taste the yummy goodness of the coffee — I have a friend who cannot taste or smell at the moment due to illness — and thus, my awareness of the blessing of taste. I am thankful that the light is coming in the window, whether it is sunny or gray, it’s nice to have thee dark of night replaced by the light of day. And so on.

By focusing on these minutiae, I am shifting my awareness from what is or might go wrong, to what is going well, from a focus on lack to a focus on abundance, even if it is just a tiny, simple thing. Since I have been practicing gratitude, I have found that my general mood is lighter, and happiness comes more easily to me.

Having spent the majority of my life in a state of depression, I am intensely grateful not to feel that way just now. Every day with a reason to smile, is a bonus and not something that I take for granted.

Now, in sharing my personal practice with you, let me be clear about a very important thing: I do not deny what is going on in the world around me; it is inescapable, because I inhabit this world, it is where I live as do you, and things are not rosy and wonderful.

I do not deny the tragic. I mourn, as do others, when mourning is called for. I sob, when tears are called for. I grieve, when grief is called for.

And at the same time, I look around me for things to give me a reason to smile: the silly squirrel digging for nuts, having forgotten where they were buried months ago. The antics of the kitten playing with a ribbon; the sight of my neighbor on her porch nearby; the way the light falls in such a way that it illuminates the graceful fluttering of a falling leaf.

These things are also part of my reality. The positive, the neutral, the negative — the yin and yang of life — I have a choice as to where I place my focus, which has an impact on how I feel.

The hard things, the sad things, they are still there. And action is needed; my personal energy is needed, whether to assist in lifting someone’s burden, or lightening their load, or to simply smile and say good morning, from one human being to another.

I am one person, I can do just what I am capable of doing; but I am more effective when I am coming from an internal place of gratitude and kindness, of calm stillness. In my heart, I keep a place where hope abides like a gentle fire in a fireplace where one can warm their hands in the chill air.

And so dear reader, I have come to the end for now of what I have to share with you. But, just for now. I plan to return again, and tell you some more as it occurs to me.

Feelings are transient, as is life. Knowing that life is transient, like the leaves on the trees as they turn from green to red to brown, let me remind you that you always have a choice: where will you place your focus today?

As I bid you farewell for now, I encourage you to consider how you, too, can make room in your heart for hope.