News from Jules | 04.26.2023 | Keeping Perspective
Even after I moved several tables away early last Wednesday morning, I could still hear every word of the conversation. And the Pandora playlist playing overhead. And the heels shuffling on the concrete floor past the pastry counter. And the clack-clack-clacking of the barista cranking the lever for an espresso.
Mixed with the strong scent of the coffee, the light angling in the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the warm air wafting through the bakery doors, my senses were completely overwhelmed.
At that moment, Crema, my Portland coffee shop sanctuary of well over a decade, felt like a microcosm of city life.
Too much stimulation, not enough calm. What used to feel “normal” now felt unbearable.
Give me a couple of months in the forest and my central nervous system resets. Once again attuned to its baseline and well aware of any stress, like a Richter scale measuring earthquake activity.
Exactly why my body has been whispering to me for years: Go live closer to nature, to your true nature.
As soon as my Dad walked up to the table, I jumped up and wrapped both arms around him for a comforting hug, not just a hello. We went to the counter to order our favorite drinks and treats—Sencha tea and chocolate croissant for me, latté and muffin for him—then settled in to catch up since our last coffee, the day before I left Portland two months ago.
Where to start?
The four-hour drive over the slushy, icy mountain, the grey, overcast weather, the umpteenth bed I’d slept in this year…each thought that formed into a sentence got caught in my throat before I could open my lips. Instead, I took another bite of croissant, another sip of tea.
I’m not unhappy. I know how blessed I am, how abundant life is. When life is so good, why was every thought a complaint?
My Dad asked about my day trip to Mount Saint Helens—the reason why I was passing through town for 16 hours—so I started recounting the day but before I knew it the long drive, the clouds, the fatigue had all slipped out. Oops.
I took a deep breath to pause my tiny violin playing, and tried to change the subject by asking my Dad how his week was going?
I heard about his pinched nerve, the rain, and missed cycling training.
Oh no, my complaining seemed contagious.
This is the type of teachable moment that my meditation teachers suggest we can use to practice the practice.
I quickly ran through one of my favorite mindfulness tools, RAIN, in my mind:
Recognize: I’m throwing a pity party!
Acceptance: I guess I need attention.
Investigate: Why? What’s really going on here?
Non-identify: Life is busy right now. Being busy is tiring.
Aha! I didn’t actually need my Dad’s attention or commiseration. I needed to heed my overtired body desperately trying to get my own attention with every one of my senses—not the least my gut asking the week before whether nine days straight of hosting, working, and traveling was realistic.
Now this made sense.
My body was struggling to self-regulate and my choices weren’t helping. Not enough rest. Too little calm. Lacking focus. In short supply of deep connection.
This actual scarcity is a slippery slope to a scarcity mindset where nothing is ever enough.
A lens I lived with for far too long. And an easy habit to slip back into. Just like complaining, comparing, expecting, and assuming.
At this moment, living closer to nature and closer to my true nature—intuitive, creative, wild, and free—allows my body to better regulate, to sustain well-being, and to catch myself when I’m tired and slipping into those mindless habits.
My noticing and curiosity brought me fully back to the moment: enjoying favorite treats while sitting in the presence of someone I love.
To paraphrase Kelly McGonigal, a health psychologist and author of The Upside of Stress, from Session 6 of the Healthy Habits Course in the Ten Percent Happier Meditation App:
Self-compassion and self-care are about being the boldest, bravest version of yourself who’s really willing to see what your goals are, willing to acknowledge your own pain, and willing to go to the place where you are going to do what is necessary to improve your circumstances and improve your well being.
What is there to actually complain about?
Not a whole lot!
May you pay close attention to your body this week.
Love,
Jules
Photo Credit: Jesse Temple