Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/EW7c_95BbXY/
“We shake with joy, we shake with grief. What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body.” ~Mary Oliver
Mindfulness is a way of relating to our experience that opens us to the totality of it—that is, we learn to embrace it all, the joy and the heartache. But some experiences are harder to be with.
It’s difficult to be with physical or emotional pain, and we often retreat to the mind in search of distractions. But when we are able to fully be with our experience, something that feels like magic happens.
It was a Thursday morning at 5am when I received news of my mother’s illness. She was septic and in the ICU at her local hospital.
I knew that sepsis was serious, but also that it’s treatable, especially for someone her age (sixty-nine). So after speaking with my aunt, who was with her, I went about my day.
I nagged my kids to put on their shoes, as per usual, then got them off to school and ate breakfast. I had a lot to do that day. I also had plans to help a friend move some boxes to her new apartment. The thought of my mom in the hospital accompanied me like a curious stranger throughout my morning.
It was an odd day in late April. The sun was out, but it was colder than what…
Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/EW7c_95BbXY/
“We shake with joy, we shake with grief. What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body.” ~Mary Oliver
Mindfulness is a way of relating to our experience that opens us to the totality of it—that is, we learn to embrace it all, the joy and the heartache. But some experiences are harder to be with.
It’s difficult to be with physical or emotional pain, and we often retreat to the mind in search of distractions. But when we are able to fully be with our experience, something that feels like magic happens.
It was a Thursday morning at 5am when I received news of my mother’s illness. She was septic and in the ICU at her local hospital.
I knew that sepsis was serious, but also that it’s treatable, especially for someone her age (sixty-nine). So after speaking with my aunt, who was with her, I went about my day.
I nagged my kids to put on their shoes, as per usual, then got them off to school and ate breakfast. I had a lot to do that day. I also had plans to help a friend move some boxes to her new apartment. The thought of my mom in the hospital accompanied me like a curious stranger throughout my morning.
It was an odd day in late April. The sun was out, but it was colder than what…
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