Witness
I am a witness to my thoughts.
Blake and I started fresh in South Carolina after leaving our jobs, packing up all we own, and saying goodbye to all we know. My experience is in international education, which isn’t as robust in Charleston as I would have hoped- yet. So advancing my career will come in its own time, not on my ego driven timeline. Therefore, while my path continues to unfold and opportunities arise, and as I rebuild my community by making connections and putting myself out there, I find that I have had a lot more time on my hands. More than I’ve had in a long time. Which has meant more yoga(!), more reading, more time with Toro, and also more time being tuned in to me.
With a busy day, the chatter in the mind is constant, but the multitude of tasks take away from the awareness of our thoughts. Now, I try to practice Dharana, focused attention, to all that I do through the day: cooking a meal, drinking a cup of coffee, exercising, job searching, walking Toro, and so on. In today's world, Dharana can be an obstacle since we've glorified busyness and multitasking. Being present can, and will, require gentle reminders to yourself to return to the task on hand and quiet the mind or still the hands that wish to wander. This practice of going about my day with mindfulness and awareness is a challenge, and some days are better than others. I've spent most of my adult life trying to be efficient and effective through multi-tasking and rushing, so it will take time to break old habits.
With this added attention, I've noticed my self talk. I notice the shame, fear, and judgement laced into my observations. As I walk Toro, I gratefully take in the beautiful architecture I pass by and the palm trees overhead, but soon enough my mind is wondering why I haven't received any email responses from the multitude of jobs I have applied for. This then leads me to check my phone just to be sure if I have any emails. I begin to equate the absence of a red marker on my mail app with my professional worth. I become frustrated that my value is discerned from a single PDF that is submitted into a black hole of online applications. I then question the point of my degree, the years of experience, and the connections I've made in the past decade. I'm no longer noticing the sun shining overhead, my dog Toro trotting along, or my body moving on the earth.
This subtle shift happens so often throughout the day we may not notice it. Yet the repercussions for negative thoughts are noticeable. Those toxic seeds are planted into our thoughts, words, actions, and behaviors. They bloom in how to treat ourselves and all living things.
If you tell yourself you're not enough, then you will never allow yourself to feel whole.
So as a witness to my thoughts, I'm beginning to trace them. To see where they came from, what fuels them, what triggers them.
The more awareness I bring to my self talk, the easier it is for me to identify when it turns negative. There is a visceral reaction to the comparison, jealousy, and judgment seeping into my thoughts. I immediately feel heavy, my heart sinks, and my brow furrows. These red flags go off and I'm reminded to re-direct.
We're raised with manners for how to respect others. The golden rule was engrained in us at an early age. If the standard is to be kind to others, in our actions and our words, shouldn't that be the standard for how we treat ourselves? Why is the self excluded from the golden rule.
In yoga we climb the eight limbs, one of them being the Yamas. The Yamas are ethical behaviors we should have towards others and ourselves. One of the Yamas is Ahimsa, meaning "non-hurting". While we practice not causing harm to others, it begins first and foremost with ourselves.
Imagine the ripple effect if we individually became kinder to ourselves. What a difference it would make if we glorified mindfulness rather than busyness, cherished moments instead of things, and spoke to ourselves the way we speak to our loved ones. Perhaps, we'd start to all remember that we are connected in a space without judgement and attachment.
The race to be the best, have the best, and do the best continues on; however, eventually the race will come to an end. In the meantime, I'll bow out of the race so I can focus on feeling my personal best, by being present, kind, and open. I'll stop and smell the roses on my walks with Toro, but I'll also stop and notice my thoughts.
light Heart. light Spirt. light Body. light Mind.
Blake and I started fresh in South Carolina after leaving our jobs, packing up all we own, and saying goodbye to all we know. My experience is in international education, which isn’t as robust in Charleston as I would have hoped- yet. So advancing my career will come in its own time, not on my ego driven timeline. Therefore, while my path continues to unfold and opportunities arise, and as I rebuild my community by making connections and putting myself out there, I find that I have had a lot more time on my hands. More than I’ve had in a long time. Which has meant more yoga(!), more reading, more time with Toro, and also more time being tuned in to me.
With a busy day, the chatter in the mind is constant, but the multitude of tasks take away from the awareness of our thoughts. Now, I try to practice Dharana, focused attention, to all that I do through the day: cooking a meal, drinking a cup of coffee, exercising, job searching, walking Toro, and so on. In today's world, Dharana can be an obstacle since we've glorified busyness and multitasking. Being present can, and will, require gentle reminders to yourself to return to the task on hand and quiet the mind or still the hands that wish to wander. This practice of going about my day with mindfulness and awareness is a challenge, and some days are better than others. I've spent most of my adult life trying to be efficient and effective through multi-tasking and rushing, so it will take time to break old habits.
With this added attention, I've noticed my self talk. I notice the shame, fear, and judgement laced into my observations. As I walk Toro, I gratefully take in the beautiful architecture I pass by and the palm trees overhead, but soon enough my mind is wondering why I haven't received any email responses from the multitude of jobs I have applied for. This then leads me to check my phone just to be sure if I have any emails. I begin to equate the absence of a red marker on my mail app with my professional worth. I become frustrated that my value is discerned from a single PDF that is submitted into a black hole of online applications. I then question the point of my degree, the years of experience, and the connections I've made in the past decade. I'm no longer noticing the sun shining overhead, my dog Toro trotting along, or my body moving on the earth.
This subtle shift happens so often throughout the day we may not notice it. Yet the repercussions for negative thoughts are noticeable. Those toxic seeds are planted into our thoughts, words, actions, and behaviors. They bloom in how to treat ourselves and all living things.
If you tell yourself you're not enough, then you will never allow yourself to feel whole.
So as a witness to my thoughts, I'm beginning to trace them. To see where they came from, what fuels them, what triggers them.
The more awareness I bring to my self talk, the easier it is for me to identify when it turns negative. There is a visceral reaction to the comparison, jealousy, and judgment seeping into my thoughts. I immediately feel heavy, my heart sinks, and my brow furrows. These red flags go off and I'm reminded to re-direct.
We're raised with manners for how to respect others. The golden rule was engrained in us at an early age. If the standard is to be kind to others, in our actions and our words, shouldn't that be the standard for how we treat ourselves? Why is the self excluded from the golden rule.
In yoga we climb the eight limbs, one of them being the Yamas. The Yamas are ethical behaviors we should have towards others and ourselves. One of the Yamas is Ahimsa, meaning "non-hurting". While we practice not causing harm to others, it begins first and foremost with ourselves.
Imagine the ripple effect if we individually became kinder to ourselves. What a difference it would make if we glorified mindfulness rather than busyness, cherished moments instead of things, and spoke to ourselves the way we speak to our loved ones. Perhaps, we'd start to all remember that we are connected in a space without judgement and attachment.
The race to be the best, have the best, and do the best continues on; however, eventually the race will come to an end. In the meantime, I'll bow out of the race so I can focus on feeling my personal best, by being present, kind, and open. I'll stop and smell the roses on my walks with Toro, but I'll also stop and notice my thoughts.
light Heart. light Spirt. light Body. light Mind.
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