Last summer, I traveled downstate to a yoga retreat center outside of Gaylord to visit my friend Allison's sister, Angie. Angie was working as a cook--among other things. The center was actually a beautiful community--a retreat center, yes, but home to many who live in the surrounding woods or travel once a month to recharge.
Allison and I headed out after one of the toughest weeks I'd had in a while. I was going non-stop--no breathers, no real time for self-care. I was worn, frazzled, depleted.
Still in the thick of working out my back issues, I sat out on morning yoga, electing instead to get an extra hour of sleep in a peaceful place. I also sat out on the 'lab' part of the Organic Farming workshop we attended, volunteering to help Angie out in the kitchen. (Chopping copious amount of vegetables = therapy.)
Instead of bumming about missing out, both of which I had been doing a lot of lately, I told myself I would spend that time and energy focusing on the wonder it was that I ended up at the center on the close of a very trying week. If my mind wandered toward worry, as it is primed to do during stressful times, I chose to focus on other lucky coincidences, like the fact that Allison moved back to Marquette as another close friend left, leaving me vulnerable in his wake. Turns out the center had its own share of lucky stories: Angie met a friend downstate whose family has close ties to the center, where she ended up working years later. That friend, a calm, kind and funny girl, happened to be visiting the center that same weekend, and was full of interesting stories about the center's history.
Instead of bumming about missing out, both of which I had been doing a lot of lately, I told myself I would spend that time and energy focusing on the wonder it was that I ended up at the center on the close of a very trying week. If my mind wandered toward worry, as it is primed to do during stressful times, I chose to focus on other lucky coincidences, like the fact that Allison moved back to Marquette as another close friend left, leaving me vulnerable in his wake. Turns out the center had its own share of lucky stories: Angie met a friend downstate whose family has close ties to the center, where she ended up working years later. That friend, a calm, kind and funny girl, happened to be visiting the center that same weekend, and was full of interesting stories about the center's history.
As we sat down to one of Angie's delicious meals, one of the community members asked Allison and I, "So, do you think your sister landed in a good place?" I marveled at the phrasing of that--"landed in a good place". Landing implies some kind of take off or initiative, yes, but also, to me at least, the phrase implies some kind of randomness, some kind of luck, some kind of destiny. Also: having been there just over 30 hours, how could we tell? Was that even enough time to judge?
But it was a good place, you could tell. Kind, encouraging smiles for newcomers. Thoughtful conversation at the dinner table. Genuine expressions of gratitude for small acts, like setting the table or making flowers out of the bottom of peppers for the veggie tray.
Before that trip, I was usually good to meditate for maybe 3 minutes. One of the employees made a comment about mindfulness that got me from 3 minutes to 15 minutes. He said, "Every time your mind strays, just gently bring yourself back to your breathing, no judgement, no frustration, just bring yourself back." Very powerful words.
His words came back to me as I went about my first day of work today. In the past, being the new girl has made me feel very insecure, very anxious. My reaction is to turn inward and--you guessed it--worry. But today, instead of judgement or worry, I focused on gratitude. I wondered. I marveled. I shook a lot of hands. I took notice of kind smiles for newcomers and thoughtful lunch table conversation. And I think I landed in a good place.
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