Chosing new rhythms and learning peace as a practice.

Paradigm shifting is always a tricky thing for me. My head embraces a healthier path easily and with fervor, but my feet tend to stumble along behind it trying keep up, like a person running after a rainbow down a path strewn with giant tree roots and buried boulders. I'm part brilliant rapture and part hapless wreck.

Keeping the vision of what my goal looks like in "real life" (what others call actually interacting with the physical) reminds me of looking at one of those 3D hidden pictures that were so popular in the 90s when I was a teen. If you squinch your eyes just so and relax just enough, suddenly, a whole new vision pops out at you where you never saw it before. Often, it shifts in and out of focus, teasing me. Sometimes, I look for it and comes to me instantly-how could I have never seen it there before, when it's so obvious? Other times, though, especially when I'm tired, I can't see it for the life of me. And so it is with living out a new ideal.

Today's new paradigm (one of them, anyway) is learning to not stress my own soul out by resenting work as a bad thing. There's always a moment near the end of a project that I start to feel tired, but need to do a bit more to finish up, where I tend to turn pessimistic all of a sudden. All if a sudden, I forget what a pleasant time I've been having. Resentment or frustration or fatigue starts to rumble out of my chest and belly, and I'm tempted to indulge in a myopic, petulant "why is it always me?" session. I look around at the clean up and start getting angry at nobody in particular. I get worked up and irritated, and then adrenalin kicks in. Any dream of zen is a fuzzy memory.

Thankfully, today, I managed to have a moment of clarity while I was doing a couple of self-imposed food projects. (blanching and prepping peaches for spiced peach butter and roasting various squashes for freezer storage..a noble, but busy goal. ) I get giddy over fresh, local produce, and it brings me a lot of pleasure to put it up for goodies in cold weather. It makes the food lover in me smile. I was really enjoying myself with the kids, laughing and talking and scooping out seeds for roasting and smelling the amazing smells flying around the kitchen.

All that to say: then, it came to the part of the story where I had to clean everything up again. For whatever reason, rather than becoming harsh and snippy with everyone, it occurred to me that I had a choice in the matter of my mood in this particular moment. (I understand and respect that sometimes, I won't have a choice. I'm not a fan of Pollyanna crap. But, today, I found myself at a crossroads, rather than at the bottom of a well.)

I reminded myself that worked-up adrenalin does terrible things to my body, and mentally recapped the fact that I'd been having a nice time, up until this point. It was a good start for me, and was delighted to not find myself careening helplessly into dark peevishness. Even though it made me blush a little inwardly, I fed myself the script I give to my almost 5yo every day: cleaning up is just part of whatever you're doing, it's not a punishment. As I did it, I breathed out the tension I was holding and rolled my shoulders, and, remarkably, the peace I'd felt during the "creation" part of the process started to come back to me. I might have hummed a little.

I realize that, as a child of one of the recent convenience-driven generations, I'm more than likely spoiled by lack of work, and therefore have a tenuous grasp on what it means to embrace it as a natural (and even enjoyable) part of my daily rhythm. Sure, I get it done, but I don't usually have a very nice time, dammit. I've felt almost entitled to my curmudgeonly attitude in the past.

But then, I see someone who truly does carry a lightness and sense of fun throughout their entire day, rest and work, and it makes me crave the peaceful easiness that they carry their body with. I'd love to think that it's less of an individual talent, and more something a body can learn to do for themselves. They move at a leisurely pace throughout their work, not rushing through, not angry, not exasperated...their spirit looks like water meandering with purpose through the bottom of a gully. There's a calm, haste-less energy about them, and it's contagious. It's usually an aging soul, who carries the layers of wisdom that comes from learning to live slowly.

If I could be so bold as to recognize it in myself, today, just today, for whatever reason, I was nearly that person. Of course, the clarity will be fleeting. I'm already not looking forward to some of tomorrow's necessary doings. But, hopefully, sometime soon, my spirit-muscles will grab onto the memory and embracing a peaceful body will come a little more readily the next time the window opens. Someday, when I have deep-canyon lines etching my face, maybe I'll be that happy old lady who hums while she eats chocolate cake and while she feeds the cat. That idea makes me smile.