The End of the Physical Year...

During the past 8 years in the private sector, I heard phrases such as “year end” or “quarterly report”. So last week I was pleasantly amused to be back in “fiscal year”-land where the mispronunciation, and the title of this entry, put a smile on my face. That smile though is a new thing for me. Misused and mispronounced words used to drive me up a wall; it was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. Now, however, I’m trying to be more mindful and not take up brain space with annoyances whenever possible. This does not provide George with a free pass – for some reason, the way he says nuclear, among other words (and actions, like that smirk or the way he walks), will simply always make me cringe.

Now let me begin by saying that I know I’m not perfect when it comes to grammar and word use. There are still words that get me every time so I just don’t use them. That being said, I hope you’ll indulge me while I get just a few of the more common irritants off of my chest once and for all. This can be somewhat of a “letting go” process for me. And perhaps you have some that you’d like to add? Feel free to comment!

• Axe instead of ask
• Pacific vs. specific
• Erf or berf for earth and birth
• Gambit instead of gamut as in "the whole gambit"
• Verb-subject agreement issues like the sign on a co-worker's wall that reads "fried food and sugar is the devil"

Being critical like this apparently begins early as witnessed on MARTA a couple of weeks ago. There were two sixth graders from Woodward Academy on the very first train car with me. I usually ride up front as I tend to get “car sick”. Plus, I can watch the MARTA train operator ignore the “no food or drink” signs that are posted every two feet as he drinks his soda fountain beverage, eats his chicken wings, and throws the bones out of the window (okay, the bones out the window only happened once). For those of you who have been in the first car on a MARTA train, you may know that the door between the operator and the passengers is a flimsy piece of metal with gaps all around it that are not sealed. Thus one can also hear the operator chatting on his/her cell phone every now and again. Anyway, we were coming up on the Martin Luther King Memorial station and the operator announced over the intercom “next stop, King Memoria”. The sixth grade girl said to her friend “did she just say ‘Memoria’?” And her friend said “yes, I think she forgot the ‘L’.” Later these two youngsters went on to discuss whether or not the train operator got paid a lot of money because no one else wanted to do that job. Once again, I think that’s a story for another day….

Happy Anniversary Doc. B.!

Photo Courtesy of: Marla Collum, Naubinway, MI

Mindfulness...

Photo of Thich Nhat Hanh: Courtesy of Plum Village Practice Center, France

IAMHOME

Doc. B. talked me into attending a three hour seminar on “mindfulness” this past Sunday. Let me be honest; I really did have an interest in being present (pun intended), but it sounds better to say my arm was twisted right out of the socket. I’m glad that I went. To stay in keeping with one of my Blog purposes, a synchronicity occurred. The seminar facilitator read a poem by Rumi. Keep in mind that I had never heard of Rumi before Doc. B. suggested we give that name to our new cat. I’ll include the specific poem at the end of this posting.

More than the synchronicity though was the content covered during the three hours. For those of you that know me well, you may be aware of my tendency toward worrying. My mind continually “rumi"nates on what has already happened, what might happen, what I should have done and what I should do. I’m guessing that any techniques I can learn to quiet my worries can only make me feel more peaceful. During the seminar, I did acknowledge that letting go of the way my mind has operated since I was very young could be a challenge. Also, why would I want to let go of something that has gotten me this far along in my life? I guess that gets into another item on my long list of psychological issues – control. That could be a long entry in this blog – I’ll spare you that (for now).

I was “worried” that in order to become more mindful, I’d have to meditate. In this attention deficit disorder world, I couldn’t imagine how I could make room for meditation in my life. Now, medication, I could make room for. I’m kidding of course, though the thought has crossed my mind on many occasions. What I found pleasantly surprising is that being mindful is not all about meditation per se. Yes, it’s a large part of it, but it’s not all of it. Think about just simply being more aware of what is going on around you or within you, acknowledging it for what it is and moving on to the next moment or thought. Am I eating and actually tasting each bite of food or am I inhaling it like a tub of popcorn at the over-priced movie theatre? Am I listening to all of the sounds around me or am I only being annoyed by the thumping bass of the music in the car that just drove by while I was trying to enjoy a quiet afternoon on the front porch? Can I learn to welcome it all in - the good, the bad and the somewhere in between? It’s worth a shot.

“The Guest House” by Rumi

This being human is a guesthouse.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness
comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight . . .

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.