What's Your Adventure?
9/29/2015
"What is your adventure?" My former boss and current mentor, the wildly astute Gigi Johnson, recently posed this question on Facebook. She's says that when she meets people now, she asks them about their adventure instead of asking "what do you do?" or "where are you from?" as her opening salvo. "How do you present your path when you meet people? Are you a name, job title, and city? Are you a noun, verb, or journey?" I love everything about this. For years I've held disdain for the requisite "what do you do?" interrogation, as if somehow your whole life story, everything that you are, can be boiled down to a job title. Maybe for some, what you do as a profession really is your whole life. But for most of us, I think it's only one small part of a much larger 3D puzzle that makes up each of our personal worlds. For me lately, the "what I do?" question has required a complicated response. As far as the basic question goes, what I "do" is nothing because I don't have a full-time job. I make some mind-numbing side money driving for Lyft, but that's not what I "do." What I do is my adventure. I write this blog. I travel as much as I can afford. I hike as often as my body will allow. I do yoga and meditate for my sanity. I volunteer for TreePeople in forest care and the Sierra Club in political advocacy. I’m looking into becoming a volunteer naturalist, leading nature walks for school children. I’ve even found some paid environmental educator training programs that would let me go live in the the Santa Monica Mountains and Channel Islands National Park for a time. In the grand scheme, my goal is to spend my time bettering my soul, so that when I do find something to "do" again (you know, a job), it will be the right thing to do -- something that allows me to follow my passion and enriches my mind. So another thing I do is apply to real and meaningful jobs with environmental organizations that should help me to find a real and meaningful life. Or rather, continue the real and meaningful life I'm attempting to lead. Hopefully what you do is something amazing, but hopefully your adventure means even more than that. What’s your adventure? There really is a lot of beauty in the world. But there's also a lot of shit.
It seems like they both come at us in waves - we find ourselves in periods of beauty that make us feel sky high, only to be dragged back down to earth, landing in a pile of shit. These ups and down are natural and inevitable, and I know that without the darkness we'd never, really, truly be able to appreciate the happy glow of the light. But while we're there, in the beauty or the shit or some place in-between, we often struggle to see the big picture. When we're in the shit it's so easy to feel overwhelmed and make rash decisions. We’re angry, emotional, and unsettled, so we forget that there is still beauty. When we're in the beauty we too often take it for granted. We enjoy the moment, but tend to forget that our future will hold even more beautiful moments, or that the shit will inevitably return. Lately, I've confronted an internal battle between the mindfulness of now and the big picture that can be so unknown. I appreciate the fact that it's best to stay present, to accept my emotions as they are and for whatever they are, instead of allowing them to overtake me. It's always best to live in the moment rather than constantly wonder and worry about the future. But I also think there is some value in taking a broad look forward, and even backward, from time to time. Imagine you're fully within the shit. Difficult changes, bad decisions, work stress, struggling with people coming and going in your life. You might actually be somewhere in there right now so you don’t have to even imagine it. I'm there from time to time myself, we all are, more than most of us choose to admit. Being present in that shit is a terrible place to be. As we try to mindfully accept and process our feelings rather than let them overtake us, that acceptance can make us feel even more shitty. Like it’s the new norm - this is it, learn to live with it. On the other hand, imagine you're fully within the beauty. You're surrounded by good friends, smiling faces, beautiful vistas, and experiencing life altering inspirational events. You might actually be there right now so you don't even have to imagine it. I've been here a lot lately. But even while we're there we don't always appreciate it. Acknowledging the fact that the shit is still out there and will inevitably return, doesn't have to take you out your moment of beauty, instead it gives you the gift of gratefulness. Acknowledging that there are more unimaginable moments of beauty yet to come in your life, encourages you to chase that beauty in all your decisions, to find your better life. The idea of not being present in these types of moments actually gives me solace, and not in some escapist way. I look back at all the shit I've experienced in life and realize that this terrible thing, like all things, will eventually pass. I look back at all the beauty I've experienced and realize that this beautiful thing, like all things, will come around again. I look at the big picture - the entirety of both beauty and shit in my life - past, present, and future - and I feel grateful for having gone on the ride. I realize this idea contradicts some of what I've said about being "present" on this blog, but I'm not one to stand still. Just as we move forward in life, through both beauty and shit, our mind and our heart and our spirit moves forward as well, learning from it all. There's something wonderful about thinking of the big picture like this and using it to your advantage. It makes your present moment a bit more...chill. If it’s a beautiful moment, seeing the big picture helps you avoid that nostalgic melancholy feeling you get when it’s over. If it’s a shitty moment, the big picture makes your problems seem a little smaller, a little more manageable. From either position in life, the big picture helps you learn how to better appreciate both the beauty and the shit for what they are - just another one of the many moments that together make up you. In this way, looking at the big picture rather than always shrinking everything down to the right now, is just another form of mindfulness. It helps you to accept and observe and process your emotions, instead of wallowing in them until they make you feel worse. Mindfulness isn't just about being present and leaving it at that, it's also about seeing the big picture and understanding that this present right here, it too shall pass. I want to blend both the mindfulness and the big picture together. In a way that helps me stay chill during the angry moments and feel appreciation during the amazing moments. In a way that helps me drop the things that hold me back like worry, doubt, and regret. In a way that helps me accept both the beauty and the shit. In a way that, in the end, makes me a better person. There Are No Consequences
6/17/2015
There are no consequences.
Alright, I know that's a bold thing to say, but bear with me for a minute. A consequence is the negative repercussion of a mistake. Dictionary.com calls it an "end-result." That's basic. I get it. But life itself is always changing. What seems like a negative consequence to a bad decision right now, could end up being a positive conquest in the future. Why? Because there is no "end" result, it's all about the path. When you make a mistake and fail, that failure doesn't fall into a void, you learn a lesson and gain experience. While the failure might be difficult, it still teaches you something about yourself. It teaches you how to do better next time. What you call a consequence, I call school. Now of course, there are real consequences out there for the truly stupid and cruel decisions, like jumping off a cliff or committing murder (for some obvious examples). But I'm talking about the everyday decisions we make that turn out to be wrong - the miscalculation or spur of the moment choice that once in a while leads to true ramifications, but mostly just gives us an excuse to fabricate internal strife and regret. Trial and error is the process by which we learn. If our goal in life is to grow, to become a better friend, a better photographer, a better musician, a better businessman, a better parent, a better partner, or really just a better person, then consequences are how we learn to grow up. So I'm calling it out...there are no consequences. There are just ups and downs, arguments and adulations, accidents and achievements, examples and advancements. Consequence as we know is the path to success, as long as you choose to use it that way. All By My Self-Conscious
5/12/2015
I'm on a trip all alone, so why do I still care what others think?
A lot of us have this monster inside us. It tells us we need to impress, have it together, look good, get the right haircut, the perfect body, the nicest car, the sweetest setup. When we're out in public the monster growls at us. It tells that us we just said something stupid...or our lives are a mess...or they're hotter...and younger...and tanner. I have the monster sometimes. He's a bitch. I see him laugh at me when someone takes my picture and I look goofy. I hear him criticize me when I look at a mirror and see my little belly. I feel his eyes judge as I walk past anonymous people on the trail, even though I don't know them and will assuredly never see them again. But what difference does it make? What difference do they make. What difference does the monster make? He makes us self-conscious. He stresses us out. He takes us out of the present moment and throws us into doubt. One thing that I've started to appreciate about being alone is that I'm in charge. Everything I do on a given day - if I sleep-in or wake up early...if I take one too many hikes or just laze at my camp...if I watch every nerd movie at the National Parks visitors center, and I always do, trust - that is all up to me. So on this trip, who cares what some random person on the trail thinks of me? Being alone is helping me let it go. I can wear what I want, look how I want, do what I want, be whoever I want. They don't know the real me. So what difference does it make? Monster be damned. Back in the real world, I could use more of this. Less vanity and more being me. Less concern of what I could be doing, or could have done, and more actual doing. Less foolishness and more mindfulness. The Hardest Goodbye
5/6/2015
The hardest goodbye isn't enforced.
It isn't expected or coerced. Its not like the end of high school, Where the path's been chosen for you. It's nothing like leaving your family home, When you're longing to be on your own. No, the hardest goodbye comes by choice. When you need to go find your voice. When you're leaving something you enjoy. When you know goodbye will disappoint. You leave because staying is dishonest. You leave even though it's totally the harshest. The hardest goodbye is what you have to do When standing still keeps you too... Too complacent. Too cautioned. Too despondent. Path's insolvent. Never reaching. Rarely seeking. Always waiting. Sitting, hoping... Hoping it'll all just come to you. Now it's time to see a different view. With the pain of goodbye comes redemption. Starting anew, a mini rebellion. Leaving is an act of bravery, Because it's not safe to be, Never alone with only me. Even though it feels like hell, When I say goodbye I'll find myself. By return I know I'll have harnessed, All the reasons that home is the fondest. The hardest goodbye is a choice I've made. But let's stay strong, 'cause the hello's gonna be great. Dayenu ~ Passover Mindfulness
4/10/2015
I've been lucky enough in my life to learn a lot about Jewish culture and faith through my partner, Jon. His family believes in a contemporary form of Judaism, one that is entirely progressive and endlessly mindful. Dayenu is one of those mindful traditions. On a literal level if means "it would have been enough," but on a progressive level it is a commentary on our modern culture where nothing--not our possessions, our bank accounts, or the food on the dinner plates--seems to be enough. Dayenu asks us to be grateful for all the blessings that surround us, but also to be mindful of injustice in the world and then to do something about it. Such a powerful and important message. The following is from the Herman family Pesach, the book you read (and sing) as a group during the Passover Seder. This Pesach was lovingly prepared, and this passage mindfully selected, by one of my zen inspirations, Phyllis Herman: It would have been enough for God to take us out of Egypt. Keep Exploring
3/27/2015
There's a big bright beautiful world out there.
Why would you want to stand still? There's billions of souls to connect to. Why wouldn't you introduce yourself to the unfamiliar? There's an endless number of cultures to sample. Why would you always do the same basic thing? There's mountains of photos to expose you to new sights. Why wouldn't you try to see them with your own eyes? There's an infinite amount of unshared ideas. Why would you ever think you know it all? There's hundreds of colors in the simplest of objects. Why wouldn't you dare to imagine an entirely new spectrum? Keep searching. Keep meeting. Keep seeing. Keep learning. Keep expanding. Keep exploring. Practice Appreciation
3/20/2015
Published elsewhere on Medium.com/jasonjourneyman There's something about going without that makes you appreciate life more.
Recently, I was holed up, stuck at home for 12 days in intense pain after a tonsillectomy. Because of it, I was forcibly deprived of numerous things: food, water, exercise, and social activities, to name a few. I was definitely, well, going without. Before the surgery, not entirely realizing what I was getting into, but I had some expectations. It kind of felt like I was preparing for a little vacation—a week or so off work, no social pressures. "This is going to be fun!" I thought. I was however a little bit worried about FOMO as well. I don't always do so well when I'm stuck at home with a cold on a Saturday night—I want to be out having fun with everyone else, obviously. Pretty much everything I expected about this experience turned out to be wrong though. It was certainly not a vacation... I was a dazed from medications and suffering from pain, not relaxing in any sense. I didn't have an ounce of FOMO either... going out and seeing friends sounded like torture. I didn't necessarily want to be stuck at home, but there was also no other place I'd rather be. My expectations were way off base, but that left room for the unexpected, and the biggest thing I didn't plan on was how appreciative I would feel when it was all over. The physical pain brought me to a place of sadness and despair that I had never really felt before. But it's always darkest before the dawn. Feeling so incredibly low meant that the next time I was up it would feel that much higher. The happiness and appreciation I felt after returning to my normal schedule was unparalleled. I didn't let the little things bother me, I was just happy to be, happy to see my friends, happy for the ability to eat a sandwich. I stopped feeling FOMO. I had, after all, just spent a few weeks stuck in the house "missing out" on things, and guess what, the world didn't end. I become more confident in my decisions. The forced independence created by having to take care of my sick self, bled into every other independent decision I made. This new perspective of gratefulness I'm feeling is something I want to keep with me, to practice, to reuse again and again in the future. I want to remember this experience for the next time I think life sucks. So here I am, writing it down, building an appreciation memorial. I'm not suggesting you put yourself through a tortuously painful surgery to gain a new perspective. You actually don't need to, because at some point in life we all encounter physical or emotional pain. It takes you to a dark place and it ain't fun. But if you choose, you can use the pain to your benefit, use it as a lesson, use it to inspire. Each up and down in life is an opportunity. With practice, with experience, with mindfulness to understand and process how you feel, you learn how to smooth out the ride. When you're feeling down, take a moment to remember that it will get better. You know it'll get better because you've been there before. Remember? Write it all down, how you're feeling, all the things that are shitty AND all the things for which you're grateful. When you're on the other side, when life is good and you're happy, it's also OK to remember that you will feel pain again. That's OK because that's real. Write it all down, all the good things you're feeling, build your own appreciation memorial. Both the ups and downs of life teach us how to survive. They are a yin and yang—they create balance. So just be yourself, feel your feels, write it all down, learn from it, and remember to appreciate life, every stupid second of it. This article is cross-posted with Elephant Journal: www.elephantjournal.com/2015/04/pain-is-inevitable-suffering-is-optional-handling-physical-pain-with-mindfulness We've all heard the whole “pain is inevitable, suffering is optional” idiom thrown around.
I hear it a lot in yoga, often referring to the emotional pain that comes in life, or perhaps the few seconds of “pain” you feel when you get into a triangle pose after a week away from your practice. Suffering in either situation being a choice. That phrase, as I used to know it, sounds so quaint to me now. Last week I had a tonsillectomy, and for those who've never had one let me tell you, it was one of the worst experiences of my life. I had a terrible recovery, but as with any dark cloud in life there is also a silver lining. The pain/suffering idiom became lodged in my mind, and it was the first time I truly, actually, honestly understood it. The suffering was real, and not in some esoteric yoga way, but in the real-life, excruciating pain way. It was a powerfully important lesson. Pain in all its forms just exists, there’s nothing we can do about it. But how we handle that pain is a choice. We can wallow it until it’s physically and emotionally out of control. Or we can change our perspective on it, see it as a means to an end, and ultimately be in charge of our own happiness. I’m definitely not the first, nor the last person to go through this. I talked to many friends about it beforehand, and those who had their tonsils removed as a child said something like, “It’s not so bad, I just remember eating a lot of ice cream!” Contrast that with those who has the surgery as an adult, who said, unequivocally, “It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life!” So I was warned. I knew what I was getting into. Or at least, I “knew” what I was getting into. I came to learn over the week-plus of recovery that it’s one thing to imagine what the “worst pain in your life” might feel like, and it’s quite another thing to actually feel it. The value of experience cannot be underestimated. In those seven or so days I endured more pain than I could’ve ever imagined, the worst being night four, which seemed illogical (shouldn’t you be on the mend at that point?) but was true. Terribly true. That night the level of constant, throbbing, overwhelming pain—and in the throat which is so central to our everyday life—quite literally broke me. Forget swallowing food or water, it hurt just to breathe. My ears were cauldrons of fire. My jaw had just finished a round in the boxing ring. Speaking one word sent razor blades down my throat. No mindfulness exercise or act of positive thinking was enough. I was bulldozed by regret, “why did I agree to have this surgery?!” Flattened by anger, “you are such an idiot!” Conquered by suffering, “you are so weak!” At the peak of my suffering I briefly considered taking every pill I’d been prescribed, because it just wasn’t worth it anymore. Life was no longer a viable option. Thankfully, that idea was quickly dismissed by the quiet voice of rational thought I could still hear through the white noise of pain and narcotics. That emotional breakdown was a low point in my life. But sometimes it’s at our lowest that we finally learn to look up. At a very basic level, my emotions that night made the physical pain worse. Like so many other things, crying uses your throat. So that was my first realization: by wallowing in my pain I was making the pain stronger. Getting upset by it was actually counterintuitive, because it perpetuated the problem. The same lesson goes for many other parts of life: nerves before public speaking is counterintuitive, because that anxiety can actually cause you to make the verbal mistake you’re so nervous about. Anger at someone when they’ve talked smack is counterintuitive, because that anger causes you to be an asshole which actually encourages a negative persona. At a much broader level, letting myself get dragged down by the pain caused me to lose all hope. This was my most important realization: by wallowing in the pain I was letting the pain win. I had no choice in the matter—the pain existed no matter how many deep breaths I took or vicodins I popped. But the suffering I felt, that was entirely up to me. Instead of suffering I could be mindful about the pain, view it as part of the healing process, a means to a much more positive end, as evidence of my throat repairing itself. Wallowing in any pain—physical, emotional or yogi—and letting that pain drag me down, that is entirely up to me. I had a choice: continue to suffer or make up my mind to be happy. I chose to be happy. The next morning was day five, and I woke up in the same excruciating pain. But I also woke up with a smile, because I knew that in a day or so I would feel relief, in a week I would feel back to normal, and in a month my sleep apnea and constant colds would (hopefully) go away. I woke up with a smile, because I knew it was all downhill cruising from there. I woke up with a smile, because I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I woke up with a smile, because I knew that I no longer had to suffer, and turns out that was really all I needed to know. Show Me Love
2/12/2015
Relationships are complicated and beautiful. Whether it's a buddy, a bestie, a boo, or a bride, relationships are like two magnets--there's a mutual interest that's pulling you together and an eagerness to find out just how close you'll end up. If you're lucky, the act of coming together will lead to love... you know, the strongest binding force we've developed as a species. Relationships are also a work in progress. They're constantly developing, shifting, evolving. There's no sense in worrying about that unknown future, but it's noble to put in an extra effort to foster those relationships so they have their best chance. It's always ok to strive for love. I do a lot of reading about mindfulness (I know, I'm obsessed) and it's pretty common for the things I read to cross over into Buddhist philosophy. Now, I'm no Buddhist, I'm not a lot of things, but I'm of the mindset that no matter what you believe there's a lot of wisdom to be gained from all faiths, all philosophies, all people. Here's a Buddhist philosophy that's particularly on point about relationships: to give is to gain. I think a lot of us go out there looking for a connection, searching for a friendship, waiting for that perfect man to come along. We want people to love us, and of course we do, it feels all warm and fuzzy. But there's a big difference between wanting love and actually being loved. Buddhists believe that in order to truly be loved, you shouldn't waste all your energy looking for it, asking for it, demanding it--you should just show it. It's kind of like karma. It's kind of like that Beatles lyric, "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." It's kind of like being a good person, a loving person, a thoughtful and giving person, and then watching as those same qualities find their way back to you in unexpected ways. The more you demand love from those around you the more you look like an asshole, and assholes don't get a whole lot of love (unless you're Kanye West I guess). So this is my advice to all of you this Valentine's... show your love. *Freely give out your compassion, your appreciation, your smile. *Connect with with the people you want to get to know better. *Be honest and open with those you care about. *Help a friend when they need it. *Laugh with a friend when they need that too. *Tell your significant other that you love them, as often as you possibly can. *Hug, long and hard, like you mean it. Basically, spread love without any expectations of receiving it back. It's then, and only then, that you'll feel real love from those around you. Because real love is infectious and it'll come back to you in spades. The Fear & Folly of the Unknown
2/4/2015
"You have to wait until tomorrow to find out what tomorrow will bring." Our basic animal instinct is to survive. After that, I'd say our basic human instinct is to live. That's not the mere act of being alive, but the much more powerful act of actually living--creating love, exploring our earth, finding a fulfilling path, meeting some amazing souls along the way, and maybe passing down your experience to others who will carry your torch.
Or to say all that in a word: happiness. But there are a lot of obstacles in the way of our path to happiness. There are the obstacles our society has created through social and economic constructs and those we create in our own mind. The problems of society are big picture, and we should all do our part to right those wrongs. But that's not what this blog is really about--this blog is about each of us, individually, doing all we can do make our personal world a better one. One of the biggest obstacles we create for ourselves comes from the world of the unknown. If you think about it, this problem runs deep: fear of what the future might entail leads to worry and anxiety, fear of how our decisions are perceived by others leads to indecisiveness and regret, fear of the how those same decisions will play out in the long-term leads to doubt and second-guessing. I think a lot about the unknown. Sometimes this is good thing--pondering our universe and it's endless possibilities almost hurts your brain, but it's a good hurt. Visualizing yourself in a successful and happy place can give you the positive affirmation you need to help get you there. But spending too much time in the realm of the unknown is a slippery slope. There are only a few precious hours of life we get every day, and spending them lost in a sea of contemplation about what tomorrow may bring--how a particular scenario will play out, or how someone will feel about you in a week, where your relationship will be a year from now--that'll just drive you insane. Worrying about the unknown is a fool's errand where we squander our time attempting to predict the future instead of mindfully focusing on the present. It's a wild goose chase as the mind of today scrambles to try and capture some insight into the mind of tomorrow. And just when we think we've captured the goose--that we've somehow figured it all out--reality comes and plucks the goose away, proving to us once again that all our predictions were totally misguided. We all struggle with the unknown. Those of us whose lives seem stable--relationships, jobs, cars, dogs, white picket fences, 2.5 kids--worry about all that falling apart come tomorrow morning. Those of us whose lives seem to be in flux--breakups, fights, unemployment, financial woes, shared custody--worry how to ever find the relative peace of stability again. And no matter how our lives are perceived by others, most of us don't fall into either camp but rather find ourselves somewhere in between. It's only natural, because in each of our individual pursuits of happiness, there will always be bumps along the way--there will be good times and bad. We can use our time and energy worrying and wallowing in the bad times, or we can take a deep breath and be here now instead. It’s time to think about what we can control in the present and start controlling it. The only way to create a better tomorrow is to use your energy working on a better today. The unknown is a powerful force that can pull us in many unforeseen and unmindful directions, if we let it. So don't let it. Starting right now, make a conscious commitment to set the unknown aside. Let it stay in the darkness until that one day in the future when it's finally real, when it's finally known. And in the meantime, live your best life, be your best self, love all that you can, and understand that being happy here and now does way more to forecast your future than all your best predictions combined. Sleep, or Something Like It
1/8/2015
The last few months have been really rough for me in the sleep department. It's been a roller coaster of both bad nights and good.
Through these ups and downs, however, I've grown. I learned about a lot of specific tools to use for a better night's sleep, of course. But I think more importantly, this experience shined a light on the areas of my mindfulness process I hadn't spent much time exploring before now. And for that I am grateful. One big lesson from this has been that I'm not alone. When I reluctantly bring up my sleep issues with friends, I quickly discover that many people are (or have been) in the same boat. We tend to try and avoid the negative in both real and digital life—we post social media updates about the good news, the smiles, the pretty sunsets, the people we love. That's mostly the case. Not always, but mostly. Even when we're hanging with a friend and they ask "how are ya?", most of the time we stick to the basics. It's only with those certain friends, in those private moments, or when we really feel like laying it all out there on Facebook, that we flip over the pancake and expose our burnt edges. Sleep problems seem to be one of those burnt edges. Not just the periodic bad night's sleep because of too much caffeine. I'm talking about the insomnia, the apnea, the bad backs, the snoring partner struggles. So I thought that rather than "vaguebook" about it, this was an opportunity for me to discuss it openly—to flip over the pancake and expose my own burnt edges. I'm going to talk about the mindfulness struggles it unearthed and the remedies I've come to learn from them, that way when you're having a silently-shitty-sleepy-time, you'll remember you're not totally alone. This struggle isn't new to me—It's often difficult for me to shut off my mind when I get into bed. I relive conversations from the previous day, run through my list for tomorrow, and imagine all sorts of future scenarios for the days/weeks/months/years to come. Because of this, my bed is often a place where I'm terribly UNmindful. The quiet darkness of night turns off the external distractions and leaves my mind alone to spiral inward. I tried various techniques: expensive pillows, eye masks, a sleep fan, meditation, avoiding social media before bed, reading boring literature, melatonin, chamomile, ambien. They all work... kinda-sorta. Even the ambien has a spotty track record. The mind is a powerful muscle, enough to overcome the best that western and eastern medicine has to offer. About three months ago all hell broke loose: I threw out my back and caught a head cold at the same time. The sinus congestion worsened my snoring and I had to sleep flat on my back which exacerbated it even more. It was the perfect storm of physical sleep disruption. And then I was told something frightening: I was choking and gasping for air in my sleep. A test confirmed I indeed had sleep apnea, likely for years. All this time and I never knew I was suffocating myself every night and not getting enough rest as a result. Now my sleep issues were two-fold: there was my crazy mind making it difficult for me to fall asleep and my crazy body making it difficult for me to stay asleep. I'm still exploring my options and looking for ways to cure my sleep apnea to finally get a real night's sleep. We got rid of the white noise fan that was drying out the air and purchased a humidifier. My thoughtful mother got us a sleep machine to replce the noise we're used to and a leg pillow to make side sleeping easier. I'm looking into a CPAP and possibly even tonsil surgery as broader solutions. These bedtime struggles unleashed a slew unmindful emotions—frustration, fear, worry, anger, doubt, regret. A lot of "why me's" and "fuck this's" ensued. My bed was the enemy, sleep was the war, and each night was a new battle. I know the basic tools of mindfulness—I've written about a lot of them here (you might have noticed). But I've also written about my difficulties in sticking to my own advice. With sleep apnea on my mind at every night, I often start to worry about how a restless sleep might effect the next day or about the long-term effects of oxygen deprivation on my body. I worry about future rather than mindfully focus on the present, that particular moment, that night, the only thing I actually have control over. Every struggle, every battle, every moment where feel like I'm miles away from the present, is another opportunity to practice mindfulness. It's a chance to acknowledge it, instead of getting frustrated by it. It's a reminder to BREATHE. Sleep for me is still fraught with difficulties, in fact, this week has been a bad one. But I know that each failure, in all aspects of life, is a lesson on how to succeed the next time. So for me, every night is a lesson in mindfulness, it's another practice round, and the more I practice the better it will get. I'll keep learning with every night's sleep, keep turning toward mindfulness instead of frustration, and then I know, one of these nights, it'll finally sink it. Auld Lang Syne
12/31/2014
The title of the song loosely translates to "old time gone." I always thought the opening line was odd: "should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?" Are you suggesting I end my oldest friendships and pretend they never existed? But the question being asked is rhetorical. The answer to it is no, no you shouldn't forget your true friends. You never should. That question, and indeed the entire song, is a call to mindfulness. It asks you to take a moment as the year is ending to reflect on what is most important to you, on who is most important to you. To remember the challenging times of the past year, we've all had them to varying degrees, but also to remember the love and friendship that made those times a little easier, we've all had those to varying degrees as well. Thank you to all my friends, nay family, who've been there for me in 2014, in good times and bad. You know who you are. I love you. Let's grow auld together. Happy Mindful Holidays
12/22/2014
I'm taking a break from blogging this week, but that doesn't mean I'm taking a break from mindfulness.
This can be a busy and stressful time of year, and a sad time of year if you let it. In the midst of this hectic holiday, take a mindfulness break. Use it as a moment to reflect on the holiday season, on your life, on the year that has passed, on all the people you love. Recognize all that you have to be grateful for. Notice how taking this moment to breathe and reflect makes you feel renewed. Accept all the love that is around you and reject the stress. Happy Holidays friends! Thank you for reading. Scratch Below The Surface
12/4/2014
It's no secret that most people stick to posting positive things on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, and we don't need scientific research to prove the depressive effect that can have on us (though here are some anyway). I'm guilty of being a part of this myself: I post smiling selfies and news about accomplishments, I don't usually take to Facebook to complain. But truth be told, if you scratch below the surface you'll find there's a lot more going on than what you see through the lo-fi photo filter of digital life. I post smiles because they make me happy during the difficult times. I choose to dwell on the good things in life as a cure-all. Glass half full and all that. But on the other hand, there's absolutely nothing wrong with feeling sad. It's completely natural and everyone does sometimes... sometimes a lot... sometimes a lot more than they let off. My point is, if you're feeling blue don't let the happiness of others get you down even more. We all have a lot more going on in our lives than you will ever see on a silly social network. Pull back the curtain and you'll find we're all on this same insane roller coaster called life. |
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blog searchauthorMy name is Jason Wise. Life's all about the journey, man. Find me on Instagram and Facebook. archives
May 2020
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