Space

 It's been glorious autumn weather - leaves turning colour and drifting downwards, morning sun that warms the face and lights the back room golden - such that I have made a habit of taking my coffee out and sitting on the wooden bench outside the kitchen to watch the day break open. 

From the neighbour's garden I can easily see two very tall, majestic trees. Each morning now, it is a little different and today I noticed the branches, close to bare; the birds that have made the trees their home, or their landing spot or mating spot. It has a hypnotic effect on me, and I often find myself spending far more time sitting there than I had meant.

I have had a thing about the word 'space'. When I was guiding meditations, I often found myself using this word, encouraging people to note the space all around them - above them, to either side of them and behind them. The word 'space' has so many meanings. I like to have space to myself in between spending time with others. I like for there to be not too much in a room so there is space to move.

Most of all I like to walk across parkland and look up into the sky and feel the endless space of the sky. Have you ever taken the time to be in awe of the sky above your head, that limitless space that in a way urges you to make space for yourself, to grow and to experience life in all its glory and messiness?

As I sat there this morning, I found the clouds quite glorious. Noting the Earth moving ever so slowly, the clouds moving quietly to one side, I closed my eyes to feel that movement. What a wonder, that we might sit on a seat steadily and yet the world is moving ever so slowly. As are we, moving, never completely still, as the breath demands that we move our bodies in and out in rhythm.

When I opened my eyes, it was as if I was seeing clouds for the first time, and I gasped. They looked just like huge pieces of cotton wool, softly tantalizing awe at the wonder of this planet.  I close my eyes for a moment. Ah, the birds agree.

The benefits of a meditation practice

Often, perhaps once a month, my husband will say to me how different I am now, and he attributes that to my regular meditation practice. I agree. Meditation has provided me with tools that I had not accessed any other way.

It's a bit of a farce really, all that money spent on medical costs and mental health costs, probably often legitimate therapies, but when you consider meditation is virtually free, save a small cost for a group meditation sit or a few classes to get you going, it has been most underrated as a self-help therapy.

Most people who are asked why they have come to a meditation class will say that their minds are full of thoughts. They don't want that. Or, they want to be less anxious.

Meditation is quite simple really. First, you settle the body. Once you begin to pay attention to your breath, the body gets that cue and begins to understand what you want. A body scan works nicely, perhaps starting at the scalp and letting go one bit at a time, all the way down to your toes. Insight Timer gives you a range of guided meditations to try.

Feeling grounded is good, noting where you feet rest on the floor. If you are experiencing anxiety, breathe into the belly.

Once your body is feeling relaxed, noting any painful sections and breathing into those also, letting go, letting go, you can move onto calming your mind, which in fact you have already begun to do, due to the mind body connection.

Become aware of the sensory world. What does it feel like to touch one hand with the other? Is it smooth or rough? What sounds do you hear, faraway or close by, inside the room or out? Perhaps you hear nothing. Enjoy the sound of silence. Can you detect a scent? Explore that. Be curious about the sensory world. Radiate in it. Notice bird song. Notice a plane flying across you. Bring your focus to the world that is often closed off from your awareness and enjoy that.

By now, you will have noticed thoughts going by, perhaps as fast as city traffic, or just floating by like a cloud. Take one mind step back and be the quiet, silent observer. What is actually going on? Did you notice every thought has a beginning and an end? Your own mind is fascinating if you pay attention for a minute of two.

Perhaps, this isn't a good time for you. You are sitting calming and blow me down some really most unwanted emotions are taking up your mind space. All emotions, in all their nuances, are normal. What is this emotion about? It has arrived with a message. What is it trying to tell you? Don't judge or belittle the emotion or thought. Don't drive it away. Give it the attention it seeks and it will go exactly when it is ready to go.

Allow your mind to float from one thought or emotion or sense. If things are too troubling in there, move back to the breath, or your feet on the floor or your shoulders moving further away from your ears as you relax. The sit is yours. You do what you need to do. Rest in your whole body sitting on the chair or lying on the floor or on your cushion.

Perhaps today you want to feel love and that feeling isn't available to you in the 'real world'. Take yourself to a place you love, the mountains, the sea, whatever pleases you, and remember how that felt.

Or, see in your mind's eye, the little girl or boy you once were, who simply craved some parental attention and care. Pour into yourself the love you want. Remind yourself that you are a good person doing your best. Guilty about something in the past? Remind yourself that at that time you did the best you could based on what you knew then.

There is no much richness in a meditation sit. Each one is unique and that is proven if you keep a meditation journal, although you may well find that certain themes keep coming up. Well, that's rich material for you right there.

If you need a therapist, and so many of us do at some stage to iron out some struggle, meditation goes hand in hand with therapy. It will enrich therapy. It will get you to revelations faster.

Above all, meditation will help you to see that there is a co-existing awareness available to us. We all go through really troubling situations but sitting behind that challenging state of mind is a still mind. It's always there and always available to us. There is more to life than what you see.

Now

There probably isn't anyone these days who hasn't heard the advice 'to live in the moment'. It makes sense to accept the fact that the past is the past and that the future has yet to come, so best to embrace this moment and make the best of this moment.

You can take this simple thought as far as you want. For instance, it is soothing to focus on the senses in the moment. Rather than scoff down that peanut butter sandwich take a moment to notice the thickness of the bread and the crunchy bits in the peanut butter spread, or the smoothness of the non-crunchy variety, if that's more your thing. How does the sandwich feel on your tongue? Rather than chew just enough times to get it down your throat, satiation for your stomach and nothing more, chew several more times and notice how that feels. It's a pleasant experience to pare life down to the simple things if for no other reason than your thought processes slow down for a bit. It's hard to think about your 'to do' list at the same time as you are paying attention to what is happening in your mouth.

One of the patterns of my mind that I noticed some time ago, but didn't realize was making for difficulty was that, when confronted with a challenging period of time, I tended to say, either out loud or to myself, 'Just tell me when it will end. So long as I know when it will end, I can manage.' I remember once a lawyer calling to tell me of the outcome of a situation. I distinctly remember replying, 'Are you telling me it is over?' That's the way my mind worked. Things had a beginning and thus had an end. In the interim, whilst waiting for a satisfactory outcome, I suffered more than was necessary.

I don't think like that any more, although the temptation is there, I catch myself and stop it. I think this relates to my understanding that I can't control all that much, and nor should I. It also relates to the fact that I have come to see that life isn't like that; a beginning, a middle and an end. Of course, we are born and eventually we die and in the middle of those two events we live. So, rationally speaking there is a beginning and there is an end.

However, if you think like that, for example, 'I can't be happy until I find someone to love me completely', or 'I can stop worrying when I get the children into good colleges', you simply miss a good deal of your life.

I'm currently at the holiday house. We must have had it for nearly 20 years now. When we bought it the house was an honest to goodness 'fix her upper'. We can't get here too often but when we do we do something to make the property a little better. It's slow going, although if you look back, we've done a great deal. Yet, there is still so very much more to do.

In moments, I get a little despondent. How I'd love to throw a bit of money at the property and just get things done. But, on the flip side, I've had more fun this summer here than ever before. I've truly relaxed, loved the lake, and my husband and I have had much fun buying a few cushions and stools and bits and pieces at a sale. Every little improvement we make is great fun and one day, probably years from now yet, we'll arrive at the place and think 'its all done'. In the meantime, we are grateful we have a property in the country which we can do up.

Relationships have an overarching 'feel' about them, I think. There are good times and bad times. When you've been together for as long as us, 40 years, you start to look back and wonder what enabled such an enduring thing. Others would have split with much less having gone wrong, with less challenges, so why did we pull through? Why does the love continue to grow?

I think you have to believe; you have to believe in the goodness and the 'rightness' of the union. You have to try to imagine life without this person and realize that it is not the right thing for you, or for the family. You have to dig down into your best self and call on your resilience in the hard moments. Staying together isn't always the right thing, naturally, but if you believe in the union, you'll find a way to endure the tough times. Here's where getting in touch with your emotions helps; identifying them and sitting with them until your brain calms and settles. Time outs to do this is no bad thing.

In the past few turbulent years I never could have conceived of a time when my husband would be more patient with me, more settled with me, more generous and in the moment with me. We talk in a new way now; more positive and more confident about our lives together. We talk and talk now, often in an existentialist way, about the meaning of life and how to live a good life. We are on board about the body and mind connection and it's so wonderful to have this new, deeper bond.

He has called on cindi at times; completely derails the rational girl and reduces the bimbo right down to a mindless toy. I love this, I love his desire for her. Truthfully, I am a little coy at the moment; quiet in my sexuality. It's a transition period for me, he knows this, as I examine certain behaviours of the past that derailed me; derailed my emotional state.

I'm not bursting with impatience to have this interim period behind me. I have faith that the examination of my unconscious mind will lead to a good place. Pia Mellody said in a utube lecture that a relationship isn't a passionate or dramatic thing, until the time is appropriate for there to be passion. A relationship is a calm thing; something that ebbs and flows like a river, rather than being a roller coaster ride. In some ways, the roller coaster ride became 'normal' in my mind, even though I detest roller coaster rides. I came to see that I had to get off the roller coaster ride.

In some strange way, the vast improvements in my functioning, my husband's functioning and the health (though not the strength) of the union relates to this calm approach; calming oneself right down and staying in the moment; being less absorbed with the mistakes of the past and being less invested with the outcomes of the future. Life, in it's simplest moments right now, is a beautiful thing.

Back to the dungeon

I'm back in the dungeon down in Tasmania and having a lovely time. It's cold here but I love much about the season of winter and as I sit here on the couch in our living room with the morning sun streaming through the window, I am completely serene.

My husband is asleep. We'd turned on the heat overnight but it turned out to be too toasty for us and dehydration had him up several times in the middle of the night. So, I've had a cup of black coffee and a piece of our sourdough break stick with a little real butter and homemade raspberry jam. We bought it at one of the best bakeries I've ever been to, just down the road.

One of the best things about this apartment is the location. A stone's throw from us is this sensational bakery, a little old-fashioned milk bar for (overpriced) supplies, a fantastic Italian restaurant (where we ate last night) and the Salamanca Market, where we will go on Saturday morning. It's a wonderfully quaint area, an absolute throw-back in time and I just adore it here. In my old age, I think I'll move here and spend the summers in the cooler environment. At least, that's a little dream I have.

One of the lovely things about practicing 'awareness' is that if you slow down enough to enjoy the moments of your life, little moments really do have great significance. I was blissfully aware of the raspberry jam waking up my taste buds, of the pleasure of the morning sun streaming through the window, of the rejuvenating quality of the coffee, and the delightful silence as I sit here noticing my acrylic nails tapping away at the keys.  The slower pace suits me very, very well and there's nothing more I want at this very moment.

I love the fact that I have with me just a few changes of clothes. I love my little wardrobe and how everything I have brought has a purpose. I've brought the gorgeous cashmere black wrap that my husband bought me in Tuscany last year and I have the lovely fine wool cardigan he bought me a few days ago for our anniversary (We had a blast choosing some winter clothing for one another the day before we left for Tasmania and we've bought those items with us). I love living this small, contained (yet refined) little life. I love my little dungeon so much!

Yesterday, we had a nap after we'd settled in and after that, he played with me. One of the big disadvantages of not playing with a girl regularly (especially a girl like me who can feel her oats if she's not reminded of her place for a time) is that she gets out of practice. He was spanking away when I said,

"I'm not really into pain any more..."

"I don't care what you want. You need the pain."

And, he proceeded on. Until this point, I hadn't experienced the turn-on effect. If he'd listened to me and stopped, it would have been an unpleasant outcome. I'd have been miserable. But, the fact that he insisted he do as he chose...that was the turn-on. Now, I didn't tell him that. But, they're the facts. I feel a great deal more comfortable in my life when I know my place; when he asserts himself.

Dinner last night was delicious; Veal Pizzaiola and a bottle of 48 degrees South Pinot Noir, 2008. When we were sharing a piece of cheesecake (I got two bites!) the waitress asked us what we planned to do tomorrow and I told her we were going to MONA. She told me that David Walsh (the philanthropist who set up MONA as his own private art gallery for the public) often comes into the restaurant; that he's a famous gambler; autistic with a strong bent for numbers. Many of his exhibitions are confronting and thought-provoking and I'm looking forward to it immensely.

Anyways, I'm being good; being kept in my place and life is sweet.

Embracing change

It is no surprise that a big part of me has gone into raising my children. But, the time has come when I can begin to see the fruits of my labor. Whilst I still have a child in tertiary education and one in high school, my two eldest are fully grown. My eldest son told me last night that he has now been to all seven continents and he travels again in a week or so for another month, including back to the state in the US where he was raised. I can already hear him telling me how small the house looked this time around. A Cape Cod style, it was indeed small although incredibly functional and we loved it to bits.

My daughter, who has also had a few journeys of her own, most notably her art classes in Florence when she fell in love with Italy, leaves tonight to travel all around Europe. She hopes to settle in London and live there for an indefinite period of time. Whilst I find myself with mixed feelings, for I shall miss her more than I can say as will we all, she leaves at my suggestion. My plan and my husband's plan right from the outset was to produce children who were savvy in the world, who embraced the world and its opportunities and who were independent enough to want to leave home and travel the world. We feel enormous pride in them for they are not only beautiful people on the outside but beautiful within, with a deep sense of care and respect for the family, their friends and all people with whom they come in contact. They are good people.

I'm not left alone. I accompanied my third child for his learner driver permit this past week and experienced his delight when he passed. For some reason or other, he has had a 'thing' about driving but we patiently waited and eventually he made the appointment himself. His quirkiness is challenging but his company always fun. And, my youngest son is the cuddliest and most lovable child you will ever met. Without his darling sister, his Mum will have her work cut out to give double the cuddles in an effort to fill the gaping hole in his life. No; not alone at all.

Yet, the door is well and truly open now for me to recognize and embrace that life has moved on to a new stage and so must I. The past year has been incredibly exciting,exhilarating and transforming and I hope it goes on that way. There are still secrets about me to unfold; secrets that I have kept even from myself and I look forward to the unfolding of them. I am not just a little bit kinky, I've discovered. I'm not at all ashamed of that any more. In fact, I am in a very happy place about that and when I get a chance to consider recent experiences, I'll put my thoughts down here.

I haven't been a person to fully accept the value of discipline in life. So, it is interesting to me that at this time I find myself revelling in the acceptance of disciplines into my life - of being expected to do certain things in a week; to wait for my treats, for example. I had no idea it could be this easy for me to accept discipline imposed. And, in the same way, perhaps it is time for me to embrace my desire to write - not in some haphazard way such as 'maybe I will and maybe I won't today' - but as in, here is what is expected for the week.

It is all part of a mindfulness that I look to bring into my life - to enjoy the present and to make the most of the present and to meet goals set for myself. Just don't expect me to stay dry eyed at the airport this evening.