A Mindful Morning Challenge Just for You

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© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

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I Found Hope

Hope and faith are always viable options.

Through challenging times, through tiring days, through painful experiences and stories of tragedy, we must never lose sight of the beauty that surrounds us.

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When reading a book, not even thinking about this blog, hope found me. I was curled up under a yellow blanket, hot tea by my side. And I followed hope to her next simple message: “Believe in man.” Believe in mankind to do good. Believe in mankind to be good. Believe that the world and even the current page of your novel is filled with kindness and inspiration. And believe that you have every right to move past the noise – even cross it out in black ink! – and delve straight into that place of inspiring hope.

Because, at its core, the world is … beautiful, and simple, and, quite frankly, good.

How do I know that?

Well, for starters, because you are a part of this world!

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

Just one realization could change your life.

Let’s try something new…

Let go

of your worries and fears. For just this moment. Let go of your to-do lists and your experience of chaos. Let go of that feeling that you are so tired and life is so busy. Simply choose, right now, for a moment, to let go, and take a deep breath. Simply choose, for a moment, to be still.

And allow the moment to pass.

Now, don’t jump straight back to the tension you carry. I know, your boss/teacher/child/neighbor isn’t going to let go of his/her request. Your landlord and electricity company aren’t about to let go of their owed pay. The world isn’t going to stop because you need a break.

Except, think back to the last moment: it just did.

In the moment you chose to be still and feel free, the world stopped. In the moment you chose to take a deep inhale, the demands paused and waited for you. Nobody felt slighted. None of your obligations ballooned into insurmountable tasks. In that moment of silence, nothing bad happened.

You just were, and the world simply waited.

And doesn’t it feel nice

to know that you are in control – of how you feel, of how you respond, of the tension you carry? Doesn’t it feel freeing to realize that you are empowered by the simplicity of your breath?

Today, the Jewish people are eating in a Sukkah, a three-walled ‘shack,’ if you will, lined with a roofing of palm branches. As one of three pilgrimage festivals in the Jewish faith, Sukkot reinforces the simplicity of eating, the temporary in life. Our shelters can blow away. Our food is simply what grows in the field. In the Sukkah, we are separated from the material possessions of the modern world, and brought back to a zeman simchateynu, a season of joy, when our ancestors’ fields shared their yields. We can choose to worry about the challenging climate outside or the burden of carrying out our food, but instead, we empower ourselves. We rejoice in the beauty of what we do have, and leave the worry behind.

Yet, in our day-to-day lives, outside the holiday season, we all tend to forget our own power. We tend to clutter our world with interpretations of what we see.

She has a curled brow – that must mean she’s frustrated with how slow I’m working. He’s looking away; did I do something wrong? And the guy across the room is just sitting and smiling; if only I could be more like him.

We see ourselves as our weaknesses, the time as a deficit, our neighbors as a measure of compare. We place meaning in the wind when really, the wind just is. That woman just was. Our stories are just a product of our minds’ creation.

They aren’t reality.

And neither is our anxiety or tension or fear that we feel. Neither is that draining thought that we have so much to do in so little time.

I was reading a book, crossing out the words that ‘didn’t matter.’ And, in erasing the clutter, I found the gist of the story: “Beneath a tall man stood a shorter man and the two were surrounded by others.”

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Now, that wouldn’t be the Blockbuster slogan on the back of a cover, but the simplicity of the ‘true’ story – and how I came to find it – carries important lessons:

(1) Change is hard – especially when, through the choice to change, we lose the option to go back. For the longest time, I would ‘cross-out’ words in a book with pencil, drawing only a line so I could see what used to be there, erase the marks and ‘go back.’ For the longest time, I wouldn’t even mark a book, ruin the perfection of the page. But then, I irreversibly marked the page, and I found my next lesson …

(2) In making a choice, we allow ourselves power. So much in life is out of our control. So much simply happens, and, in return, we respond. The response can be instinctual and follow our natural patterns of behavior – like not writing in a book, or only writing in the margins in pencil – OR the response can be daring, that choice we always wanted to make but were simply too timid to try. In fact, the choice that doesn’t meet expectations often challenges us most to exceed those expectations.

And, of course, in removing the extraneous detail of a story, I came to the most important insight of all:

(3) Life, at its core, is simple. 

It’s not a stressful experience or a tiring string of days. It’s not a journey of working to live, or a challenge to experience the craziest and most beautiful parts of the world. Those expectations, like the author’s ‘clutter’ of words, are simply interpretations of what is really happening: there is a man, and a shorter man, and a lot of other people around them. What everyone is thinking or feeling, what emotion fills the air and what color paints the grass – those are choices that we can each make in the moment. Today, I choose rest to fill the air. I choose softness to paint the grass. I don’t recall what the author chose, but I am certain his world was much different from mine. I don’t know what you will choose, but I am certain your world, too, will be unique.

So think back to that thought of ‘having so much to do in so little time.’ What’s the gist of the story?

You have things to do. And you have time.

The adjectives you choose to paint that reality can either lead to simplicity and freedom or clutter and stress, but the choice and the power is all yours.

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Reality is a funny thing

because no one reality actually exists. We place interpretations on interpretations on interpretations of the world, and somewhere in that mess, we find ourselves overwhelmed and toxically stressed.

So take a step back, return to the simplicity of your life, and make the interpretive choice that will suit your health and wellness best. After all, you are the author of your world.

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.

 

 

 

30 Simple Somethings That Matter Most in Life

Only the perfect among us have lived a life without worry. Good news for the rest of us – I haven’t met anyone claiming perfection. What I have met, though, are beautiful dreamers – dozens of them. I’ve met men and women and children experiencing pain and searching for joy. I’ve met families who have faced such hardship you would be at a loss for where to find hope, and I have seen them still radiate with joy. I have seen marvelous individuals come to face obstacles. I have faced obstacles. And I have seen these same people choose to sit back, reflect, and regain the strength to move forward.

 

Yet I know, in the midst of a struggle, it’s hard to find hope. I understand, when everything seems so overwhelming and the future so uncertain, it’s hard to carry enough faith to move forward. It’s hard to see past the now, to feel past the worry.

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It’s hard to experience the little moments that matter.

 

But the thing is, in ten, fifteen, fifty years, what is going to matter more: the fear that captured your breath or the future that swept you away? I’m guessing the latter. In fact, take that back. I know it’s the latter! When you look back on your life, and flip through your memories, what is going to matter most is not how much anxiety you felt before that next interview or how much sorrow you carried with the loss of a friend. No way!

 

What will matter – what does matter – are the choices you made, and the incredible possibilities your choices create. What you will remember are the simple somethings that made each moment of each day an authentic touch more complete.

 

In fifty years, my friend, what will matter most are these thirty moments:

 

  1. The day you decided to move out of your comfort zone. You made a pro/con list. You asked a dozen people you knew. And you ignored all the data – didn’t even tally the votes – and just went for it.
  2. The moment you decided to stay there – outside your comfort zone. And live there. Even when things got hard.
  3. Every morning you woke up in time to see the sun rise – the colors of angels lighting up the sky. And especially those mornings when you decided to stop. When you did nothing but breathe in and simply stare.
  4. Each afternoon when you chose to walk home. When you smiled at strangers and made friends with the dogs.
  5. That one cab ride when you climbed in the backseat of a Honda, smiled to the driver, and decided to ask much more than ‘how long have you driven for uber?’
  6. That conversation when someone asked, “How are you doing?” and you answered, instead, as though you had just said, ‘I’m fine,’ and, in exchange, she pushed, “No really, how are you?”
  7. The time you laughed without holding your smile together. You were just happy. Your emotion was pure.
  8. The moments you smiled for no reason at all. It was truly incredible how the smile filled you, filled the room, filled the world with such joy.
  9. Those dozens of moments when you realized you were happy. So you didn’t say anything. You didn’t fear anything.
  10. The dozens more moments when you felt truly proud. I can still see how high your graceful shoulders were rising.
  11. The night you undressed just to sing in the shower. Joy finally made sense, and lifted your heart.
  12. When you jumped in a crowd and spoke without thinking. Sarcasm flew through your tone, spontaneity brought you to life.
  13. That feeling of a pen and a paper and words falling to a page. That feeling of having something to share.
  14. The morning you awoke and smiled in the mirror. You didn’t need a reason more than the reflection being you.
  15. Summer days when the sun glazed your back with its warmth, as you walked through the city, a friend at your side.
  16. That squeeze of his arms around your back. The beautiful tension of you hugging back.
  17. Being a deer in the headlights, a novice at life. But still trying, and stumbling. And having a moment when things again made some sense.
  18. Watching a child’s eyes overflow with pure light. Being part of the magic of that child growing self-love.
  19. Deciding to be responsible for a woman in pain, so you steadied your focus and restored her to a smile.
  20. Sitting in a dark room, surrounded by people, you felt so alone, so you chose to say, ‘Hi.’
  21. Sitting in a loud room, you saw a girl all alone, so you walked past the others, and reached out to say, ‘Hi.’
  22. The day you recognized your weakness, and you didn’t ignore it. You didn’t deny it. You didn’t even reach for it. Instead, you asked why.
  23. Making the choice to come out from hiding. With one word, one action, one click of the mouse, your voice suddenly became an authentic agent of change.
  24. The first time someone complemented you, and you chose to say thank you. It was simple and still just oh so very hard.
  25. That conversation you had where you did nothing but listen. You smiled, you nodded, and you were purely there for a friend.
  26. The evening you two sat on a park bench. You waded through sprinklers, watched cyclists in tutus, and laughed all the way through Pharrell William’s “Happy Song.”
  27. The moment you fell in love with your body. You forgot from time to time, but you always returned home to yourself.
  28. The day you just couldn’t breathe, looking at how much time had passed. Guess what? You’re still reading this. You still chose a breath.
  29. The tears you shed for a loss, and the choice to sit in the pain. Yes, it was hard. And for that, you grew.
  30. The butterflies you felt for the uncertain future, and the choice to live now with the energy of pure faith.

 

If you stop and just remember, in a series of moments, your life hasn’t been perfect. And it’s sure far from over. But, my friend, your life’s beautiful

It’s everything perfection never could bring.

 

© 2017 Mirissa D. Price: A Dental Student, A Writer, A Journey to Share.