How can we just BE in this moment when there’s so much to do!
Projects.
People to see.
Bills to pay.
Life to live.
Earlier today I saw this word online: Focus.
A popular online personality said that she is going to make it her main word for the year –FOCUS. As in focus and get things done.
Okay, I thought, Yes, I do seem to get a lot done when I focus. It is definitely how I’ve been conditioned to BE in this world in order to be a productive, contributing member of society.
And yet . . .
There’s soooo much beauty. Soooo much peace when I’m BEing in the now. Savoring each breath. Noticing what’s going on around me. Within me.
And then I thought of TRUST. What it means to trust.
Okay, if I’m telling myself I need to focus. Put myself on some kind of a schedule. THEN I’m telling myself that I HAVE TO be that way in order to be productive. In order to accomplish whatever. Be a good citizen. Contribute to society at large.
And if I don’t, well, I’ll be a failure. Tossed about at the whim of whatever pulls my attention this way or that.
*****
And that brought me to some day in time when an image of a boat being tossed about at sea was the topic du jour. The warning of what can happen when one lives a life unplanned. Unfocused.
*****
And yet . . . when I reflect on my life, I recognize how unconventionally I’ve been living. How I have been letting myself be pulled this way and that by whatever is grabbing my attention in the moment. And still . . . in the midst of it all, I have been productive. Have accomplished things that could be considered successful to the outside world.
All while letting go and allowing the current to take me where it will.
*****
Okay, Sj, what are you trying to say?
Well, I think I’m trying to say that it’s possible to do both. To BE in the now and also focus on whatever interests us in the moment.
Because I’m realizing that beingfocused is as much a part of my nature as is daydreaming.
When I read a good book, I get lost in it. That’s focusing.
When I’m writing whatever, I get lost in it. That’s also focusing.
And when I used to compete in sports, I’d get lost in the moment. Thinking of nothing else except what I was doing. Another form of focusing.
And ALL part of my nature. Who I am.
So . . . on this Saturday morning when I thought I’d be out the door by now, I’ve been pulled to sit and write. To think and reflect.
Was it wrong? Should I have been doing something else?
No.
Because I’ve come to trust this guidance so well.
To trust my soul’s promptings.
It’s gotten me to where I am now. And this now is really, really good. ;-)
xoxox Sj xoxox
P.S. I made an Sj from the Heart video a few weeks back called “Being in the Now.”I had it scheduled to post on YouTube sometime in March (another video was going to be posted today), but . . . in the way that life just keeps unfolding and continually showing me that I’m not in charge, I changed which video would post today to the one you see below (to match this blog post). And there you go. Life is always, always changing, and we’re always, always being guided. ;-)
P.P.S. The image above is of a shower curtain, lol, being tossed about at sea. It is available for purchase if you like it. No, I don’t make any profit off of that, lol. Just find it funny that the image I found that I like is for a shower curtain. Also saw that it comes as a mouse pad and rug. Again, lol.
To CELEBRATE and give thanks for something in our life (in the form of a short video).
For 50 days.
At first I said, “No.” I felt that it would be a distraction.
But then I thought, “Why not?”
And after starting this (today is currently day 3), I realized that I wanted to post it on my YouTube channel.So…if you want to follow me, you can subscribe to my YouTube channel Sj LeHoven.
Along the way, I’d LOVE to here what YOU have to CELEBRATE about YOUR life. What are YOU grateful for?
I love each and every one of you. Sending a hug and ALL my love.
“In a five star review on Amazon, Claire Morris-Dobie posted, “It’s tough to pin down Sj’s Mule to a specific audience. I loved it and so did our 9 year old grandson. It’s entertaining and educational on so many levels and for ages eight to 80.
On the surface, it seems like such a straightforward story with adorable talking animals but there is so much more to it. I now see it as a coming of age allegorywith family members and everyday joys and mishaps that we can all relate to…There were plenty of times during the read that I had to stop and think about the deeper meaning of a passage.
Sj tells her story using animals just as Orwell did in Animal Farm but thankfully, there are revelations rather than revolutions, and compassion conquers tyranny…This is a sweet and sad, and often laugh out loud read and somewhere in the middle, I forgot all the characters were animals.”
Claire Morris-Dobie, author of Dear God, Got a Minute? and Slam: A New Way to Tell the Truth
“Anne candidly shares not only her pain and anxiety, but her journey to weave together beliefs, spiritual encounters and hope as she faced the deaths of her parents.”
Dr. Heidi Horsely, Internationally Known Grief Expert, Co-host of the Award-Winning TV and radio show, Open to Hope
Recently I experienced Ann Randolph’s performance of her most hilarious and inspiring one-woman play, LOVELAND. Afterwards, she invited the audience to stay and write. Ann is also a most dynamic teacher and encourager. She travels the country leading writing workshops. Improvisational acting and various movement activities are used to get everyone’s creative juices flowing. Another teaching technique of Ann’s is to give the participants a “prompt” which they are then to write about for 12 minutes. If you can’t think of what to write at any point during the 12 minutes, you’re to write “What to say, what to say, what to say” until something comes. The idea is to not edit yourself but rather to allow ideas to flow freely.
On this particular evening, after her most outstanding performance of LOVELAND (yup, hated it! Not. : ), she led a short meditation for those who chose to stay (around 15 to 20 people), asking us to think about a time of grief. I closed my eyes and focused on her guidance; nothing came, nothing came, nothing came.
Then she said, “Go.” And suddenly I knew what I was going to write about.
The prompt? A moment in time when we felt grief. And here’s what came (with some slight after-the-fact editing):
What I remember most about this moment is the grass under my feet, toes, and legs. It was damp and a bit sticky just having recently mowed. As I thought of him standing by my side, watching me, I wept.
Then I remembered him opening a coconut, leaving a trail of husks in his wake until he sat down chewing and slurping, coconut water running down his spotted tongue. I simply watched and laughed, enjoying his excitement, his pleasure at opening that coconut and watching me watch him — savoring the moment, the grass, the breeze, the smell. The smell of coconut all over his face running down his noes to his toes.
I remember. I remember. I remember.
And then I realized how I’d been waiting. How I’d been holding my breath waiting for him to turn. To change. To rise up and become a boy. My boy. My little boy. But it never happened. It never happened. And yet I loved him. Adored him. Cherished him as we sat together and watched the sunset. I placed his body on his bed and carried him to the rock wall just steps away from the van. Careful. Careful. Easy. Not to drop him. Not to slip. But to gently set him down so together we could watch the sun set — a fire-ball on the horizon laced with the gentle lap, lap, lap of the waves.
Sigh.
What to say? What to say?
This time with him as he was dying was a gift, and yet I didn’t realize then that he was also giving me a second gift. Cracking my heart wide open, so I could begin to see life for what it really was. Is. The gift it IS to be alive, to breath. The gift that it is now and forevermore. For life doesn’t end with death but simply transforms into another.
So, Fido, to you I give thanks. And always, I give my love, my appreciation that you chose me to be your *caretaker into death. To be there with you, for you, so that we could each cherish the moment as we sat together in silence and watched the tomatoes grow until their plump red bodies were juicy enough to bite into. Fido Tomatoes, I called them. Magical tomatoes born in grief and yet comforting all the same as the juice dripped down my chin, and the taste brought me back to that mid-summer day sitting together in the sun, dirt on my fingers, seeds in my hands, and you watching with complete focus, as these magical seeds spoke of hope and life continued.
Fido Tomatoes on the Vine
*Fido’s Papa, Tony, was also his caretaker, but when writing this, I was thinking of the time Fido and I spent alone.
I just participated in a really inspiring writing workshop called Karma Free Writing.
For the closing, we were invited to post a video of us reading something we’d written (for the workshop or previously). What came to me instead, are the words to the five minute video shown below. The photos I selected from thousands of photos I’ve taken during my travels, as well as ones my husband and I have taken during our daily life.