I have been working on re-establishing some daily practices. I had overwhelmed myself by trying to establish new routines for my entire day, and since my brain just isn't wired that way anymore, that attempt was a colossal disaster.
So I backed off. I forgave myself for my perceived failure. I regrouped and reconsidered, and decided to try a more gentle approach, going in toes first instead of diving headlong.
I found something new that interested me - setting a trail camera on our property to keep an eye on wildlife activity. Then I set the alarm on my phone to remind myself to go and change out the SD card. The alarm has a distinctive sound, a clip from John Denver's song "Wild Montana Skies." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8RRgIP-0pHk It is not a sound I can ignore, and I haven't been ignoring it for about two months now. Every night I change the card, regardless of the weather, or how tired I am or if I have a dozen other things to do. There are no excuses for not completing the task. The lure of a new thing, the alarm reminder, and determination helped me establish that new daily practice.
At the beginning of August, I found another new thing that interested me. The first foggy morning reminded me of the lore that says that there will be a snowfall in winter for every foggy morning in August. Every year I am reminded of that lore, and every year I say I'm going to keep track, but I never do until this year. I have taped an index card right next to my keyboard on my desk, and it is divided into two columns: August Fog and Winter Snowfalls. Every morning I make a hash mark on the index card if there was fog. Today is August 21st, and so far, we have had 16 foggy mornings here at Bear Path Cottage. Another daily practice in place.
Somewhere in the foggy morning check, I decided to add my daily walkabout and outside morning meditation back to my practices. Because I already have to get up and get outside to tend the chickens, this was a logical next step.
There are other daily practices I have reintroduced or created anew. Meditation. Ritual. Writing. It was easier to build off the first one in place than to implement them all at once. A key to my success in maintaining these daily practices is to allow myself some flexibility with time. That flexibility keeps me from feeling like the day is ruined if I don't have Practice A done by a certain time. I have reclaimed my ability to roll with the flow.
This morning as I sat for meditation, the sky opened up, and a soft rain started to fall. I stayed where I was, under the juniper boughs, undisturbed. I knew that when I went back inside, I would fix a cup of tea and carry it to my desk. I would sit down to mark the fog record, and then I would begin writing. The tea would warm the chill from the rain, and the daily practices would continue to bring comfort and stability in difficult times. They contribute to maintaining a sense of being grounded and centered in a tempestuous world. I am grateful for the circumstances that allowed me to recognize the need to rebuild my daily routines and the life experiences that have taught me how to do so.
Today's tea: Catskill Mountain Tea Company's Winter Cherry
