Bogged down again, going round in circles.

Some weeks back I was listening to ‘master coach’ - note ‘master’, he must be good - talk about gratitude. 

A thought he’d had some years ago - what if I invested the same energy in appreciating all the things I did have rather than stressing about all that I don’t? 

That struck for me. 

My mind needs no invitation to seek out and find all that might go wrong. Or revel in all that it doesn’t have. Not enough of this, or that. 

Some kind of impending financial, emotional or commercial doom not so much waiting round the corner. 

More sitting on the pavement flicking bogies at me. 

What a lot of brain power is invested here, I thought. 

What if the same energy and intensity was flipped on its head, channeled instead into appreciating all that I did have? 

At home. In work. The gardens outside my window. 

There’s much talk of gratitude and appreciation practises. I’ve tried a few. Never really stuck. Prompted again however, I thought I’d try. 

I started by making a list of everything I felt grateful for that moment. 

I feel grateful for the feeling of my fingers hitting the keys, tapping out these words. I appreciate the gentle warmth where my barefoot meet the soft carpet. I feel grateful for the ability to write and think and share, as I am now. 

And so on. 

I did this as often as I remembered. 

In my kitchen the corner shelves stacked full of the accoutrements of middle class life: nuts, seeds, oats, grains. 

Walking back into the kitchen one day after writing my list, I was struck by just how much we have. How abundant our lives are. How full. How interesting, I thought. Maybe there is something in this gratitude thing, after all. 

The little act of writing out thoughts, orienting the mind to what it has vs what it doesn’t shifting and changing what the same mind sees, inserting a lens of opportunity, love, beauty and bounty. 

This the power of little practises. 

A few weeks ago when I started writing this sequence, I said week three we’d get to practises over principles. When I wrote that, in truth, I didn’t really know what it meant. Sounded good though, no? And here I am. Writing about it. 

The above is a practise. Something to play at little by little, day by day, shifting and changing the shape and hue as I do. 

Sitting each morning is a practise too. By which I mean meditation, not just sitting. It’s an orientation to presence, to focus, to lending a clarity and calm. This pointing to another little practise I’ve developed that I’d like to share with you. Before I do, a little story. 

Wise Old Monk Thich Naht Hahn told a powerful story of some of the many people escaping by small boats the American War, as the Vietnamese rightly call it. 

If just one person on the boat was able to embody a spirit of steady and calm, the likelihood of the boat surviving it and making it to safety was high. If nobody on board was able to, the risk of fear and panic rippling through the boat causing a capsize or similar was even higher. 

Now, if you’re reading this, you’re unlikely in a war zone. But the principle is important. How we turn up is important - at home, with colleagues, when your kids are annoying you or worse, someone else’s kids are annoying you. or when we’re bogged down ruminating, second guessing ourselves or trying on the old fitting clothes of doubt, mild or otherwise, we can channel and practise a little of Thich Naht Hahn’s wisdom. I call it Pause to Progress. And it starts with practising Noticing. 

There you are, on the sofa bogged down again, going round and round not solving the same problem you didn’t solve last time. Or the time before that. Or before that. It’s a pattern, replaying on you for good reason. You can’t solve it. But you can notice. Practise being steady amid the ship that is you. 

If you’d like to practice along, you’re welcome to. 

If you’d like me to send it to you, email me here with a YES PLEASE! And I’ll send it immediately your way.