What mindfulness does is it allows you to see the experience for what it truly is. Without all the extras I was initially throwing on it. Mindfulness in this particular instance was an opportunity for me.
Part of the beauty of life is its messiness and completely involving yourself in that messiness. It’s joyful and sad and frustrating and surprising and exciting and angering and scary and full of love and adventure and challenges and ups and downs.
Mindful Monday. On a Tuesday. Yep.
Yesterday I had zero time to write a blog post. Between a heavily booked day and some unforeseen, urgent matters, I wasn’t left with a spare moment. And I hadn’t prepared for that by writing one in advance. Someday I’ll be better about that.
At one point in my life, when I was much less mindful, I googled the phrase “how to let go.” It was a lifetime ago, so I don’t remember what I was struggling to let go, but if I was asking google, I must have been struggling.
The google search didn’t turn up much that was useful.
That’s because, as I learned in the years since, there isn’t a set algorithm to letting go.
It’s a gray, cloudy day in Los Angeles. Or at least in the part of Los Angeles I live. I rarely see clients on Fridays, which means I’m working from home and don’t have to dress remotely professional, lounging in ripped jeans and a t shirt with my hair in a ponytail.
So the plan is: graduate college, get a good job, get married, have a family, go on some fun vacations, and retire in comfort... Or eff school, travel the world, start your own company, don't have children, and never really retire because you love projects...
It doesn’t fail. Every single year the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve.