Hormones!

This not being old, sort of being old thing is so much fun. I’m too old to have a baby (socially, mentally), but I’m too young to be free from worrying about pregnancy. My body (and my mind) is in flux. I’m traveling through a wonderfully, glorious time in my life dubbed, perimenopause.

When we reach our early or pre-teens, we’re plagued with a monthly siege of pain and discomfort that ushers us into womanhood. We experience raging hormones and PMS—Pissed at Men Syndrome for some, Premenstrual Syndrome to others. Then, for the next 35-odd years (and roughly 455 periods), we spend that time either trying to, or trying not to get pregnant.

When you’re done making that decision, and life rolls merrily along, your body kind of reverses itself. And Bam! Hormones! Again! Only this time, they’re not the oh-that-boy-is-so-cute-I-can’t-stand-it kind, but something entirely different.

Visits to my doctor now include talks about my cycle. Am I tired, moody, anxious, sleeping well? Am I experiencing night sweats, vaginal dryness, or a low libido? Now let’s hop on that scale. Shall we?

Perimenopause can last between 5 and 10 years as the estrogen in your body makes its slow exit. Going to bed at 9:00 and waking at 4:00 becomes normal. Your monthly “friend” isn’t as friendly as she once was because you never know if she’s coming, how long she’ll stay, or what kind of mood she’ll be in. You’re hot, then cold, then hot again. And… well, I’ll spare you any further details. When I first read the book Our Bodies, Ourselves, I think they glossed over this part.

But the best part, the ultimate kick in the pants, is that your brain becomes foggier than any coastal town. We’re all doing too much, and it’s normal to be forgetful, but this is different. Where did I put my glasses? Did I just say something? Why did I come in here? These are normal, everyday occurrences that frustrate me to no end.

This is the reward we get for YEARS of wearing a sweatshirt around your middle because of an accident, of running off to the nurse’s office during school because you think you’re dying, of buying several sets of clothes throughout your life to fit over a bulging middle (pregnant or not), and of keeping companies who manufacture the products we desperately need each and every month in champagne and caviar. Forget gold. Invest in feminine products!

I’m told that once I reach my mid-fifties, things will be good again. Those nasty little hormones apparently fade into the background, sated and giggling the whole time.

P.S. You may also like Life in My 40s and Stress and Anxiety Triggers.

Life in My 40s

I survived my 20s, plowed through my 30s, and now I’m surviving mid-life. I’m in the phase of life where it seems as though I no longer matter; no one is trying to get my attention. Advertisers are targeting 20-somethings—the Millennials—to buy their products, watch their programs, change the world and do something amazing with their lives. I’m not eligible for any particular benefits or special treatment. The AARP has to wait a little longer. I don’t get discounts if I buy a movie ticket and I’m not ready for the early bird special. I’m in limbo. Not quite young, but not old, either.

In my 20s, I was blissfully ignorant. I was young, carefree. I didn’t worry about much until I started to have children. But even still, I was much calmer when I had my son than when I had my daughters. I was moody and grumbled about inconsequential things like most people at that age, but did I mention I was young and carefree? I write that sentence and smile. Only because I know that my 20s were not nearly as carefree as I make them sound. I went through a lot during that decade of my life—leaving college and starting college again, getting married, buying and selling a house, having a baby, getting divorced, battling cervical cancer, getting re-married, buying another house, suffering a miscarriage. But I handled it. I got through it and I moved on.

During my 30s, after all of my babies were born and life seemed to settle down, the worrying began in earnest. Little by little, there was simply more to worry about. I started a business that I threw myself into like an episode of Survivor, tribal counsel and all. I worked hard at being a good mom and getting a someday successful business off the ground. One minute, I was at a business conference across the country, the next minute I was attending a school recital. I was juggling like a circus clown and thriving, albeit not always as successfully as I’d like to think. Whoever said a woman can have it all should have been stoned on the spot.

Enter life in my 40s. The worry was in full tilt by this time. I woke and went to bed watching the news. I listened to talk radio in the car pool line and raged. I had one child in college and two children in middle school. My husband’s career was demanding more of his time, while I continued to juggle motherhood and my own career. I stressed about money, grades (that weren’t even mine), my health, everyone’s health, girl drama (thankfully, not my girls), college tuition, relationships, sex, drugs, new immunizations, diseases, terrorists, the safety of my family, perimenopause, and an empty nest. By the time I had hit my mid-40s, I was a mess.

However, if 40 is the new 20, I must be reliving that decade all over again, but this time with my eyes wide open. No more ignorance and no more bliss.

But… And this is a big but, I am no longer afraid. I no longer care what people think, say, or do. I don’t give a whip about consumerism, and a good book is far better than any television program. I no longer watch the news or listen to talk radio. If it’s important enough, I’ll find out what I need to know. I don’t have to feel insecure about making it in the world. I’ve already arrived. Battered, beaten, and wiser. I took control of my body and my mind. I’ve changed careers and chose personal fulfillment over money. My children are all adults, thriving and beginning their own quests, but we’re still thick as thieves. I appreciate everything I have with such enormous gratitude, I will sometimes weep at my good fortune. I have everything I have ever wanted and more.

Am I rich? Not even close. Do I worry about money? Yes, but I have resolved that things will work out as they should, as they’ve always done. The stresses have not gone away, but the way I deal with them has changed. Life is not perfect. No one’s life is perfect. But mine is sublimely imperfect in all the right places.

Life in my 40s has been challenging, but I’ve decided I like challenges after all.

P.S. You may also like I Survived the First Year of College,  It's Been Quite a Week, and Are You a Late Bloomer?.

Photo: Moyan Brenn

It's the Quiet Ones You Have to Look Out For

Our family of five consists of three extroverts and two introverts. If David, Michael, and Kate start a conversation, Amanda and I just kind of melt into the background. Actually, we usually leave the room, because the noise is deafening. Don't get me wrong, we can get right in there and hold our own, but we have a threshold. Those three must have a word count they're trying to reach. We like quiet, calm, peace, and we especially need our alone time. 

Poor David came home the other night and I think I might have said five words to the poor guy. I was spent. I had been writing all day long having conversations in my head with my characters, I didn't have any more to give. I know he sort of understands, but sometimes I don't even understand. I hadn't talked much at all that day, what was up?

I'm in the process of reading the book, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain. As you open up the cover, she lists her Manifesto for Introverts. It's such validation. Here are my favorites...

1. There's a word for "people who are in their heads too much": thinkers.
2. Sometimes it helps to be a pretend extrovert. There will always be time for quiet later.
3. It's OK to cross the street to avoid making small talk. 
4. "Quiet leadership" is not an oxymoron.

I've been researching the subject for a while now and I've found a lot of interesting information that has really allowed me to finally feel like I'm okay, normal even. Being an introvert was/is seen as a negative, when in fact, it's actually a positive. Everyone wants to be listened to, and that's what we do best. 

I mentioned that Amanda and I are indeed introverts, when in fact, I've always thought of us as "extroverted introverts". We do like our quiet, but when when we're passionate about something, you can't shut us up. So we may actually be Ambiverts. This person is generally happy to meet new people but might be still uncomfortable if they weren't with at least one other person they knew. On the other hand, that same person would talk your ear off if a topic of interest was to present itself in the same situation. These are some of the characteristics of an Ambivert. (After watching a movie last week, it was decided that I was definitely Divergent, but David would be Factionless. I'll let you look that one up.)

These illustrations, by artist Maureen Wilson, tap right into the core of what being an introvert is like. Among her doodles is a link to an article that suggests that being an introvert may actually be hardwired. Hmmm. As the daughter of two extroverts, I'm thinking it might have skipped a generation. As I look closely at my family tree, I can see a mix of extroverts, introverts, and ambiverts very clearly. So if it doesn't actually skip a generation, it certainly is selective. 

I often ask myself, perhaps because my parents were such extroverts—they were always throwing parties, inviting people over for dinner, going out on the town—I would naturally go the other way. In fact, my sister is the same way. We'd rather spend the night in than face the struggle of going out. I guess we got our fill during our childhood. 

So, what do you think you are?

P.S. 22 Things Only Introverts Understand and Introvert, Shy, Social Anxiety: What's the Difference?

Coloring Books Reduces Stress

Have you noticed all of the coloring books in book stores these days? And these are not just your ordinary coloring books; they're coloring books for adults. I came across this display and thumbed through all of the different styles and designs. They range from whimsical drawings of children, animals, music, and architecture to nature scenes. My favorites happen to include intricate drawings of patterns and geometric shapes. Some are even filled with symbols used in Hinduism and Buddhism for spiritual focus and meditation. 

It turns out that they are actually used to help adults de-stress. And there's a bit of science to back it up. The actual process of coloring generates a feeling of wellness, quiet and calm. At the same time, it also stimulates the brain areas related to motor skills and creativity. By combining the two, we trigger relaxation by lowering the activity of our brain that controls emotions affected by stress. It's basic distraction 101. We focus on the activity and not our worries.... with the added benefit of conjuring up fond childhood memories and using our imagination in ways we probably laid to rest long ago.

Coloring inside the lines has never been more popular.This growing trend extends beyond our borders as European countries and beyond have caught hold of this not-so-new phenomenon. Art therapy is a well-known therapeutic technique. "The creative process of making art to improve a person's physical, mental, and emotional well-being, can help manage behaviors and feelings, reduce stress, and improve self-esteem and awareness."* So, it's little wonder that if we pick up a colored pencil and begin to create on any level, we'll feel better just by choosing the colors we draw with.

Color Me Happy and Color Me Calm, have sold out in each of the five printings since their release. It's not too early to think about holiday presents. Put these at the top of your list!

*Arttherapyblog.com

Stress and Anxiety Triggers

Stress is an unavoidable reality we all live with day to day, but it's how we manage that stress that makes all the difference. For someone with an anxiety disorder, I need to pay very close attention to my triggers and deal with my emotions on the spot if I can. Do you know you're stress triggers and how to deal with them? I know that if I can walk outside and stand in the sun for just a little while, I'll feel better. If I move, I'll feel better. And if I can distract myself from runaway thoughts, I'll feel better.

I came across an interesting article about this subject, only it has to do with your Zodiac sign. Still with me? No, I don't read my horoscope every day, but I do believe in a few things that are (to some) beyond belief like the pull of the moon and the stars and other mind-expanding topics.

I was born in November, right on the cusp of Scorpio and Sagittarius, so I have interesting traits from each. In this article it states that loud noise and yelling can stress me out, and it does (unless I'm the one making all the noise). It also states that invading my privacy or keeping me waiting when I want to go can also get me rattled. In addition, as a S/S, I prefer an uncluttered environment and my outdoor time to keep me on an even keel. All true.

Check out your sign and see if it can enlighten you on how to manage the stress in your life.

Keep me posted.

P.S. You may also like Rain or Shine and Living in the Moment.

Photo: John Fraissinet

Emotional Release

Exercise, or any form of working and moving with your body, is more than just physical. It allows you to breathe, think, and let go. During one of my last acupuncture sessions, I started to cry. Silent tears began to roll down my cheeks and I let them. I was surprised by the amount of emotion I felt, but it was all over in less than 5 minutes. I left feeling great after my session.

This isn't the first time tears were shed after working with my body. I've cried after I've pushed it to its limits, after feeling the wind blow through my hair during a walk or bike ride, and while I've leaned into some of my favorite stretches during yoga, and yes, during acupuncture. Sometimes I expected it. I often use working out as a way to deal with my emotions. If I'm too stressed, worried, or overwhelmed, I hit the floor or get outside.

It's actually not uncommon. I recently read a Time magazine article about why women are now crying at the gym—on purpose. Although the article was mainly about one particular class, I started to connect the dots. Physical release begets emotional release, whether it's because you're just so darn glad your body can now rest after pushing through the pain, or the pride you feel after completing something you didn't think you could do. But it goes beyond that. Our bodies are letting go of toxins through sweat and tears. It's stirring up a chemical cocktail that makes us feel better. Allow it to happen—encourage it to happen.

I used to stifle my tears, but not anymore.

Photo: Paolo Neoz

Carbs Can be a Good Thing

Since I changed my diet, I'm always asked if I've given up carbs. The answer is an unequivocal NO. I used to eat too many carbohydrates, but my body needs carbs. I don't feel well if I don't include them in some form or fashion. A low-carb diet will help you lose more weight and reduce your risk of heart disease, but not all carbs are created equal. Carbohydrates are essential fuel for our bodies (especially when engaging in any physical activity) and our brains (carbs regulate mood). The phrase you've heard again and again—everything in moderation—turns out to be mostly true. The trick is to know which carbs are good for you, so if you can remember fiber versus sugar, you're on the right path. (And even some sugars are good for you, too.)

My favorite snack happens to be popcorn. I make a batch at least three times a week. I make cook-it-on-the-stove popcorn with a little canola oil and a pinch of salt. (You could add a touch of chili powder or taco seasoning for more flavor.) This childhood comfort food has stuck with me. Here's the good news: Popcorn is a whole grain. One cup has 6 grams of carbs, one of which is fiber, and has only 31 calories.

Here are some of my other favorites...

Bananas. I eat at least one a day. A medium-size banana contains 3 grams of fiber and a hearty dose of vitamin B6, crucial for more than 100 different functions in the body, including calming the body.

Oatmeal. I prefer to eat this during the winter months and I sprinkle a little cinnamon on top. The particular type of fiber in oats has been linked to improved heart health, weight management, and has helped reduce cholesterol.

Blueberries. I eat fresh when I can and frozen when I can't, and they're a must-have ingredient in my fruit shake recipe. This super fruit offers some fiber and a whole host of vitamins and antioxidants. Eating just one serving a week has been linked with warding off cognitive decline as we age.

To take it a step further...if you're feeling stressed or anxious, try eating carbohydrates. The effect that carbohydrates have is their ability to produce serotonin. (Serotonin gives you a calm and relaxed feeling.) It is also important to include vitamin B6 in your diet as it ensures the production of serotonin. Carbohydrate rich foods like pop corn, oatmeal, and berries, helps fight cortisol (which my body does not make enough of); a stress hormone produced by the adrenal glands that when not regulated can lead to auto-immune diseases as well as other health issues.

Carbs: Good for the body and the mind.

You may also enjoy, Rain or Shine.

As with any change in diet, you should always check with your health-care professional first.

Photo: ThomasLife

Rain Or Shine

Rain or shine, this is where I am most afternoons. In fact, as I write this post I'm getting ready to put on my running shoes and walk out the door. I'm fortunate to live in a town that's not far from several parks and has countless walking, biking, and hiking trails. Not to mention the high school track. I basically schedule my day around my youngest daughter's school schedule and this track. Boring? Not to me. When I walk in the woods I'm constantly looking at my feet so I don't trip, so I really appreciate being able to look around without falling down.

Just about a year and a half ago, walking around this track just once had me gasping for breath. But that's how my year-of-better-health came to be. Now I can actually run around it, but I'm not a runner. I'm a very fast walker who occasionally runs to test my endurance. I can walk 2 miles in about 30 minutes. Is that good? Bad? It's good enough. I also do a series of exercises that my generation would have called calisthenics or aerobics. Although I do like my Bowflex and Ab Glider, too, I just prefer to be able to sit, lie, or stand on the floor and get something done. Oh, and I love my bike.

In addition to exercise, I eat as healthy as I possibly can. The reason I bring this up is that I am constantly being asked, "What did you do?". I wised up. I realized I wasn't 20, or even 40 anymore. I was a middle-aged, soon-to-be-statistic if I didn't do something about it. So I did. I switched doctors and then I went to see a naturopath, chiropractor, and acupuncturist. I threw away all of the processed food in the house. I started shopping at the organic grocery store. And I kept at it.

I drink lots and lots of water and I make my everyday food more interesting by cooking recipes like Orange Chicken Stir Fry. I eat clean meats (certified organic), lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, good fats (olive oil, almonds, avocado), and no processed foods. Do I cheat? Sometimes. But I pay for it. My body now craves good food like it used to crave bad food. In all honesty, I didn't cheat for the first 6 months at least. (Email me if you really, truly want to know what I eat each day.)

As the temperatures start to drop, I'll have to put away my bike and exchange my running shoes for a pair of warm boots, but I will be out there every day I can until the snow prevents me from walking on the bare asphalt. I'm told we're in for a snowy winter. That's when I'll hit the snowmobile trails at the state park while my dogs keep me company—rain or shine.

Confessions of a Writer in Transition

It's been quite a while since I've posted anything about writing, and very little about reading for that matter. I'd like to say the reason for the former is because I've been incredibly busy (which I have), but that's an empty excuse. The truth is I've been afraid. If you remember my Moving On post I wrote, then you know that my goal at that time was to take the bull by the horns and really focus on this area of my life. As I was looking up this post, I realized that I wrote it more than a year and a half ago. That was a real eye-opener.

Like everything I seem to do, I did take the bull by the horns. I immersed myself in self-study, wrote every day, noted every topic, idea, word, phrase, sentence, and feeling I would use in my prose. And then I freaked out. Literally. I couldn't pick up a book or notebook without sending shock waves through my system. I was losing sleep and my heart started to race. Reading for enjoyment went out the window because now I was studying every author's style instead of enjoying the story. Pen and paper—some of my favorite things—became the enemy. I even bought a beautiful refillable leather journal that would become my bible and then felt enormous guilt over the cost. I cast it aside.

I knew that anything that I wrote would not become a best-seller. I had no illusions of grandeur. All I wanted to do was complete a few projects just for the sake of accomplishment. I wanted to continue blogging about life and family. And I wanted to see my name in print every now and again just like I had been doing the last ten years. So what was all of this fuss about?

Fear of failure. Fear of success.

Over the summer, I finally picked up my journal after months of neglect, But it's been sitting in my room ever since I returned, unopened. I get my writing fix through my safe, easy-to-write blog posts. I told myself at least it was something. I hadn't completely gone over the edge and buried writing forever. It was a start.

So why am I confessing all of this now? I'm throwing this out to the universe to see where it lands. My sister-in-law took a leap of faith this past summer and up and quit her job and moved out of the city. She'd been in a rut she thought she could never get out of and it was eating her alive. She needed change, a big change, and she was brave enough to walk through that door and never look back. I envy that. I used to be like that.

No, I am like that. I just lost my way for a time.

I'm reading again, albeit not nearly as much as I used to. I'm writing again, but in fits and starts. I am clearly not the same person who wrote that post a year and a half ago. Big changes have occurred in my life over the last year and a half—some of them negative and some of them positive. Ironically, and as it usually happens, the positive aspects were born from the negative. I got healthy—physically and mentally. It's been a process and it's not over yet. But I can finally see over to the other side.

Photo: literaryinklings.com

Orange Chicken Stir Fry

It's been a while since I've written about food. You see, a year and a half ago I completely changed my diet. Completely. I was a true carboholic, loved my potato chips, and a glass of wine always tasted better with just about any kind of junk food you could put in front of me. When I was younger, I was thin and trim and could eat anything I wanted. Until I had children. I never liked exercise, but I did like to cook. Not a good combination. Three children and twenty odd years later, I gained a lot of weight. Then I got a big wake-up call. I now know what the term scared straight means only my addiction happened to be food.

I now eat a clean, mostly organic diet and exercise my butt off. Because, dear readers, that's the only way it comes off. This is one of the recipes I consider to be healthy junk food, it tastes that good. You can also read my post Rain or Shine to see what else I do.

And if you want to read more recipes like this one, click on the Food & Recipes link in the navigation bar or subscribe to the blog and they'll come straight to your inbox. (Check out some more favorite chicken recipes.)

Enjoy!

Orange Chicken Stir Fry

The sauce

• 1/2 jar orange marmalade (12 oz.)
• 2 large garlic cloves
• 2 tbsp. soy sauce (I use low sodium)
• 1 tsp. minced ginger
• a dash of honey (sugar or agave)

The Stir Fry

• 1 lb. chicken breast cut into strips or chunks
• 4 cups chopped broccoli crowns. (You could add 1 sliced red pepper as well.)
• 1 tbsp. olive oil
• salt and pepper to taste

Optional: you can add rice or noodles to this recipe. I prefer to eat it without.

Put it all together

1. Depending on how you like your sauce, you could place all of the ingredients in a blender so it's nice and smooth or simply combine the ingredients together making sure to mince the garlic.

2. Steam or sauté the broccoli. If you steam the broccoli, it should take about 5 minutes to cook. If you sauté, it will depend on how well done you like your broccoli. Coat a pan in a little olive oil and heat through or brown. Approximately 10 minutes. You could even add some sauce to the pan and caramelize the broccoli.

3. Sauté chicken in a pan covered in olive oil until almost done (approximately 5 minutes). Add a bit of the sauce to the chicken and remove from the heat.

4. Combine the chicken, broccoli, and sauce together and heat through.

 Serves 3-4 people.

Worrywart

I’m a worrier. I wasn’t surprised to learn I would worry more once I became a mother, but I was a seasoned professional long before the additional worry of motherhood was placed on my shoulders. I worry about the usual things, and sometimes I worry about the unusual—things my husband assures me will never happen. Ha. He, of course, is not a worrier. My mother is a worrier, too. I wonder if it’s in the blood. That cautious, dip-my-toe-in-but-go-no-further feeling has affected every aspect of my life. Sometimes it overwhelms me and sometimes I’m able to cast it aside letting reason take the reins. Did I mention I’m a bit of a control-freak, too? Well, there you go.

The girls took their first trip to Sugarbush on Monday. After receiving over a foot of powder over the weekend, they ditched our local mountain in favor for some deep, white, real snow. I didn’t want to know how big the mountain was. I didn’t want to know how fast the lifts would get them to the top. I just wanted them to be careful—really careful. I can’t even count the number of times I told my husband to drive safely. All day long I counted the hours assuring myself that they were fine.

When I take them to Crotched, I stick around sometimes to see how they’re doing and I try to time them coming down, just so I can lay eyes on them and reassure myself that they are indeed, just fine. I never could look before. Now I can, but I still get a lump in my throat. Crotched is expanding next year with a faster lift that will shoot them straight to the top. Terrific. For some reason I thought this mountain would be safer for them. That was until I got a call six weeks ago letting me know my youngest daughter was taken to ski patrol. She had fallen off a box (jump) and broke her wrist. After the initial shock, and the realization that it could have been a lot worse, I thought I had crossed some sort of threshold—she got hurt; we’re in the clear. But the worry only grew.

Skiing down a mountain, my oldest daughter driving our pick-up, dating. That rope of safety we parents hang on to is getting let out a little more each day. And the gray hair is multiplying at an alarming rate.  I’ve traded in small worries for bigger worries as the years have gone by. Skinning a knee is a piece of cake, or so I’ve found out. My oldest daughter has one more year of high school before she heads off to college. I’m already shaking in my boots. This will be round two for hubby and me. We survived the college years once already with our son, but… girls are different. It’s not fair, it just is.

As I sat down to watch some TV with the girls just yesterday, the snow started to fall and quickly silenced the noise in my head. I felt at peace. We were all home, safe and sound, passing jokes back and forth as quickly as we could think of them. And for a small moment in time, I didn’t worry about a thing. I was just happy to be with them.

Living In the Moment

While I was away on vacation, I was usually up before the birds, but never the squirrels. These little critters were everywhere this year (last year it was rabbits) and they kept themselves busy playing with the chipmunks. I enjoyed watching them run back and forth between fallen logs and under piles of pine needles, to and fro, here and there, without a care in the world. Luckily, I had my camera nearby when this little guy decided to take a break and pose for a photo.

It was in moments like this that I was reminded to slow down and just enjoy what was happening, when it was happening, and not worry about what’s coming next. This was especially true this year knowing my sister-in-law was suffering from stress headaches, my youngest daughter from swimmer’s ear, and while I waited to hear the results of another surprise surgery for my Mom. I needed to remind myself that unplanned events will continue to happen and I just needed to breathe and focus on my emotional health, too. It’s easy to let it get away from you.

Life is busy and we’re always on to the next thing never slowing down to enjoy the time we have right in front of us, and often letting the present slip away. We work for the weekends, and when Friday finally arrives, we cram as much as we can into those two days until it’s time to worry about facing Monday. Then, we fly through the weeks as if time doesn’t matter. We give even less thought as to how we will get from A to Z with any sense of fulfillment. It’s no wonder we have trouble taking things in one at a time.

Psychologists believe that if we live in the moment – also called mindfulness – we can reduce stress and chronic pain, boost our immune system, lower blood pressure, and solve a host of other physical and emotional disorders, such as depression and anxiety. Mindfulness (a state of active, open, intentional attention on the present) involves being with your thoughts as they are, neither grasping at them nor pushing them away.* If, like me, you’ve ever experienced a moment when you have no memory of the previous 15 minutes, you’re not alone. These autopilot spans of time are what Harvard’s Ellen Langer calls mindlessness – times when you’re so lost in thought that you aren’t aware of your present experience.* We’re so sure we know what to expect that we stop paying attention to it.

So what do we do? Don’t just do something, sit there. Enjoy each and every moment as the day unfolds. Start small. Wake up early to enjoy breakfast or a morning walk, read or journal. Use a pretty plate and cup for breakfast or tie a colorful ribbon in your hair to keep it out of your eyes as you walk through your neighborhood or the woods. When you’re at work, focus on what you’re doing first, and then pat yourself on the back when you’ve completed a task. Set manageable goals – things you’ll get done between certain times or morning vs. afternoon – in order to feel like you’re making progress. Take it one step at a time and forget the big picture for a minute. Drink and eat slowly savoring every sip and swallow. Pack your lunch with care and tantalize your taste buds with sweet and salty, smooth and crunchy. Sit at the table instead of standing. When you get home from work, take care of any chores immediately so you can enjoy some leisure time. Treat yourself to something fun or indulgent once a week – a soy vanilla latte, a small bouquet of flowers, a night at the movies. Let the things that bring you joy into your daily life and don’t wait for a special occasion, the weekend, or your next vacation.

Like you, I am trying to be mindful of being mindful. It takes effort. Just be careful not to plan too much. I have brought the joy of living outdoors back from vacation and revel in nature any chance I get. I’ve learned that connecting to the outdoors, in any way, improves my mood immeasurably. I enjoy meals more if I eat them outdoors. I feel less stressed about something if I take a few minutes to walk outside and take a deep breath. I even try to work outside to make some of the more tedious parts of my work entertaining. And while I’m there, I do take the time to look around and listen to the wind.

It’s a start.

*Psychologytoday.com