I am alive, I am breathing, that is enough. That is good.

This morning, amid packing lunches and feeding the kids breakfast and getting into the car to make it to school on time, was a morning that I fully felt the benefits of a mindfulness practice. There is a lot going on. You know what, though? There always is. In my life, and in yours, too, there is a lot going on.

We all have things we have to do to live, to maintain healthy relationships, to continue feeding ourselves and providing shelter for our family. Mornings are nearly always hectic in our house because I like to sleep until the very last possible second. Then I burst out of bed in a flurry of get dressed! Brush teeth! Breakfast! Pack lunch! Kiss-kiss! Goodbye! I have a board meeting this afternoon and an evening meeting of the community garden. It would be easy to get lost in the fray, swept away by the endless river of emotions and tasks flowing forcefully through our lives. It would be easy to even feel somewhat victimized by the steady and unrelenting onslaught of stuff to do.

There is a lot going on. When I am honest with myself, I realize that on some level, I am inviting these things into my life. Would I want it any other way? Less time with my kids and my spouse? A job that was less meaningful to me? Less time working in the community? If I had more time, I’d probably invite MORE things into my life. More things to do and learn about! More people to love! More beings to care for!

The problem is not necessarily that I have to do things or that I want to love and care for other beings. Nor is the problem that I am short on time. In fact, if someone were to wave a magic wand and give me four or eight or ten more hours in the day, I’d probably end up taking on more projects and more volunteer work and bigger workloads. If unchecked, the stress would ratchet right back up.

The real problem is that I let myself feel victimized by my to-do list. I let feelings of fear and anxiety and stress creep over me, often unrecognized, and allow them to attach themselves to every day tasks. In the end, these are just tasks that need to be completed. I attach feelings to both the activities on my to-do and the to-do list itself. Also, too often, I use them as a proxy for my self worth. Is my list long? Good. That means that I am valuable and doing things that matter. No, bad. Because it means I am lazy and inefficient. Am I crossing stuff off my to-do list? Good, because then I will be relieved from pressures and will be able to relax. No, bad, because I must be missing things that are more important than whatever was on my list before.

I get swept away by the anxiety and stress and just sheer busyness and forget to breathe. I forget that in every moment, with everything, I have the ability to breathe. And smile. And be fully present. Fear amplifies when the object of fear is at a distance, but living and breathing in the very moment, everything is manageable. I am learning that everything is not only bearable, it is often even pleasurable. Making lunches, chewing my toast, closing the car door, typing on the keyboard. This moment. This breath.

This morning I came face to face with the fact that life is busy, but mindfulness is not something that gets added to the to-do list. It is the fabric that wraps it all together. Mindfulness is not a skill I have to spend a week at a retreat center in order to learn and practice. I can be present any time, anywhere, and especially when my list of things to do is long and I feel stretched thin. I have a power tool that enables me to endure and thrive in scary, stressful and sad moments. My power tool is my conscious breath. I am alive, I am breathing. That is enough. That is good.

I leave you with a wonderful breathing meditation by Thích Nhất Hạnh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, teacher, poet, peace activist and author of many books, including the one I am reading right now, Peace is Every Step:

Breathing in, I calm my body
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment
I know this is a wonderful moment. 

That is all.

PS- No, it is not all. Ella started school last week and after a bumpy first day involving her new teacher having to gently pry Ella’s tiny fingers from around my neck and me having to force a brave smile and walk away confidently, Ella loves school. She has made wonderful friends and has already gone to one birthday party and talks about dancing and recess and her new friends. I have pictures, but they are not here. I’ll try to get them posted soon.

PPS- our washing machine officially died on Monday. Since we inherited it from Chris’ parents and it is at least fifteen years old, we can’t really complain. We have a new one on order, but won’t have clean clothes until Monday of next week. So if you see me and I seem distant, it could be because I stink.

PPPS- That is all. Happy Wednesday.