I'm Not Buying What You're Yelling

Today I sat with frustration and self-judgment.

I dropped my youngest off at school and took care of a couple errands since I was not substitute teaching (bank deposit, prescription pick up, grabbed a couple items at the grocery store).  Then I headed home to start my day.  I had quite a few things I needed to get completed, a few I wanted to mark off the list, and many other things I'd actually love to do.

First, the necessary-I needed to practice my mindful meditation (yes, it needed to happen). I needed to clean the kitchen, sweep, and mop.  I needed to dust and vacuum.  I needed to wash, dry, and replace the linens on the beds.  I needed to type up and mail out some invoices for my dad's water well business.  There are also some well reports to enter and some payments to reconcile, and a couple of tax things I needed to take a look at.  I also needed to take care of a subscription for an app on the tv that needs to be properly renewed.

Second, the optional-My income taxes are hanging over my head as well and I want to get them finalized.   Both bathrooms could stand to be given a once over as well (but that's not a top priority for today). I should do some yoga. I should make some calls about starting teaching crochet classes.

Last, the longings-Crochet! I'd love to just sit and crochet All The Things! I'm creating a pattern and I'd love to complete it.  I'd love to straighten and organize all the yarn I inherited from my grandmother. I'd love to fire up my metal foundry and work out the kinks in the design.

I got home, the to-do's bouncing around in my head, and I tidied up for a while in the kitchen, gathered linens from one bedroom and placed those in the washer, ate an apple with some peanut butter, and finally made myself take a seat on my cushion to meditate.

I sat for 20 minutes in mindful meditation.

Let me rephrase...I practiced mindful meditation, or better yet, struggled through a practice.

That sounds better.  It's a practice. It's not a performance. It's not perfect. And for me, it's often a task that requires work and tenacity.

I sat and immediately noticed that I actually felt guilty for practicing today.  The guilt comes from the fact that I was able to meditate today at 10:00 a.m.  Why the guilt?  Well, I am not working at a full-time job currently. I substitute and help my dad, but neither of those constitutes full-time employment. And so I never feel like I'm contributing enough. I should not have the time on my hands to sit at 10:00 a.m. I hear the ugly voice in my head yelling, "Get off your ass and get to work! You are not doing enough!"

Rarely do I feel like I do enough, like I am enough.

I don't make enough. I don't work on my dad's business enough. I don't spend enough time with my mom. I don't help out around my parent's house enough. I don't spend enough time with my kids. I don't clean enough, cook enough, exercise enough, meditate enough. I don't keep in touch with my friends enough. I don't support my people enough. I don't see my extended family enough. I don't read enough, journal enough, blog enough. I don't help others enough. I don't advocate or socially engage enough.

I am simply not enough.

I noticed all these feelings clamoring around in my head and I noticed frustration.

I brought my attention back to my breath, to the sound of the washer churning, to the bird chirping, to the coffee pot clicking. I noticed the sound of my breath and my surroundings. I breathed and I sat.

I noticed the judgments, the frustration, and the ugly voice still yelling. I listened to my breath.

I felt the heaviness in my chest, the pressure in my head, the pulse in my temple, the knot in my stomach. I felt the uneven balance in my posture, one wrist touching my thigh more than the other. I felt the irritation at noticing the unevenness.  I sat with the desire to adjust my posture and the stillness I practiced, and I took a deep breath.

I listened to my surroundings and silently repeated the phrase, "What do you notice most in your current field of awareness?" And I noticed my breath and the wind rustling outside the windows.

I noticed the wind a bit more and the ugly voice a tiny bit less. I noticed sadness at the words the voice continued to yell. I continued to feel the weight on my chest.

I noticed my mind wander. I thought about how long I had been sitting, and how much longer it would be until the bell rang to end my practice. I refocused on my breath.

I noticed the light from the sunshine outside changing the shapes inside my closed eyes. I thought about how you can "see" those shapes with your eyes closed. I noticed my mind had wandered off on this "sight" rabbit trail and I returned to my breath.

Eventually, the bell rang and my practice ended. I bowed my head in gratitude for my practice.

I still feel like I am not enough. I still question my worth. I am still frustrated. I still hear that damn ugly voice.

Mindfulness did not miraculously cure my chaotic brain, but it did help me to simply notice what my brain is saying. I can notice what is being said (or shouted) and realize I do not have to always buy what my brain is selling. I can breathe through the yelling.

I can notice, I can breathe, I cannot get hooked, and I can let it be.

Come walk with me...

This is where I sat today.
I'm smiling. I will breathe and let it be.