Pause, Breathe, Decide

The other day a friend was focused on something I had put to bed after only a little bit of thought. We were on the phone and he was focused, almost obsessed, like it was crucial. He had spent hours anxiously working on it and couldn't understand how I could be so calm.

As we talked, I felt pulled by his expectations. Maybe I should be more concerned. Have I missed something important? I felt his anxiety creeping in as I doubted myself.

Then I paused and took a deep breath.

He kept talking, but I stepped out of his storm into a quiet, protected space for a moment.

I skimmed the plan I had put in place as he talked about his concerns and worries about his planning. My plan still looked good enough to me if not for him.

I breathed again and thought, I'm okay.

I climbed back into the conversation, secure enough in my decisions that his storm raged on without disturbing me.

The pause and deep breath allowed me to name the anxiety I felt and decide whether or not to keep feeling it. My children tire of me saying it but anxiety (among many other things) is a choice. The pause and deep breath give me a chance to make good choices.

The pause, breath, and decision separated me from my friend's anxiety. Losing myself in his anxiety, I'm not good to me, the people I lead, or my friend. Separate from his anxiety, I connect better with him and myself.

It's a self-centered technique in two ways. One, I take a moment to think about myself. Two, it centers my self so I'm of use to others. That kind of selfishness pays dividends for everyone.

After pausing, breathing, deciding, and getting some space, I came back to the conversation and eased my friend's anxiety a little. I showed him I had chose not to be anxious about it.

However it worked out for him, I came out more centered and balanced than I had gone in. All from a brief pause and deep breath which made room for a good choice. Quite a return from so simple a technique.

Five Years Ago and Ahead

Yesterday, I looked back at Morning Pages I wrote in 2016, back when I felt trapped in a terrible, punishing job and lost in my life. A lot has changed in five years.

Then I got thinking about the paper on which I was writing. It's a page I designed in a word processor, lines I print on the backs of used paper. The design has changed a bunch since 2016 and I continue to tweak and refine it.

The page design in 2016 was good. Refinements have made it better. I expect more changes because I need to keep going toward better.

This reminds me of walking the path toward enlightenment, something I've no expectation of achieving. Still, I walk the path because movement feels good. Looking back at my 2016 writing, maybe I'm just that much closer to enlightenment, some small sprout of it growing within me.

These last five years haven't been easy, but they haven't been all that difficult either. Walking a path is just one step and then another, one day and then another. I'm not trying to minimize what I've accomplished. I'm just trying for some perspective. Mostly it has been a matter of simply accepting of what is, being open to what might be, and trying to stay mindful of my choices.

In 2016, I resisted, closed myself, and thought I had no choices. The world was against me. I see now that I had locked my own cage and had the key in my pocket. Turns out that the way to change my world is mostly a matter of changing myself. Make one choice, then another, wake up tomorrow, and do it again.

In five years, I'll look back at this morning's pages and feel changed. Even the lined page will be different. I'll have chosen to keep refining. I'll be that much farther down the path. Though it's difficult to imagine being much happier than I am now.

Taking Stock

A guy on Twitter was confused by people saying to save vegetable peels to make stock. He said he can afford, when the time comes, to just buy an onion for it.

I get that this was Twitter, home of the knee-jerk reaction and snark, but it stuck with me.

I don't want to buy a fresh onion for stock. I usually keep a bag of onion peel, carrot ends, and wilted celery in the freezer. This is mostly in the winter when I want soups, but sometimes in the summer too. I haven't this summer, but the tweet reminded me to start again.

It bothers me to waste money, time, natural resources, and opportunities to create. I've wasted a lot of these things and I know I'll waste more. Still, it seems worthwhile on many levels to try to waste less. It doesn't require much.

Mostly, I think the guy's tweet is a bad message. I have no idea how many followers he has — I can't remember who posted it — but no one reading it was well served. Except maybe me.

Her's my message: put an old bread bag in the freezer. When chopping onions, carrots, and celery, push the cuttings into the bag instead of the garbage bin. Keep going until the bag is full.

Then, some weekend, empty the bag into a big pot, add water to cover, throw in some spices (cloves make the house smell great), boil, reduce to simmer, cook for a couple hours or longer (for stronger stock).

When you strain out the vegetables, you'll see, smell, and taste stock you created seemingly out of nothing, but in fact out of everything. Either way, it feels and tastes better than snark, and it's cheaper than buying and wasting a fresh onion.