I came home tired the other day – flat. Feeling the pressure of all the tasks I “should” be doing. Hearing the list of responsibilities that were calling my name. The weight of obligation over pleasure or rest.
When things start to feel like this, I tend to put my head down, my blinkers on and just keep ploughing through. It’s as though there’s no time to stop and breathe – that somehow I don’t “deserve” to just yet. And life turns into a dead to-do list or a string of endless homework.
Have you ever felt a bit like that?
The way it was just blossoming all over the place, white spilling out purple and yellow, literally brought me to my senses again.
It invited me to look closer:
• at its petals and patterns
• at this moment of light and colour and scent
• at life as it is just now.
So, in a way, it was mindfulness in action.
And that’s the thing about mindfulness. It’s nothing “special.” Yet it’s immensely potent. It can reconnect you to a sense of the sacred even in the middle of the mundane. It’s something you can tap into at any moment you like. And it can add untold fathoms of depth to even the flattest of days.
By asking you to consciously connect with yourself as a sensory doorway into reality – your reality. What you can see, smell, taste, feel right now. Here.
And, in part, by allowing you to detect the possibly infinite permutations of these experiences.
By lifting you free of the myth of “the daily grind” and letting you experience how this breath, this breeze, this sound, this moment – this day – is different from all others. Different, and worth walking into… rather than sort of forgetting or overlooking or blocking out.
And it only takes a second to remember all this.
To reconnect with it.
To reunite yourself with your life, in a way.
To invite whole new dimensions in, even when you might feel bland and flat to start with.
Mindfulness – perhaps a homecoming and a blossoming all at once…