My writing has been really loosely structured: sometimes a short essay, or a poem, a funny story or a character profile. This yoga-meditation-writing trifecta of making time for myself and settling into the business of being in the present (instead of preparing for what's next) has meant that I am pretty short on time to write here. And when I do, I feel empty of worthwhile content.
My efforts have been fruitful and have started getting some wheels in motion. I have noticed that I am a lot more positive and optimistic knowing that I am not under any deadlines, with no lofty goals ahead of me. I have nothing to do but be present, and this freedom has lightened my spirit. This makes it a lot easier to be present. Being present, for me, has manifested as a warmth that builds inside of me when I pause to notice something beautiful: the morning sun coming through an umbrella of fiery fall leaves in an oak tree, observing the joy in Summer's run as she chases Skylar, the comfort and joy of a kitchen warmed by dinner cooking in the oven. I am really pausing inside these moments and sitting as long as I can before moving on.
I am listening better, looking people in the eye, measuring my responses (instead of feeling guilty for reactions) more often. I am feeling inspired to write a quick little ditty in my notebook when I notice something worth recording. I am feeling stronger, longer and more spacious in my body with daily yoga.
I am practicing being here, and letting myself falter. I still yell more than I'd like, my back and/or neck are usually sore after a day with the girls, my writing is pretty aimless and unstructured, I have no freelancing projects on the go. I have a long list of ways to improve. But these days I am looking at that list and choosing to be a little more tender with myself, instead of feeling like I don't measure up to my own impossibly high standards. I am learning more about what it means to carpe diem in the smallest, most beautiful ways my days allow.