That’s my mantra. Use your words, kiddo, use your words.
The things I need to think about — constantly. What do I most want to be? What kind of life do I want to live? One that is steeped in quiet. Not silence, but quiet. Soft voices, low music. Stories told. Pages turned. The burble of laughter that babies excel in. The whispers of friends who just simply can’t stand it one more minute without sharing what’s top of mind in that second and you just have to hear this and I can’t tell anyone else because only you will understand . . . .
Kind. To be kind and to receive kindness. My yoga instructor (teacher being far too narrow a word) always speaks of kindness. To our aging bodies and to ourselves. I have trouble with that. I turn on me first – then the next person to happen through. To learn kindness in middle life is an interesting thing. I haven’t always been kind, in fact, I’ve been sort of a jerk and I find a cleanliness with kindness that is refreshing and clears the path for me – whether in yoga class or on the sidewalk.
Grateful as in grace. Having the grace to accept what is and not constantly fight against it. Battering with both fists against the walls I see and the walls I build. Living a grateful life is really important to me now and I feel a calm that comes with being grateful for what is rather than wishing, hoping, demanding what isn’t.
I’m not a positive person. I’m a cynic, a skeptic and a featured player on the dark side of the moon. My first response is never to look for the good – but always to assume the worst. Working on that. That’s why positive earns a star player post on the mantra. Positive not like a ninny but willing to assume the best from others. Willing to believe that people try and if they don’t, well, does it really matter on my stage? Probably not.