This Monday morning the light snuck through the sliver between the curtains. I was happy to be on its receiving end. I smiled. I immediately recalled Sunday’s sunset. A site upon which I recited the old saying, “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight, red sky at morn, sailors be warned.” I just knew Monday would be a beautiful day. And it is. It nearly went South, but I had the good mind to stop it.
Yesterday, following the sunset, I attended a lovely restorative yoga practice and meditation at Essencia. Afterward, the ten of us were drunk on good karma and open chakras. We spoke about our nature to go, go, go and not stop. The conversation reminded me of a story a friend recently shared about pausing and being purposeful. She and a former lover often took midnight strolls around Lake Ellyn. I imagined them savoring the reflection of the stars that glistened on the still water; their steps like little secrets, unknown and unheard by all the neighbors fast asleep. I love that story. I thought about how I too make my way out in the middle of the night, typically prompted by needy dogs. The moonlight is magical, evidence of which is my shadow on the pavement. I sometimes say hello to the stars and moon. I always smile. Magical moonbeams coupled with the rising and setting of the sun make me feel most connected to the universe.
I also feel connected through Meditation, especially when it’s led by Kristin. She led a pranayama meditation that opened the seven chakras, a color is associated with each one. I could not visualize red, yellow, and orange and thought there was something wrong with me. All of my colors were shades of blue and green, teals, indigo, and silver. Afterward, Jeannine told me my first three chakras were already open. Cool!
That is the beauty of yoga. It is the best mind fuck. I let go of all the junk and just clear my mind. I felt so much better last night than I did before the practice. I even promised not to use the f-bomb until after midnight. My friends laughed at that vow, given my proclivity for swearing. But, I didn’t need to. Swearing is cathartic and the practice was a successful catharsis.
In fact, that mental and spiritual levity carried over to this fine Monday morning. It nearly disappeared this afternoon when I let my daughter’s crabbiness get the better of me. But, then I stopped it. I wasn’t buying the shit that she was selling. I mentally and physically detached myself from her. As she was complaining about how stressful seventh grade is (this happens every Monday), I turned my ears off. I grabbed the binder on the desk that was stuffed with my recipes that more than a month ago I asked Bridget to hole punch, sort, and organize. I was tired of her Monday complaining and of being upset that she didn’t complete the recipe project. I took the recipes, the binder, divider, and three-hole punch upstairs to the dining room table. In 15 minutes, beef, chicken, fish, pork, and vegetarian were all sorted, separated by their respective dividers, and I planned out the dinners for the upcoming week. My separation from my daughter’s rant, the creation of physical space from her, the mental reprieve I found from the focused task, and the joy of I received from accomplishing it, made me feel good again.
Mondays afternoons are typically moody. Bridget storms in resentful at this cruel world that requires her to attend school. And you know what, that’s her problem. I don’t need to take that on. Today I learned I don’t want moody or manic Mondays. And, with a little bit of mindfulness, I can keep the day’s mood swings at bay.