Lifestyle, Power February 28, 2018

This Morning

I heard the first bird song this morning at 6:06, before the sun came up.

While I drank my coconut water mixed with greens powder and Ashwaganda and stood on my back porch. Then I took my probiotic. Drank two glasses of water. Cleaned the few remaining dishes out of the sink. Made coffee. Watered the plants. Fed the dog. Pet the dog. Walked outside. Pet the dog again. Picked up the dog and snuggled him (Very important step.) Poured coffee. Lit a candle. Sat to write.

Being.

Reflecting back, I don’t recall a single thought.

(Transparency: Had a stray emotional thought before getting out of bed about Ellie and the fact that she is driving now, but I’m going to write about it in a bit, after I exercise. Important distinction here — after I move my body and change my physical state. Move some of the energy around, then go back to it. I’ve learned that giving time to thoughts that arise before I get out of bed is usually not useful. They’re sneaky. Back to Being.)

I sat quietly at my desk. Scanned my environment and my mind.

Good morning. Welcome. What’s happening today?

This morning is not unlike any other morning. I don’t water the plants every day, or sit to write at the this time every single day, sometimes I exercise at this time, but all the rest is my ritual.

I never planned out my mornings to look like this. It just happens. It’s comfortable. It’s quiet. It works. It must, or it wouldn’t happen this way.

This is when I open the space for my mind, slowly.

If I fling open the door and let everything rush in at once, it’s quite overwhelming. Chaos and pandemonium can ensue. All the things and thoughts start running around, crashing into each other, climbing for priority, importance and meaning. Then doubt and judgment want to completely take over and referee the whole scene.

That is not how I want to start the day. Any day. Ever.

So I don’t. Even on days when I have an early meeting or travel or many things stacked and need to start super early.

My mind doesn’t get to clock in until it’s appropriately scheduled time. With an invitation. Google can work well if that’s what it takes.

I am sincerely devoted to Mastering my Mind. Whatever it takes.

My Being/Truth sets the tone for the day and creates a healthy environment and physical state for my mind to be activated. Being is where Power lives. It’s where Love lives. It’s where Peace lives.

My mind doesn’t get to run the show. It is based on years of programming that may or may not be accurate, and many of those programs were placed and projected onto me by others. And some my young mind didn’t know how to process, so it created false beliefs that just don’t serve me anymore. No fault or blame here. Just what happened.

My mind does work well at what it’s job actually is. Which is performing tasks and doing things. That’s probably about it. Creating a plan, a schedule, a spreadsheet, a map. Good mind work. Get in there and get it done. (Although I might even argue that somewhat…)

Anything else, is the work of Being.

My sincere desire is to live from Truth.

Truth doesn’t come from anywhere outside of me or from anything anyone (including my own mind) will say to me. Either written or spoken. Sure, I love to read books and listen to podcasts and go to workshops and have beautiful conversations. Information is entertaining. Language can point to Truth and create an opening. Much like me writing all of this down and now you are reading it. It’s opening a door, which you may or may not walk through.

Truth can only be experienced. And I can only experience it, when it arises in me.

A deep resonance from within.

Never in my mind as an intellectual process or from an external source.

I can hear your possible questions:

What are you talking about?
How can I separate my mind from my Being?
I’m creating my thoughts, how can they not be true?
How can you NOT be in your mind?
My mind is me, right?
How do you do this?

There’s a lot to say about all of that.

And my response is:

Who is asking the questions?

Love,

Angie