Sometimes the days are just motherfuckers and it's good to make space for mindfulness so that my emotions don’t bring out my inner asshole, raining irritable vibes at the people I love. I hate it when that happens, so I try to keep it from happening with…
You guessed it! Mindfulness, Motherfuckers! But how does an asshole make space for this mindfulness? It's easy. Sort of.
Today, just as I whipped some ground turkey into the frying pan, a hot flash hit me like a hammer on fiiiiyaaaaa! OMG - Hellfire HOT. Physical discomfort demands attention, in the Fatal Attraction “I will not be ignored, Dan,” way, so since I can’t ignore it, I used it as an opportunity to be mindful instead of trying to ignore it or let it clobber me completely. I give physical discomfort my attention. I make space for it. I am mindful.
When I am physically uncomfortable, I notice it, I figure if I can do anything to make it go away. If I can, I do. If I can’t, I remind myself that physical discomfort is just a thing that is part of being a human, that it will pass, and that I can choose not to let it consume my mental space by convincing me that something mentally uncomfortable is making me physically uncomfortable, because more often than not, that’s not the case.
I was thinking about my dad and talking to him when the hot flash hit. This is something that sometimes gives me joy and other times gives me gas because we had an intense and volatile relationship. He’s been gone for 13 years and I still find myself thinking about picking up the phone to call him. The Hellfire hot flash sweat from my eyeholes turned into tears, so I plopped down on the floor and had a good cry. Felt good.
And then it felt bad. Like, really bad. Hellfire hot flash continued and I was thinking about how sometimes my dad pissed me off, like when I’d say I was cold and he would say that I was fine and keep the air conditioner on high, because he was hot, and I would have to whine and make a fuss to get him to listen and turn it down, and then he would grumble, and we were both unhappy because we could never agree on temperature.
And then I felt great and laughed because today we would have agreed. I wished I were with him in the car with the air conditioner on full blast listening to Elvis. Physical discomfort brought on some emotional discomfort today. I’m sort of glad it did because I was due for a good cry. I haven’t given my emotional discomfort enough space lately. I’d thank the hot flash for the reminder, but that would be positive reinforcement and I don’t want to encourage these fuckers. I want them to go away.
Anyhoo…I am so glad that I know how to do this mindfulness shit and glad I was mindful of my need to make space for it today, although today I’m sure that if I didn’t make space for it, it would have pushed it’s way in. Grief needs space. Being mindful of grief, for me, means that moments of sadness don't take away the joy. There is space for all the feelings if we make it.
Even if I wanted to ignore the physical pull toward to write about the mindfulness stuff, grief wouldn't let me. Kerry, who writes the blog Cancer is not a Gift here on ChicagoNow, posted a this photo on Facebook
Looking at this reminded me that sometimes it’s good to give stuff like this a bigger space, you know, like on my Facebook page, because lots of people are grieving, trying to figure out how to make space for it, and EVERYONE can use a little mindfulness.
I hope this somehow finds a way to your space and that you make space for the mindfulness part. It works. It feels like a swarm of delicious brain salve and you need it that so that you aren’t a big asshole to the people you love or to yourself.
They will thank you. You will thank you. Trust me, I am a professional.
You are welcome.