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To Mormons, With Love
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Tuesday
Apr172012

Meditating With Mary, Gorillas, and David Blaine

The research is strong. Quieting the mind, praying, engaging in prayerful thought, slipping into the space between thoughts—the gap as they say, meditating...are all habits and practices that contribute to peace of mind and overall brain health.

I can talk to God, I'm able to inhale deeply and feel Mother Nature's divine intelligence, I can problem-solve to the point of pulverizing, and I can spin a thought in so many directions that everyone around me is dizzy and irritated. But to truly be still, to quiet the mind, is a habit I need to cultivate. I've experienced the head cleansing benefits of meditation on some of my runs over the years...focused on my breathing, the sound of my feet hitting the road or trail, no thoughts, no words, just present in the moment. Mindfulness. But, I also enjoy running with friends; it's a convenient way to socialize and stay connected. A daily meditation-while-running habit isn't realistic for me. Once or twice a week? Yes.

When Chris and I were younger—before kids—we fiddled with meditating. Sitting. I can't say that either one of us mastered the practice. But we listened to a lot of tapes, visualized desires and hurts in bubbles and gently blew them towards the sky...we also went on long zen-like mountain bike rides, and experienced euphoria via our teachers, Beer and Pizza.

In addition to pursuing mindfulness as a way of life, I'm trying to establish a daily meditation habit—to quietly sit—for ten minutes, or more when I'm able. Sometimes I successfully detach from my thoughts, and other times Chatty Cathy appears:

I'm sitting. I'm fairly comfortable. Posture is good. Did I silence the phone? Better check. ... I'm sitting. Comfortable. Good posture. I am peaceful. I am peaceful. I am peaceful. ... Maybe I need a new mantra. ... I am peaceful. ... I can totally see through my eyelids. Mary (the dog) just walked in front of me. I see her and my eyes are closed. I must have freakishly thin eyelids. I wonder if a laser treatment would stimulate collagen production and thicken my lids. That's probably why I have trouble sleeping. Closing my eyes isn't enough. I should buy a sleep mask. Maybe there's one in the bag of trash and trinkets Mom brings the boys. ... I am peaceful. I am peaceful. ... I wonder if a gorilla can meditate. I bet they can. There aren't as many thoughts to quiet. Maybe they're in a constant meditative state, except when they charge each other and fight. ... I am peaceful. I am peaceful. ... I'll just peek at the clock. Maybe I can see it with my eyes closed. ... Nope. ... Three minutes. Feels longer. Maybe that's good enough. ... I am peaceful. I am peaceful. I am peaceful. ... If I breathe any deeper I'm going to hyperventilate. Why can't I do this? There goes Mary again. ... I bet David Blaine has thin eyelids. He makes me believe in magic. If he tried to levitate in front of me, I'd break every plane around him. Magnets. In his shoes, planted in the levitation area before he arrives—by a team. That's gotta be how he does it. Bet he can't levitate a gorilla. Or Mary. ... I am peaceful. I am peaceful. ... I think I'm done.

 I'll stick with the habit. I'm getting better...and so is Mary.

But I catch her looking at the clock sometimes...

Saturday
Apr142012

My Feet Weren't Supposed To Be In The Shot

A few weeks ago, upon returning home from our 12-day Orlando vacation, I shared how excited the boys and I were to have real TV people come to our house to interview me about to Mormons, with LOVE.

Fresh Living aired the piece on Friday, April 13th. I'm unable to embed the video, but you can click here to view my 3 minutes and 30 seconds of quasi-fame.

For the record, I had planned to wear a cute pair of black boots with the understated outfit I painstakingly selected. I was getting ready to put my boots on when the doorbell rang that morning. After the interview location was selected in the house, I asked the camera guy if my feet would be visible in the shot. He said no. I only bring this up because a few friends have commented liberally on my socks.

And..."ouchies"? I was nervous, tired, and had an Orlando hangover.

In all seriousness, I'm very happy with how the piece turned out. Kate Valentine did the book justice and I'm so thankful that the Fresh Living team aired the story. Feeling grateful...that I was wearing socks, and not completely barefoot.

Friday
Mar302012

Mom Still Likes Facebook

Last April I posted about my mother's arrival on the Facebook scene, and I'm happy to report that she's come a long way. She even switched to the new Timeline profile—something I have yet to do—without consulting me. She has a grasp of where her comments appear, how to privately message someone (because some things are best said without an audience), and she still loves the "Like" button.

*****

Mom had a minor Facebook scare last summer. I was visiting she and Dad in Arizona, and bumped into her in their kitchen late one evening. The kids and husbands were in bed, Mom was sitting at her kitchen desk...Facebooking...and I had intentions of grazing on baked goods.

"I need your help," Mom said. "There's something horrible on my page."

"What?" I asked as I walked over to her computer.

"It's too terrible to describe. I don't know why she would put that on my page. You have to get it off. Quick. I don't want people seeing that!"

My mom was panicked.

She pointed to the posted item and grabbed her mouse. I couldn't tell what it was, but told her not to click on the image. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's a big...," then she whispered, "...Virginia." [Real word rhymes with angina, but I want to minimize gross Internet search hits.]

"First, that's not your 'page.' It's your News Feed—only visible to you. Second, I'm sure she [the person associated with the post] didn't purposely post that. It's spam, and we can easily delete it."

I showed her the little "x" and how easy the offensive material was to remove. "No one can your see your News Feed anyway, but it's gone. And as long as you didn't click on it, you didn't share it with anyone else. That's how these things spread."

She looked at me sharply.

"You clicked on it, didn't you," I said.

"Shit. I didn't know what it was."

As far as we know, Mom's Facebook friends didn't receive the Virginia spam, and she understands that the woman who "sent it to her" was a virus victim. Mother also now knows how to delete...many things.

*****

I enjoy when Mom makes an appearance on my Facebook page. She's become more comfortable letting her virtual hair down, and shares her personality freely.

 So she did...

Mom's finding her voice! And...I totally would have noticed.

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