Living in a grass-is-greener, anywhere-but-here, mode can particularly unsatisfying.

When a blue whale dives deep their heart slows way, way down: it is a whole......different......mode......of......being.

I find out, again and again, that the world carries on without me.

It seats me right in the middle of this insane and lovely life...

"Consider daily sitting practice to be a kind of spiritual food." That's a lovely thought. I like food. But what happens when I get hungry?

I have enjoyed using the somewhat cutesy (but memorable) phrase, "an attitude of gratitude." And what did I realize today?

From this perspective, to be a beginner is a gift. And what a wonderful way to approach the world, other people and our own psyches.

In the aftermath, writing about gratitude and mindfulness seems kind of callous, even frivolous. Or perhaps naive. But it is not.

There are deer, birds, foxes, wildflowers and more. But you have to look. Lawrence looks with eyes that see things others tend to pass by.

What really caught my attention was a photo of a wolf. Especially the eyes. Intense. Deep. Totally present. Totally alive.

He touched the lives of millions around the world, faithfully scattering seeds of peace, compassion, mindfulness, non-violence, humor & joy.

On the backside of that hill the incessant noise of traffic and construction was buffered out…so we could drink in the silence as well.

Sometimes I slow down enough to tune into a tree, enough--perhaps--to hear the trailing notes of an ancient song.

If I allow my mind to still, if I let go of my need to control, sometimes I ease into a quiet state where time does not hold me captive.

Some part of me had known I was in denial when I sat on that cold kitchen floor. But I denied my denial.

The essence of mindfulness. When I am here, I can feel my feet, feel my breath, feel my beating heart--notice in this moment that I am okay.

They flowed with strength and steady pace through the heart of the village and together, they rolled on towards the Sea…

This strange mirror, this odd form of grace, though uncomfortable, has on occasion helped me see myself a lot more clearly.

I focus on my breath. I get distracted. Oops. Okay. And again. So many times that I feel like one of those toys on a string...

An absurd fantasy--I mentally roll my eyes when I read it. Yet when I decided to write about mindfulness this week that essay came to mind.