How a gentle shift of focus can change our experience
Rhododendrons, forest magic and nostalgia for the English Lake District
Dear Reader
It’s dark and I’m typing this by candlelight. Once again the Pacific Northwest is warming up and beguiling me with her beauty. My first Spring here and I am watching camellias and rhododendrons (or rhodies as I’ve heard them called) come into flower in the neighbourhood.
They remind me of Ambleside in The Lake District in England. The soil there is acidic too. I am nostalgic for that beloved place. Four generations of women in my family have enjoyed the Lake District since the early 1980s, beginning with my Grandma, my Mum and me. Then later my daughters fell in love with it. Late April/May was when we would often go. My Mum is there now (and a little piece of me is there also). It’s a place that beguiles me still.
Yet to be outside here in the long April dusks or under the trees middle day is to walk in magical landscapes which I have also fallen in love with.
And even so, the heart can be heavy at times. Discontent and unease can swirl like those mists on the estuary in Ferryside, Wales, damping down the exuberance and vitality that is naturally ours. Those fears may have substance, shape and look real or more often they are nameless but press down on us anyway.
A few years ago, in Wales, I was walking through wind and driving rain, my hands getting cold, the water seeping through my coat, water dripping down my legs, onto my socks and seeping into my boots. It was a long walk. I hadn’t planned to be walking in such a downpour. The forecast had said light showers. It was hard to check my route, between my glasses getting steamed up and wanting to keep the phone screen dry. With still many miles to go, I noticed myself getting tense as I worried about taking the wrong turn. I trudged. Tiredness crept in. My legs felt heavy.
All of a sudden, something shifted. I had the thought: ‘it’s only water!’ My spirits lifted and I stopped trying to avoid muddy spots in the fields. My whole posture changed. I was already soaked so I just ploughed through the mud and squelched my way across pastures. Once I no longer minded about getting wet, I began to enjoy the walk. It reminded me of being a kid again and jumping in puddles. The rain hadn’t stopped but I had stopped resisting the rain. I got a renewed burst of energy and finished my walk having enjoyed it more than I thought possible when I was trudging and stressed.
Heavy thoughts like worry, doubt and judgement are like the wind and rain on my walk. Trying to get rid of them only makes them heavier, but when we realise we don’t need to do anything about them, then we can turn our attention to something else, like squelching through the mud or the warmth of a hot drink, the feel of a pet as you stroke its fur, the sound of a favourite song. The heaviness may still be there in the background, but we expand our awareness so it isn’t all taken up with the heaviness. In its own time it will move on through just like every other thought and feeling.
Our state of mind is always rising and falling, like the gentle breath of a sleeping toddler. It’s entirely natural. As Dicken Bettinger says, if we don’t worry about the exhale, the inhale will come round again soon enough. Patience helps!
So despite feeling out of sorts, I’ve connected with family on two different continents, had an interesting conversation about book groups and received the gift of a wonderful office chair from newish friends in the community today as well as reading some uplifting and inspiring articles on Substack.
Questions
What happens if you gently shift your attention to your breathing or something in your environment when you feel heavy or worried?
If any of you are in a book group, I’d love to know what 3 things you love about your book group - what does it give you and what do you get from it? Comment below or message me
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Small Joys
Courgette cake - tried a great recipe from Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall’s How to eat 30 Plants a week, recipe book. It’s not too sweet, cooked in a loaf tin and has brought black tea back into my life! I find myself yearning for tea and cake around 4pm!
Taking photos and sharing photos. This brings me so much joy. I’ve recently moved away from sharing on Facebook and I do miss sharing photos there. I share a few on Substack Notes and send them to friends and family. Is anyone else in this quandary?
The photos that pop up reminding me of Spring in the UK, all the sweeter this year as I am not there to see it.
Threads that pull me
Book: Untethered Soul by Michael Singer. I read this some years ago. As books do, it came into my awareness again recently and I listened on Audible. I love how you can return to a book and experience it completely fresh.
Links
One of my subscribers, Jeane put together a blog of stories from immigrants to the US who came from Commonwealth countries. A great record of the impressions of this small group of immigrants. A labour of love from Jeane.
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How I know ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto’
A regular slot for things that catch my eye and tell me I’m no longer in Ferryside, West Wales, UK.
That’s all folks. Thanks for checking in. A like or a share help put this publication in front of more people and are much appreciated. Thank you. ‘Til next time.
Juliet
The day Paul and I spread our parent's ashes in Yosemite we walked across a meadow looking for a peaceful spot. The ground was suddenly sodden and I found myself ankle deep in muddy water. At first I was annoyed, but then I laughed, we both laughed, it didn't matter at all. A sweet memory made by accident 💜🩷❤️
Your photos are so beautiful Juliet, I am very glad you share them here. Three things I like about my book club are the regularity of meeting with interesting companions, being made to read books I normally wouldn’t, varied opinions and discussions that go to unexpected places, sometimes the best discussions can come out of the books we like least!