A little excitement and a New Beginning

Exciting for me! Maybe not quite so exciting for you, my reader, but to finally have the thoughts and words that have lived in my head, and the feelings in my heart that I've wanted to share for so long, laid out on the pages of a book, is something rather special.

And now, it's done.

There have been long, long days of writing, stretching well into the night, when my eyelids were slowly closing and my head was practically guiding itself towards the pillow.

Only for the excitement to begin again the following morning.

Sometimes I would wake suddenly as the first light of dawn squeezed through the edges of the blackout blinds, almost calling me to get up. Another day, another opportunity to put those thoughts onto paper.

But I wouldn't jump straight out of bed even though it was my first instinct,  I'd wait a moment. Take a breath and find the gap I needed to see the day ahead of me, working through the details of my intentions for the day, what my goal might be and how much writing I could manage before the day was over.

And then, with another breath, I'd move my attention inward. How am I feeling today? How rested do I feel?

A moment of gratitude for the night behind me, and for this body of mine that has woken once again and given me another day of life.

Then a little time with my breath. Breathing in for four, holding for four, breathing out for four and holding for four. It's a rhythm I enjoy, although there's no need to hold the breath if it feels uncomfortable. A gentle way of settling myself and letting my nervous system know that I'm here, and I'm listening.

While my nervous system is continually checking in on me, I've learned the importance of checking in on it, too. That wonderful, often overlooked connection with what is happening inside us.

Then I'm up and downstairs, and outside if the weather allows. If not, I'll sit in the porch and simply take in the morning.

Letting the morning light reach me, breathing in the fresh air, watching and listening to the world waking up around me, with a cup of hot water in my hand.

Yes, I know, not everyone's idea of a morning treat, but it's become part of my little ritual, and I enjoy it more nowadays.

Whilst I sit, I feel my feet on the ground, take another long, beautiful breath and allow myself a few moments simply to be.

Because I know that once my day begins here at Snowdonia Hub, those moments may become shorter, depending on guest arrivals and departures.

When I find a little space, I'll have words flying onto the page, ideas arriving unexpectedly and the occasional ping from my app reminding me to take a moment to breathe.

Sometimes I listen immediately. Sometimes I'm so caught up in what I'm writing that I need the reminder.

And that is the point. We don't have to get it right all the time. Sometimes, ironically, we don't even have the time to get it right! But as long as we become aware of that, it's a great start.

The words I've finally put into a book have been with me for many years.

Behind them has been a yearning to help people. Not necessarily to change someone's whole life, but perhaps to offer just one tiny, weeny step forward.

One small thing that might be helpful.

Just one person who reads something and experiences that little awakening, that moment when they begin to notice themselves differently, to listen, to feel, to become curious about what's happening within.

If that happens, then all those hours of writing will have been worth it.

But there is something I worry about.

That someone will pick up my book, or read something I've written, and think:

I haven't got time for this.  I can't fit meditation into my life. I've got children, a job, a home to run. I can't just stop everything and sit quietly. I'm running a business, working shifts. There is a whole list of life's 'duties' that get in the way of coming home to ourselves.

And perhaps they'll move on, believing that presence and mindfulness are something for people who have more time, fewer responsibilities or quieter lives.

I can't tell you how much I hope they won't.

Because the very thing I want to share is that you don't need to find an extra hour in your day to begin.

You don't even need ten minutes.

Sometimes all you need is a moment.

A tiny, almost unnoticed pause between one thing and the next.

A breath before answering the phone.

Feeling your feet on the floor while the kettle boils.

Noticing the warmth of the water on your hands as you wash them.

Or simply recognising, in the middle of a busy day, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now.

That is awareness.

That is a beginning.

And those tiny moments matter.

They are opportunities to turn your attention inward, to notice what's happening, to listen to yourself rather than rushing past yourself.

Of course, longer practices are lovely, and I treasure my quieter mornings. But life doesn't always offer us those moments, and we needn't wait until it does.

And sometimes, when we can, we might choose to make a little space for them.

In those quieter hours before the family and the world awaken, before work calls or the car engine starts, perhaps we can steal back a few moments for ourselves.

If you usually get up at six, and it feels possible, why not try setting your alarm for ten minutes to six? Not because you have to, or because it's another thing to get right, but simply to give yourself a little time that belongs to you.

You may find that those few minutes become something you look forward to. Something your mind and body begin to welcome.

We can begin right in the middle of the life we're already living.

So perhaps that's what I most want to say in my very first blog.

Mindamity isn't about adding another thing to your already busy day.

It's about discovering that, somewhere within that day, there are little micro moments when you can come home to yourself.

And if all you manage today is one small breath taken with awareness, well, that's a rather lovely place to begin.

With warmth,

Julie 

Mindamity - Awaken · Align · Evolve