Tag: Awareness (Page 8 of 8)

My 3 Morning Rituals For Mindfulness

Upon reading about the habits of successful people and those of happy people, I realized that many of them seem tailored to morning people, who’re up at the crack o’ dawn, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Get up early, follow a (insert healthy regime here), exercise, then integrate a “power hour” and do what’s most important first (not most urgent, as we’re mislead into believing by our productivity-driven society).

What I'm not in the morning - bright and chipper

What I’m not in the morning – bright and chipper

Although I certainly appreciate the arguments made in favour of getting a head start and doing all the right “setting rituals” for your day before you get started, it always seems to me like I’m short of time.

I’m a far cry from a morning person.

I’ve always loved the evening as my time to feel most alive, reflective and productive. I find it challenging to go to bed really early (anytime before 10 p.m. makes me feel like an Olympian in training or like a card-holding senior citizen, not sure which one) and to rise with the sun. I work best by moonlight and the night’s sounds comfort me. I’m not up until 2-3 a.m. by any means, but nighttime rhymes with bliss for me. Perhaps it has to do with being a night baby.

Weekday mornings are perpetually cruel to me; they are rushed, they feel unnatural and doing for others when I get up just isn’t part of my genetic makeup. I need to wake-up to myself before I can do so for the world. Which leaves me in a state of bewildered numbness on most mornings. This isn’t to say I’m grumpy or don’t appreciate the feeling of novelty with each new day or how fresh it feels in my mind and body.

You with all that energyBecause in practical terms, when I wake to my natural rhythm and move at my pace, I usually rise before 9 a.m. anyway and enjoy morning rituals that usually involve coffee or tea, breakfast, stretching or yoga and reading. I apply the concept of the power hour instinctively, provided I don’t have too early a deadline by which I must leave the house.

So how can I adopt any of the tried and true habits of happy and successful people? Here’s what I found… Those two groups intersected in funny little areas like gratitude, mindset and mindfulness (or presence – aka living in the now).

I decided that if I wasn’t going to rise to a rooster’s song or hit the gym with the conviction and excitement deployed in a game of whack-a-mole, I should consider, smaller, long lasting, Jedi mind tricks. In any case, those have powerful effects almost immediately.

I decided to change three small things about my routine, from the moment I wake, to the moment I arrive to the office. My mornings played out like this. I woke up to an abrasive alarm, which I cursed in my head (and sometimes aloud). I snoozed until holy-crap-I-need-to-run o’clock. My anti-hero workout consisted of running to get out the door; forgetting my lunch, not making coffee, swearing that I’d change my ways – especially when I’d see the bus zoom by the end of my street without me on it. I’d curse the cold or the fact that I had to walk to a bus stop. I also dreaded my bus ride to the office because if I wasn’t standing among strangers way too close for comfort, I was roasting because the air was hot and stale.

How do those mornings sound to you? Awesome, right? You want to sign up for my life, don’t you? Well, I didn’t want to sign up for that either.

I started making my lunches the night before a few months ago and prepping my mini Keurig before bed. I lay out my clothes so I don’t have to think. All my essentials are in my purse, which is next to the clothes I throw on in my limited brain capacity.

Ok, that’s sort of cheating because they’re not a morning rituals… they’re evening rituals. As my partner would say: “I’m helping future Mercedes”. *Time-space-five!*

So what about my mad a.m. sprint did I change?

My 3 Morning Rituals For Mindfulness

1-Gratitude

The first thing I decided to do is to thank the Universe for something I’m happy to wake up to. Often, it’s my cuddly honey. Other times, it’s the comfy bed I slept in or the fun dreams I had. That means I start my day with gratitude, which shapes how I see the day’s events AND the power of a positive emotion exceeds that of a negative emotion.

keep-calm-and-get-your-gratitude-on-32-Breath Meditation

Then, when I walk to my bus, I breathe from my belly, all the while thanking this opportunity (however cold it is) for fresh air. Focusing on my breathing and the present moment allows me to be grounded and practice mindfulness. Lastly, instead of dreading the bus, I use at least 5 minutes of my 20-min bus ride to meditate.

No… I don’t sit in lotus and om to the motor and traffic sounds. I simply close my eyes and visualize my breath as a source of light. I usually use the first 5 minutes as my daily reiki practice.

3-Holding a Happy Feeling

Then I try to either review something that makes me happy in the moment – a fact about my life. Or, alternatively, I visualize a positive outcome to something that’s been weighing on my mind. Rather, I picture myself feeling good about an outcome, if the solution hasn’t formed yet.

In essence, I’ve removed the self-defeating mindsets from my morning routine, which we know sets the tone for our day. Some changes don’t have to be big to have a great impact. I don’t aim for perfection, I only aim for progress.

How will you change your morning ritual?

Recognizing Barriers to the Self

In recent years, I’ve struggled with my health, my mental well-being and this question of happiness. In this process, which is ongoing, I’ve realized that there were things missing in my life (understatement of my generation, right?). Surprisingly, they weren’t things to acquire, but rather, they were experiences to live and feel. I was missing out on so much because of barriers I’d put up within mySelf. We all have barriers to the self, and we all start with recognizing them.

Pride

I realized that one of my sources of restraint was pride. Not in the sense we misunderstand as vain, self-involved and reserved. I mean I was/am proud in the sense that I was protecting my dignity as I saw it and my heart as I remembered pain. You see, folks who aim to better themselves, improve their performance and compete tend to have issues around shame, rejection and self-worth. I know that I learned shame. I learned embarrassment, through experiences such as bullying or singling-out in class. I learned that being “right”, bubbly, helpful and talented was valued. Being valued felt good. I can’t speak for others, but whenever I fell short of any of these, I felt less than. I disappointed and that felt bad. I felt like I lost a bit of shine to my penny. I started to compete with others not to prove myself better than anyone else, but to make myself lovable, though I didn’t know it at the time. When I got older, into adulthood, I loved being the best at something and couldn’t stand not being the best at something I dedicated so much time to. How could I not be the best dancer if I worked so hard? Those questions would send me into tailspins. I would question my entire life’s decisions and whether I even knew who I was. Was I worth anyone’s time?

I was painted as the model student, the talented dancer and artist, the reasonable child, the best friend, the exemplary intern, the up-and-coming reporter, the communications professional, the competitive dancer and team member, the reliable daughter, the girlfriend you bring home to mom. Those are just some of the roles I’ve had to play, as cast by others.

Fear

My fears of feeling shame, embarrassment and not being good enough grew over time. No one is born feeling ill-equipped to live. Everyone born wants to be here. So why do we feel so unloved, inadequate and misunderstood from such a young age?Through experiences. We can choose to take the lessons or identify with the pain. We can’t live with both. When I was about 9 or 10 years old, I danced in a production of Newsies. My coach insisted we lip-sync the chorus introduction and frustrated as she was, she threatened that if she saw one of us mumbling, she would “make us sing the chorus to all the other classes”, which included older kids and teenagers. You’ve probably guessed that I was singled out and was forced to sing, out loud, with no musical accompaniment to about three classes. This was NOT the kind of attention I ever wanted or asked for. I remember my palms sweating and the blood draining from my hands, which were shaking. I remember having a hard time pushing sound out of my mouth. My throat was dry. I made it through the entire chorus while staring at the floor and feeling my face flush. My legs felt like lead. I remember few moments as uncomfortable as that one. I could tell others were also uncomfortable about the manner in which I’d been thrust into their class and forced to perform, like a circus monkey.
findyourvoice

Finding My Voice

To this day, I struggle with singing. I have a visceral reaction; like a caged animal. I was a child who loved music and who belted out tunes without a care in the world. I was never even aware that others may not like hearing me! But since this experience, I have third chakra problems. I have a crackly, raspy voice which breaks sometimes mid-speech, or when I sing certain notes. I lose my voice the second I think someone can hear me sing. I frequently have to clear my throat and often have “a frog”. I discovered I have hypothyroidism, which is an under-active thyroid. Louise Hay has very interesting suggestions relating to root causes of physical disease and illness. According to her, thyroid dysfunction has to do with self-expression and being heard or “speaking your truth”. I think it’s pretty clear that my symptoms stem from a traumatic experience. The irony of it all, is that the song was meant to be empowering.
“Open the gates and seize the day
Don’t be afraid and don’t delay
Nothing can break us
No one can make us
Give our rights away
Arise and seize the day”
For years, I stopped myself from singing. I didn’t sing in public, at the karaoke, on road trips, while walking with an iPod, at parties or around a camp fire. All this time, somewhere deep down, I believed that my singing would be judged, that I would be shamed and ostracized.
I stopped myself from learning an instrument and I quit guitar because my family was full of talented musicians. I stopped myself from sewing because my mom could always do it better. I stopped drawing because it was not practical for school or anything else. Besides, I wasn’t “good” at it, like my father or my cousin was. I “grew out” of playing games, an activity I enjoyed so much. I hesitated for years to learn photography because I thought I wouldn’t understand the technique. I was always “mathematically challenged”. I shelved writing and storytelling for the last few years, when I walked away from reporting. I stopped myself from pursuing riskier career options, which were worth the risk for the sheer experience.
I buried mySelf, as I filled my calendar with activities, my head with worry, my credit card with unattainable standards and my heart with sorrow. I realized something had to change…

Read my recovery story in my next post.

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