The temperatures are scheduled to climb in the next few days. Our pool remains unopened with no prospect of hope for a new liner this month. The idea of the country sliding back into the throes of this COVID crisis has everyone I know rightfully on edge. Yet somehow, I manage to remain relatively calm. Part of this I attribute to a regular meditation regime – twenty minutes a day, usually after my work hours. I’ve only missed it two or three days in the past three months; it has quickly become that intricately woven into a necessary and actually enjoyable habit.
There’s also my therapy sessions, which I’ve scheduled once every two weeks, a good timeframe to keep things on track, especially in such troubling times. It feels almost like an afterthought by this point, but eliminating alcohol from my intake has likely helped raise my mood too – the removal of a depressant I’d relied on for years has gradually lifted a bit of the haze of middle age. And our imposed social isolation has actually worked to help me overcome some social anxiety – not in the obvious isolated aspect, but in the quiet I’ve had the opportunity to focus on eliminating the underlying reasons for such anxiety.
There are also some mind tricks that help with the wayward turn the world has taken of late, well, maybe ‘mind tricks’ is the wrong term – this just something I focus on when things feel claustrophobic or stifling, the way an overly-hot and humid day can physically work to crush the soul. It’s a practice I put into play when I would occasionally find myself in Boston or New York on an impossibly hot summer day, when the heat got wedged in the concrete and sidewalks, emanating from brick and glass and the very sky itself. It was difficult to cool down, especially when walking was involved, so I’d go slow, keep to the shade wherever available, and conjure the cooling sound of trickling water and the fragrance of a mockorange or neroli to quell the restless agitation. Envisioning simple blooms like the ones shown here, and memories of cooler spring days seemed to help. It took me out of the heat of the moment, which is a strange notion now that I think about it. So much of mindfulness is about staying in the present moment, but it’s also about clearing the mind. I might finally be finding the balance that works well for me.
In the middle of a harried week, I seek the solace of this respite, like a fountain in a hidden garden.
