Molly Davis's Blog, page 39

Soaking It All In

On a whim last Sunday we took a detour on our way home from a weekend of hiking and camping. The potential of a long soak in hot mineral waters and a 30 minute linen wrap in the historic bathhouse at the Carson Hot Springs Resort sounded simply too good to pass up. Taking a chance that they would have tubs available for us we turned off the highway, and within a half an hour I was submerged in steaming hot water with a cold wash cloth on my head.

Not always one to be present to the moment, I made the choice, over and over again, to return to the sensation of the hot water on my skin, the cool touch of the wash cloth on my forehead, and the heat soaking into muscles that had worked hard to carry me safely up to the edge of the Mount St. Helens crater and back again. By the time my soak was done, I found myself squarely situated in the present moment. Thoughts about the past and any concerns about the coming week seemed to have drained away along with the water in the tub.

From the soak I headed into the quiet room lined with cots and covered with fresh linen sheets, found the one that was mine, and lay down. The sweet attendant asked what kind of wrap I preferred: tight, medium, or loose? I went with medium, opted for another cool cloth on my forehead, and a towel wrap over my head. For thirty minutes I didn’t even have to work at being present. There was no where else I wanted, or needed to be.

Almost asleep when my time was up I stood and slowly made my way toward the showers and couldn’t help but notice one of the other women in the room. Like me, she had come from a soak and was laying on her cot wrapped in a linen sheet. She didn’t however seem to be in the room at all, mesmerized as she was by her cell-phone. Watching as she clicked and scrolled and swiped, I couldn’t help but think about all of the times that I am anywhere but where I am. If not glued to my phone, then following the rabbit trails of thoughts, diving into one hole after another.

Granted, not every moment is a linen wrap after a hot soak, but the present moment is where we are meant to be. It is the place we are called to show up as fully and whole-heartedly as we can, over and over again. It takes practice, and some days it comes easier than others, but I hope to remember the contrast between those minutes in the tub and on that table, and all the times I find myself lost in the past or projecting myself into the future.

The only way to be squarely where we are is to choose, over and over again, to submerge ourselves in the present moment, soak it in and get completely wrapped up in it.

Soaking In The Present Moment

On a whim last Sunday we took a detour on our way home from a weekend of hiking and camping. The potential of a long soak in hot mineral waters and a 30 minute linen wrap in the historic bathhouse at the Carson Hot Springs Resort sounded simply too good to pass up. Taking a chance that they would have tubs available for us we turned off the highway, and within a half an hour I was submerged in steaming hot water with a cold wash cloth on my head.

Not always one to be present to the moment, I made the choice, over and over again, to return to the sensation of the hot water on my skin, the cool touch of the wash cloth on my forehead, and the heat soaking into muscles that had worked hard to carry me safely up to the edge of the Mount St. Helens crater and back again. By the time my soak was done, I found myself squarely situated in the present moment. Thoughts about the past and any concerns about the coming week seemed to have drained away along with the water in the tub.

From the soak I headed into the quiet room lined with cots and covered with fresh linen sheets, found the one that was mine, and lay down. The sweet attendant asked what kind of wrap I preferred: tight, medium, or loose? I went with medium, opted for another cool cloth on my forehead, and a towel wrap over my head. For thirty minutes I didn’t even have to work at being present. There was no where else I wanted, or needed to be.

Almost asleep when my time was up I stood and slowly made my way toward the showers and couldn’t help but notice one of the other women in the room. Like me, she had come from a soak and was laying on her cot wrapped in a linen sheet. She didn’t however seem to be in the room at all, mesmerized as she was by her cell-phone. Watching as she clicked and scrolled and swiped, I couldn’t help but think about all of the times that I am anywhere but where I am. If not glued to my phone, then following the rabbit trails of thoughts, diving into one hole after another.

Granted, not every moment is a linen wrap after a hot soak, but the present moment is where we are meant to be. It is the place we are called to show up as fully and whole-heartedly as we can, over and over again. It takes practice, and some days it comes easier than others, but I hope to remember the contrast between those minutes in the tub and on that table, and all the times I find myself lost in the past or projecting myself into the future.

The only way to be squarely where we are is to choose, over and over again, to submerge ourselves in the present moment, soak it in and get completely wrapped up in it.

Into The Storm

Driving home today after a weekend in the woods, storm clouds gathered in the sky ahead. There are times when that is what the beginning of a new week feels like. A storm is brewing and I’m headed right for it.

Maybe you can relate.

Part of me wanted to turn our car around and head back where we came. Away from our cell phones, the work waiting for us at home, and the addition of unexpected tasks to be completed. Then I noticed the car ahead of us pulling a small camper. A camper that was most likely equipped with the essentials needed to stay warm and dry, even in the midst of a storm.

Storms are a part of life, and we take them as they come. Sometimes we hunker down and wait for them to pass. But more often than not we head out, equipped to weather what we encounter, and come out the other side the better for it.

Before The New Week Begins

What did you experience this weekend that you want to remember to carry with you into the week ahead?

What did you learn this weekend that will help you in the week ahead?

What did you do this weekend that didn’t work so well, and how might you do it differently in the week ahead?

What did you do well this weekend, and how can you build on it in the week ahead?

Have a really good week.

When Lightning Strikes

We are headed out for a weekend on Mount. St. Helens. Tonight we will camp on her flanks, and tomorrow head out for a long hike up into the crater. Tom will be the geologist for the group of hikers who have paid a pretty penny to the Mount St. Helens Institute for the experience. It should be a blast. There is just one caveat. Thunderstorms are a possibility, and the trail we will hike is fully exposed. Not the place to be in the event of a lightning strike.

Moving out of the literal realm however, a lightning strike might be just what we need to propel us forward. Most of us have experienced a creative inspiration, new idea, or a flash of insight that hit us like a bolt of lightning. And since we all know that lightning rarely strikes the same place twice, we are wise to be ready to act when it hits. To capture, in writing if possible, what was illuminated in that brief but brilliant flash of light. Once we’ve grabbed hold of it, we can begin to act on it. Play with the creative inspiration, follow the idea to see where it leads, and explore that new insight to discern what it means and what to do with it.

If the purpose of a lightning strike is to inform, inspire, and illuminate, the next time it hits, let’s be ready.

Glenwood - August 9, 2019

Deadlines

It’s true that there are real deadlines. As of April 15th our taxes must be filed or we need to request an extension. Ballots have to be dropped off or mailed by a certain time on election day. Credit card payments need to be made by the due date or interest is incurred. The football must be snapped within 40 seconds of the start of the play clock or it will result in a delay of game penalty. Some work deadlines must be met or there will be serious consequences.

It’s also true that there are imaginary deadlines. They are self imposed. We arbitrarily decide what has to be done by when as if there weren’t any other options. Earlier this week I had scheduled today as a “must prepare for some upcoming work” day. Nobody else thinks it has to be done today, and to be honest, nobody else will care when it is done as long as I’m prepared for the work by the time I do it. As it turns out, today is not the day to dive into that preparation. There are other things more pressing, and simple loose ends that once taken care of, will free up more mental, emotional, and creative space to not just prepare, but to prepare well. With the click of the mouse I moved the task out to another day on my calendar, and the pressure to just do it to get it done evaporated.

Let’s take a look at our calendars and do a fact check on our deadlines.

Are they real?

Or imaginary?

Photo by Mike from Pexels

Here Comes The Sun

Sunflowers know that light matters. They turn their face to the East to greet the dawn every morning. They don’t wonder if the sun will rise tomorrow, but eagerly seek the sunlight that is offered today.

We too are in need of the light. Of turning our face to greet the day. Tomorrow is only a possibility, but for now, the light is shining on this day, and it is ours to decide what we will do with the day we’ve been given. The world needs us to choose well.

Leaving It Behind

Getting into a new rhythm can be challenging, and moving from the expansive days of summer that unfold a bit more organically, to the shortening days of fall where more structure can be called for, is one such time. Yesterday during a drive to the High Camp trailhead I could feel the many commitments, engagements, and responsibilities chasing behind me and I began to feel more than a little panicky. There were too many moving parts to keep track of and they all just began to swirl together into one big murky mess. Sharing my growing anxiety with Tom, he listened thoughtfully, and then after a few moments replied…

Think of it this way Mol. Today we are headed for a beautiful hike and we have everything we need in our packs. Those other things that feel like they are looming large right now aren’t what today is about. Today is about hiking up a trail through breathtaking country, and enjoying the day together. Those other things? They don’t need your attention today, and are waiting for you back at your desk, are scheduled on your calendar, or are jotted down on your list. When you are ready, you can take them on, one at a time.

Not right away, but gradually, his words sunk in, and I began to catch my breath. My pack was filled with what I needed for the day, and nothing more. The rest of the mental clutter was, as Tom said, waiting for me back home, and had not been invited to join me on the hike. Over time, it will all get done, but for now it was time to hit the trail.

No Longer Yours

As we descended from High Camp, a beautiful alpine meadow on the NW flanks of Mt. Adams, we passed by a large cairn, built rock-by-rock by hikers on that trail. It isn’t unusual for us to find cairns along the trail, but it isn’t often that I stop to contribute a rock of my own.

Today, I did.

It just seemed like the right cairn, on the right trail, on the right day. Picking up a squarish black rock, about the size of a book, I held it for a moment, considering what it represented. Setting it softly down on top we moved on down our trail, knowing that we had just left behind what is no longer ours to do.

As you continue on the trail that is yours to travel, what might you leave behind that is no longer yours to do?

Autumn's Invitation

Fall is my favorite time of the year. I love the quality of the light, the chill in the air, and the gradual shortening of the days. It is also a gentle reminder that we are not here forever. That our time on earth is limited, and that it is up to us to decide what we will sow in the service of what we hope to harvest.

While autumn doesn't officially begin until September 23rd, it feels like summer is over. School is back in session, summer vacations are a memory, and there are four months left before a new year begins. It seems to be a time of invitation to bring a little more structure to our days, and to consider what we hope to create and bring to life in what remains of the year. To reflect once again on what matters, and channel our energies in that direction.

As Annie Dillard says, How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. As summer once again gives way to autumn, let’s take time to consider how we want to spend our days.

Photo by Lisa Fotios from Pexels