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Attention is everything

Someone paired the above quote with a poem by Mary Oliver and the combination really hit home for me.

The Wisest Thing I Know
Ten times a day something happens to me like this –
some strengthening throb of amazement – some good sweet empathic ping and swell.
This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know:
that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.
-Mary Oliver

Many years ago at Science of Mind I learned another way of stating this powerful truth: Where attention goes, energy flows.

It makes sense to me that this is how we become (and how our soul-being is built) according to what we pay attention to.

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It’s getting to be that time

I guess I’m more attuned than usual to the approach of “letting go” season. I certainly don’t recall noticing so many little hints of red in the midst of mostly green foliage in past years.

I also happen to be gearing up to (hopefully) accomplish some letting go of my own — namely decluttering and releasing things I no longer use, need, or resonate with.

Hopefully, I can learn from the trees.

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Small consistent effort for the win!

This is something I’m trying to keep in mind on a daily basis. Like this morning, when I really, really didn’t feel like going for a walk.

Of course I fully understand that I’m — yet again — battling the good old “law of inertia.” That’s the law which basically states that an object will continue to be in the state of rest or in a state of motion unless an external force acts on it.

Having (for the usual excellent reasons — yes, I’m being sarcastic here) fallen away from my walking routine, I have in fact become a body at rest. And it’s taking a lot of force in the form of will power to get me moving again.

So I love this reminder that even walking to the top of the driveway and back counts as a small effort. All I have to do is make it consistent and I, too, will be able to claim the win!

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Back to date night

Attending last weekend’s reunion was a lot of fun, but this Friday I’m very grateful to end the week with a nice quiet date night.

Pizza and a movie with Ramesha — oh yeah!

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A few more reunion memories

I can’t quite lay it all to rest without sharing these last couple of photos.

First, my senior picture. Amazing how the now “me” looks at the then “me” and can’t completely comprehend any difference. Because underneath I’m just always the same “me!”

The second photo is from my 10th high school reunion, which I attended with my then-husband, Randy. Looking at it now, I marvel at how grown up I thought I was at 28 years old!

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Unexpected reunion aftereffect

My “fortune” after a Chinese food lunch on the way home from the reunion.

I would never have imagined that becoming reacquainted, and then sharing brief but intense interactions, with friends from fifty (or more) years ago could alter the landscape of my self-perceptions.

But it has!

The truth is, I have a few core beliefs that are going to require some considerable self-reflection.

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Reminded of long-forgotten memories

Of course I remember that I used to play saxophone (baritone and then alto), but it was a vague, abstract kind of remembering.

I had completely forgotten about competing at this jazz band festival, but seeing these photos brought it all back in a visceral sort of way.

It’s also interesting to remember the full context. This was my senior year but I had spent five weeks of the previous summer traveling throughout Europe with the Blue Saints Honor Jazz Band.

I’m pretty sure I was in a bit of an existential crisis being back at my small high school after having had such bigger and broader experiences.

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Going way, WAY back

One thing I hadn’t fully anticipated about attending my 50th high school reunion is the fact that I wasn’t only reconnecting with classmates from high school. There were quite a people there who were in my kindergarten class!

Granted, none of them have been particular friends through all the years and decades, but it still gave me pause.

I was pleasurably surprised to see that the reunion committee had organized a display of memorabilia which included binders of class photos from the four elementary schools that fed first into Thomas Russell Junior High and eventually to Milpitas High School.

Incidentally, it’s hard to see in the class photo, but this is definitely one of my all-time favorite pictures!

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On the street where I lived

We spent the afternoon driving around Milpitas…revisiting old haunts and simply remembering.

The top photo is 1853 Conway Street, our family home starting from when I was five. Fifty years ago it was only one story, there was no brick fence, and the shade tree was much, much smaller.

Our driveway pointed straight up Greathouse Drive (photo below), so this was my view every time I walked out of the house. It was nice to see that it hadn’t changed hardly at all.