It’s beautiful crisp autumn days like today that make me worry that I’m not living my days to the fullest. If I’m not wearing a chunky sweater and holding a latte in my hands am I even doing Fall right? That’s why I’m currently at the park in a beanie watching the orange and red leaves fall as I type this… Just kidding. I’m in bed.
Sometimes I want to feel a certain way but don’t know how. I want to feel a mood but I can’t describe it. What makes a memory? How come is only afterwards that a moment sticks with you. But when you try to create those things it’s never the same?
I want it to be like in the movies. The crisp autumn air and the warm clothes and the cracking fire. Or frosted windows while wrapping Christmas gifts with the scent of pinecone and wintergreen.
Multiple things stop me from creating the scene I’m most craving. Mostly because I feel like I need a clean house, no mess, no laundry to do, no dishes in the sick, my son’s toys organized in their respective toy bins, etc until I can sit back and relax. You know, very Pinteresty. But if I waited for all of these things in my environment to be perfect, I would never have that moment.
At yoga today, while in a supported hip bridge with a block under our pelvis, the teacher talked about how passive poses are still active. You’re still doing something even though you’re just laying there. You’re getting all the benefits of the pose without having to push yourself. Sometimes it’s more about just relaxing.
We try so hard to make things happen rather than just showing up and making ourselves available for it to happen on its own. In other words, I think we try too hard. Maybe the memorableness of memories is that we suspend our cares for the time being and just let the wind take us where we need to go. Instead of constantly being the architect of our experiences, we need to find our inner child again and just show up with wonder in our eyes and curiosity in our hearts. Maybe that’s what memories are made of.