Barbara Beyer Albright

How can you NOT be in the moment?

I had a fantastic lunch this last week at a little place in Littleton called Tres Jolie.  I was by myself, which itself made it kind of a meditation.  It was a little coffee shop and confectionary store.  There were glass pedastals of candies and baked treats, chocolate and lemon and rum raisin goodies.  I had a glass of ice water with a tomatoe and mozzarella with pesto croissant, then indulged in a little cappucinno and a cupcake.  I sat in an overstuffed chair at an aged blue metal table on a warm February day with sunlight warming me through the big glass window.  It was so invigorating and renewing.  

It’s not that lunch solves everything, but it goes a long way. 

Since there are many ways of meditating, you know, sitting meditation, zen meditation, walking meditation, mirror meditation, that meditation that’s kind of creepy and at the same time funny to me – the kind where you concentrate on a sacred word in a centering prayer and hum it , why not try a chocolate meditation?   

I was definitely in the moment  and was renewed and strengthened by that treat at Tres Jolie.  There are many paths to the present moment and this one was delicious. 

Joan Borysenko said her “all time favorite meditation is a small, moist piece of chocolate cake eaten with exquisite attention and tremendous gratitude.  Any time we are fully present in the moment we are meditating.”

That’s all.  Merely consider it.

This morning there was something about Lysacek’s interview on the morning news that was a tap, tap, tap on my shoulder and psyche.   

He said he had to thank the male skaters who stood on the medals podium at the previous Winter Olympics in Torino, Italy, because watching them was so inspirational to him.  So he had that vision before him, held it, and then continued to work and work. 

Scott Hamilton made an appearance during the interview and said, “No one worked harder or put in more time than Evan did.”  Lysacek said he trained every day and spent countless hours on the mundane parts of his routine.  He said he practiced thousands, even hundreds of thousands of times.

Inspiration + hard work = Gold sometimes

Lindsey Vonn waxed emotional after winning the gold for her skiing performance and said she was surprised at “watering up” (crying) but that her gold medal performance had been the accumulation of years of work and wanting it.  

Are there lessons here for writers? 

What inspires is different for each of us. 

What inspires you?

Write it and post it where you can see it.  Visualize it.  Draw it.  Collage it.  Vision board it.  Create whatever will keep it in front of you.

Do you want it enough?

Can you find clarity and focus?

Do you enjoy it? 

Do you love doing it?   Not just the idea of being it?

If you want to become a writer, dip into that inspirational well within and begin writing.  And keep writing.  Are there mundane aspects to writing? Oh yeah.  Do you need to work hard to be successful?  Absolutely. 

Even when you’re tired, write some more.

So today I send an energetic shout out to those Olympic athletes for their hard work, their determination, their character, talent, competitive spirit and congratulate them on dreams come true. 

Besides being fun to watch, they inspire me and they remind me that dawdling and bouncing around only get you so far. They remind me to be focused and to work hard.  Visualizing success is not enough. 

See the gold.  Go for the gold, and I promise, the harder you work, the luckier you’ll get.

Your one and only

Hearts and February.  Can’t have one without the other it seems. I love you with all my heart. Break my heart. You stole my heart.  Sweetheart.  I “heart” you.  Heart throbs.  Heartaches. Bless your heart.

They’re everywhere this time of year! Chocolate hearts. Pastel colored conversation hearts.  Candy heart suckers. Red and gold heart shaped boxes!

However, how much attention do you pay to your own heart?  You know, the organ that’s steadily and loyally, without probably much thanks from you, beating slightly to the left inside your chest. 

From someone who has always had low blood pressure and pretty proud of it, to someone who was told just today that she has to go on high blood pressure medication because she has hypertension, I say, pay attention to that heart beating so near and dear to you.

I’m shocked!  I never paid much attention to high blood pressure readings because I didn’t have to.  Doctors over the years would joke with me about my low, low blood pressure.  But it’s been rising steadily this past year.  I underestimated it’s “sneak.”  I had no symptoms except killer headaches the last few months and slight concern because of the alarm in the various nurses’ reaction to the readings after they strapped a cuff on my arm and pumped away with their little puffer thing. 

When it topped at 180/102 a couple days ago and was high again today, my physician said, “enough.” 

So there you have it. 

And now I have it.  

“I hate being a grown-up.  Having to learn things I didn’t want to know really pisses me off.”

                            -overheard conversation

I have a sweet, gentle, industrious heart that apparently, I haven’t let rest lately. 

 Put your hand on your chest, breath deep next time you’re still, lie down at night, or meditate, feel its rhythmic beating, and say thank you to your heart. It beats and beats with narry a thanks, or even a thought, from us.  Work it and feed it right.  Get it pumping. 

Chocolate hearts and heart shaped wreaths and pillows, etc. are fine, but nothing tops the one that keeps you going.

Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump.