Unplugged

Last week I hopped on a train to spend a couple days with my daughter. It's rare to have that time with her so I didn't hesitate to accept the invitation.

While I was getting a few things packed my mind was on whether I should take my computer, my iPad or just my phone. Which device would give me the most options to keep my mind occupied and allow me to stay connected to email, messaging, Facebook and Twitter. We're not talking about business interactions here- or work per se. Pure distraction.

The computer won out until the last moment when I realized that along with everything else it would be too heavy to lug while walking the blocks to get to her place. I begrudgingly switched it for my iPad. No DVD's and the wifi on the train is not the best for streaming, so no videos. Damn.

As I was setting up on the train, impatiently waiting for the wifi to kick in, my mind was far from the present. And when it did connect I couldn't wait to check the boxes of all the ways I could put in the time.

This went on for about 45 minutes, until I happened to glance up and see the most beautiful church steeple reaching up into the blue sky. And it hit me. I'm going to miss this beautiful fall day as we make our way through the countryside. What a shame it would be, to have my head buried in my iPad, checking my newsfeed while the real magic was happening right outside my window.

I closed my iPad. I breathed in the life around me. A flock of seagulls taking flight from a farmer's field, countless round bales of hay dotting the freshly mown pasture. A clothesline strung with  sheets flapping in the breeze. a single donkey chewing contently totally unaware and uncaring of the monster roaring past him.

I rested my eyes and mind for awhile, and let the gentle swaying of the train lull me into a comforting, peaceful repose.

Un-plugged.

What I will remember about that little trip was not about how many likes I got on a post, or unimportant emails, or videos I tried to stream. Those things are like sound bites, with no lasting content.

Life outside that window is what I'll remember. And treasure.

Namaste.

From This Day Forward

Last weekend my husband and I celebrated our 39^th wedding anniversary. I have to admit,  I haven't really paid attention to the number during the last few years- it was '30 something' in my brain. So when I realized it was 39 this year, it stopped me in my tracks. Literally. 

Something about that number made me rewind all those years, back to that wonderful day in 1977. Almost four decades together, I recalled some of the highlights, both joyful and sad. If you've been married this many years, you experience a lot together.

I also felt something else this year, something unfamiliar until now.

How did the time go so quickly, followed immediately by this sobering thought- “I don't want it to go so fast. Slow down, slow DOWN!”

But the truth of it is, life does move quickly, and I swear even faster with each passing year. My mother-in-law said that when she turned 90 (and that's a lot of years) that it didn't seem possible that her life contained so many years, and yet still felt so brief.

It's just the way it is.

The important part of all of this is that it is wake up call- a poignant reminder that our moments really are precious- and fleeting. That it's worth pausing during the day- as often as we can- just to appreciate our abundant blessings,  and the lessons we're still learning. To embrace these moments. We can't hold on to time, but we can learn to slow down long enough to breathe life in, and give thanks.

One of the gifts of yoga is to take that time to be with ourselves on the mat. To set our busy life down for a bit, to come home to ourselves, and honour our bodies- and our lives, no matter what they look or feel like. To accept what is- and to humbly, compassionately give thanks for this life we've been given.

If we can practise this, on and off the mat, life may continue to move quickly, but I have a hunch that 'from this day forward' maybe the quantity of years won't be quite as important as the quality.

Namaste.