Feet, Hands, and Ghosts « Yoga for Breakfast

13Sep/1113

Feet, Hands, and Ghosts

I'm not quite sure where I got the idea that most things in life should be neat, clear-cut, and compartmentalized.

Maybe because that would make life easier?

Maybe because I'm having a hard time sleeping lately, which knocks my reasoning skills down several levels?

Whatever it is, I know (but often try to ignore) that life is a process. Maybe it sounds trite, but it's beautiful. I'll see that if I stop my annoyance with not knowing answers, with not finding an elusive perfection.

Maybe I'll remember that if I'm really honest with myself about who I am and what's important. If I keep practicing living in the middle of discomfort (which can look like so many things), sitting with it, not focusing on the next moment, but instead breathing, living through this one.

I've been doing some practicing. I've been following up with what I said in My Best "Best" post. I've been realizing- I mean really realizing, not just taking in the words, but following through with actions- that living out my current best doesn't have to look fancy. It doesn't have to carry labels. It doesn't have to impress anybody. But it does have to be more than thoughts in the mind and words on a page and in the air.

It has to have feet, hands, skin.

Action.

On Sunday morning, after attempting to get back to sleep for an hour-and-a-half, the quiet of the beginning of the day called me downstairs. Just a few remnants of the previous evening's party remained, calling back ghosts of one of my great loves- shared food, laughter-and-conversation-filled rooms, stories, dirty plates, cups, people everywhere.

After all the frustration, struggling, tears, disappointment, and questions of the last several months, I still don't have a job title or any title that I can dole out to explain to people exactly what it is that I do.

But I know a richness that I think I would not have known without those struggles.

I have an appreciation for life that comes with acting on the things that resonate with who I am.

I have quiet mornings that allow me soak up those ghosts of the sights, sounds, and smells that add so much fullness to my life.

And I have a long list of thanks to give-starting with the one who made me- for the return of my formerly buried love of life.

Thanks to those who play or played some small or large part in my own journey of life.

It matters.

You matter.

I'm linking up with Heather of

The Extraordinary Ordinary's new series, Just Write .

Tagged as: healthy mind, life, reasons to be thankful Leave a comment

Comments (13) Trackbacks (0) ( subscribe to comments on this post )

Galit Breen
September 13th, 2011 - 08:49

Yes, this. This noticing of wonders. Sometimes it takes a route that we;d rather not take to get there, to see them. But yes, these wonders are perfect, aren’t they?
Jo
September 13th, 2011 - 09:57

“not focusing on the next moment, but instead breathing, living through this one”

YES.
Bridget
September 13th, 2011 - 10:00

“It matters. You matter.” Why does it take so long for us to figure this out? How much easier would things have been if I’d just accepted that one little sentence earlier in life?
Megan at SortaCrunchy
September 13th, 2011 - 14:40

Such a beautifully spoken way of sharing insight into the growth of struggle. Nothing fancy about living life the best way possible – in fact, sometimes it is the exact opposite of fancy.

I’m so glad you took some moments to just write.
Amber
September 13th, 2011 - 15:42

“I have an appreciation for life that comes with acting on the things that resonate with who I am.”

I believe this is the real reason we grow, as we act on stuff that doesn’t always makes sense but leads us to a better place and let’s us find out more about ourselves.

One of my favorite things is coming downstairs after a fabulous party that I avoided cleaning up after the night before. It does have a ghostly affect, but in a good way. Like a sense of what was and an idea of what can and should still be. Celebration of life. Laughter. And love. Lot’s of love.
Gianna
September 13th, 2011 - 15:56

WE all have worth and purpose even when you don’t know what to call it. This was a very serene picture!
Heather of the EO
September 13th, 2011 - 18:13

Yes. There is so much meaning in everything. Title or no title. Answers found or not. It’s all still there, all around. Thank you for spreading that truth across the page.
mich pendergrass
September 14th, 2011 - 07:33

Have you read Ann Voskamp’s A Thousand Gifts? I think you would really enjoy it.
Sarah
September 14th, 2011 - 07:46

Mich,
I haven’t, but I have heard good things about that book from a few different sources now. I just wrote it down so I’m more likely to remember to get a copy. Thank you!
sarah diama
September 14th, 2011 - 15:39

hey sarah, i enjoyed this post too, and can totally relate, about having a title to what you “do.” But, alas – what we ‘do’ as in job title does not define us, rather what you love and how you act from that love does help define us. Though most times i simply reflect love of myself and not of our maker… it is still encouraging to know that the ‘titles’ and ‘jobs’ of the everyday, are just that, labels, and not who we are.
AND Thank you for you and your husband’s part in my journey! I mean – countless hours of cleaning/working/singing/etc… together and leading me to where I would meet my future husband – ALL YOU GUYS! you two rock i love you and wishing we could meet up at the mellow mushroom for dinner… xoxoxoxoxox
Katie
September 15th, 2011 - 09:44

Action. Yes. That’s the hardest part for us reflective-navel-gazing-writer-types, isn’t it? Not to get too wrapped up in our own heads. Thank you for that.

“After all the frustration, struggling, tears, disappointment, and questions of the last several months, I still don’t have a job title or any title that I can dole out to explain to people exactly what it is that I do.”

Isn’t it funny, I finally got that job and job title, and I hate it! The grass is always greener and all that, I guess. I am glad you have found your joy again.
Sarah
September 15th, 2011 - 09:53

Katie, you’re right- the action is the hardest part for people like us.
I think we’re just going to “have” to stay in touch to encourage each other to find joy in where we’re at. I’m so pleased to have been able to come across your blog!
Liz
September 15th, 2011 - 13:44

Title, Schmitle The action is the important part!