I’m a few years late to the party, but I finally got around to trying Mindfulness Coloring for Adults, or as I like to call it, coloring. I have to sing its praises.
I was working on the reindeer’s ears when my Violet-Rouge Crayola snapped in half. Three more crayons met the same demise (RIP Yellow-Green, Bluetiful, and Yellow). This was when I knew the Mindfulness Coloring for Adults was starting to work its magic.
After a breath, and then another breath, I relaxed my hand (and subsequently my arm, and subsequently my whole body) enough to get through the whole reindeer without breaking another crayon.
I have now done some online research and, from what I understand, breaking crayons is not the point – nor should it be part of the exercise. I may have done this wrong. I recommend coloring in any case.
Get the Look: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer Jumbo Coloring and Activity Book, bendonpub.com; Crayola Crayons 24-pack, crayola.com.
I am one of those people who derives great joy from ‘shopping’ for groceries in a field. I also like saving money on incredible organic produce and flowers, so there’s that, too.
We joined a CSA (community-supported agriculture) farm earlier this year. We pick up a box of produce weekly from a local grocery store. We also have privileges to go to the farm and pick flowers, herbs, additional produce…etc.
tl;dr – veggies are good for you and flowers are pretty and picking them right from the earth is the best ever.
wandering around an open field by myself and connecting with the earth and with the food that nourishes my body provides my mind with peace and a calm that I’ve had a hard time finding elsewhere.
it’s not. the farm gives you the option to pay in two or three installments. for a household of two adults and one child, our share averages out to $30/week. for that $30, we sometimes end up with more food than I can even cook in a week. I really don’t know how we lived without it.
this week, we ended up with about 15 sunflowers, a pumpkin, several huge bags of greens, bunches of fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, lavender, sage, oregano, basil), 3+ quarts of sauce tomatoes, 1 quart of cherry tomatoes, 1 pint of husk cherries, a pint of hot peppers, a few regular bell peppers, 1 quart of green beans, and a pint of tomatillos.
i will reiterate t h i r t y d o l l a r s. for all of that. and I could have picked more if I had wanted to.
the other things – the intangibles – are priceless. what my skin smells like after picking herbs. the peace of mind i take home with me. acknowledging and appreciating the life that buzzes and hums and grows and exists around me.
Like so many good blogs, this one was born during a bout of involuntary unemployment. i wouldn’t say i was ever sad about being let go. my office restructured and it wasn’t due to anything I had done wrong or right. often these changes are for the best. I don’t mean to be indelicate, because I know that for many people, losing a job is tough (to say the least), but for me, i am able to see it as an opportunity.
as of this writing, I have been unemployed for almost a month. i am finally starting to notice the little things about life that went unnoticed when my thoughts were consumed by work, and rushing around, and my next meeting, and my next event.
the cracks in the yellow paint on the curb. the way that dried up leaves dance in the wind. the creaking street sign that sounds like someone crying out for attention
most of all, i notice peoples’ facial expressions walking down the street.
i saw someone strolling down the street today – yes, I’d call it a stroll. Walking slowly, taking in the world around him. sipping coffee. it looked almost luxurious.
not long after, i saw a man who couldn’t chug his coffee fast enough, on his way somewhere, his mind was already at his next stop.
I was that guy! I used to be that second guy!
the moral of this stupid, simple story is be here now. Your job will let you go and you’ll be stuck writing a blog and wondering what art you missed in the world around you while you were being that second guy – the dancing leaves, the cracks in paint, the singing creaking signs on windy mornings.