Calm is... my mind when I catch myself and am “the observer”...
When I use all I’ve learned the last few years in the hard but ultimately worthy, and now easier, practice of mindfulness.
Calm are my 4am mornings (despite my young children often awaking too early and asking for help or my love and attention in some way 🥰).
I manage to sit in my rocking chair, at my white desk facing the window - I see trees, snow, grass... hear birds, my windchimes... I see and feel the sun slowwwwly rising in the east window ... I have build a beautiful routine with my noise-cancelling headphones 😊🎧, my guided meditations and breathwork, my prayer journal, my devotional, my rosary, my tarot card, my books, my eyes closed and heart opened, in union and embracing the light, listening, talking, and communing with God. 💙 It’s the best!
To me, calm is a state of congruence: whether it’s myself or something external that I’m considering, calm is when the pieces fit together in a way that is correct. To lack calmness is to feel disjointed, like something is incorrect in a scene or self. I think about it in terms of levels of severity of a dislocated bone, where you can feel that something just needs to pop back into place.
For myself, I struggle to find calm (a statement that feels contradictory). There are times when the alignment happens and it’s like a flow state, a sense of ease and congruence. I think finding more calm requires a mix of approaches: on the one hand, there is acceptance of chaos and existing in an ever-changing world; but on the other, there’s seeking the mend what you see as disjointed, where internally or in the environment around you.
Love this idea, and prompt.
Calm is... my mind when I catch myself and am “the observer”...
When I use all I’ve learned the last few years in the hard but ultimately worthy, and now easier, practice of mindfulness.
Calm are my 4am mornings (despite my young children often awaking too early and asking for help or my love and attention in some way 🥰).
I manage to sit in my rocking chair, at my white desk facing the window - I see trees, snow, grass... hear birds, my windchimes... I see and feel the sun slowwwwly rising in the east window ... I have build a beautiful routine with my noise-cancelling headphones 😊🎧, my guided meditations and breathwork, my prayer journal, my devotional, my rosary, my tarot card, my books, my eyes closed and heart opened, in union and embracing the light, listening, talking, and communing with God. 💙 It’s the best!
To me, calm is a state of congruence: whether it’s myself or something external that I’m considering, calm is when the pieces fit together in a way that is correct. To lack calmness is to feel disjointed, like something is incorrect in a scene or self. I think about it in terms of levels of severity of a dislocated bone, where you can feel that something just needs to pop back into place.
For myself, I struggle to find calm (a statement that feels contradictory). There are times when the alignment happens and it’s like a flow state, a sense of ease and congruence. I think finding more calm requires a mix of approaches: on the one hand, there is acceptance of chaos and existing in an ever-changing world; but on the other, there’s seeking the mend what you see as disjointed, where internally or in the environment around you.