The Gentle Moon and the Pull of 90 Minutes

Part One

Here is my L’exercise regime per annum…

1 Joined a Gym in January;

2 Fought the Flab in February;

3 Managed more Mindfulness in March;

4 Attitude Adjustment in April;

5 More Mindfulness in May as My Memory… erm;

6 Jogged dutifully in June;

7 Jumped Joyously all July;

8 Added Additional Attitudinal Adjustments in August… from the Beach;

9 Sought Solace in Sacred Silence in September;

10 Ought to do more in October, but didn’t;

11 Not much in November neither;

12 Decided in December to do more again… in January!

I go through “Cycles of Good Intent” – and the cycles continue because I inevitably run out of enthusiasm… or time!
No deep message today save that of, “be gentle with yourself” and “honour the Seasons of Your Soul.”

You see, your body is one amazing set of clocks and cycles.

You work in cycles: daily, monthly and even down to major changes every 90 minutes.
Sometimes we attach our commitment to the wrong cycle.
For example, we might set a goal for the year ahead whereas we would be kinder and more sensible to think a month ahead.
This is the kindness of the Gentle Moon in contrast with the righteous intensity of the Sun.

Even the Sun has Seasons in the Temperate Climates – 90 days is enough to make a change.
So set a goal for Spring;
Another for Summer… it is here!
Like a Fashion House, work on your Autumn/Fall Collection;
And remember Winter has it’s unique charms.

Part Two

If you have s-t-r-e-t—c——-h———-e—————d too far, come back a bit and think,
“Is this a goal for a Season? No? How about a Month? No? How about the Week Ahead? No? How about Just For Today?”

And sometimes, just sometimes, the gravitational pull of the next 90 minutes is quite enough to cope with.

Loving thoughts from Lex!

Where Is Your Attention?

Today’s post is inspired by something Suzy posted on the Moodscope blog.

One of my favourite thoughts is: “Where is my attention?”  Some people have an enviable gift for shifting their attention to whatever is positive or beautiful, interesting or fascinating.

I’ve just been sent an advert for a new camera that you hang around your neck or clip to your clothes.  It has ‘intelligent’ sensors that decide when and when not to take a picture – automatically.  The idea is that it becomes a journal of where your attention is.
I wonder what the camera would capture for each one of us… Where would our focus be throughout the day?

I like the purposeful way.  “I went to the woods that I might live deliberately…

The deliberate choice is to stop and pay attention (and after all so many people are SO poor, they can’t even pay attention!)

W. H. Davies expresses this “Press Pause and Attend” attitude in his poem “Leisure”…

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

This is all the more poignant when you read about William’s history. Apprenticed as a frame-maker, he was clearly used to framing a focal point.

So, today, where will your attention be, and how will you frame that experience?

If you had one of the new Autographer cameras, what would it be seeing?  (Great name, eh?  “Autographer” – clever- wish I’d thought of it!)


Poem: Sometimes


Poem: Sometimes
…life seems annoying
…people seem stupid
…the weather seems all grey
…I don’t know why I bother
And then
I hear your voice
And then
I see your smile
And then
I smell your perfume
And then
I know
It’s all worthwhile

Poem: Musing Oak

Acorns and Oak (Moku Hanga)

With sedulous care

I stopped to stare

At the details of the Oak;

The other people

Just hurried by

‘Twas lost on busy folk.

Their haste,

Such waste,

Had blinded them

To this miracle in wood,

But I stood still

To drink it in

As any poet would.

From little acorns

Might Oak Trees grow

Just like a thought given form;

So I returned

To pencil and paper

And thus this poem was born.

First pause for thought,

Breathe deep, inspire,

Your muse will kiss your inner eye

Then move your hand

And words will flow

With a heartfelt, satisfied sigh.