Pink Place

When I close my eyes and relax my body, a lot, like all the way even my mouth and my forehead and my hips that I didn’t think weren’t relaxed but if I think about relaxing them can relax even more, when I scan through and let go, let go, let go, and breathe in and out, naturally, without trying to do anything special and without trying to not try to do anything special, but really just witness and experience my body breathing, in and out, being, I can get to what I call the Pink Place. It’s like sunrise and sunset inside me, every inhale and exhale. Sometimes I see pink, different pinks, which I can make up stories about, about how it might be the capillaries inside my eyelids or or or, or I can drop the stories and just enjoy, feel how it feels, without the what why, how, of it all, or at least noticing when I am making up stories about the what, why, how of it all. And maybe choose to stop doing that. Distraction.

And noticing if the stories I create are making the experience more fun or less fun in the moment. Or are they just taking me out of the moment to some other not pink place.

What’s the point of doing all this? For me, it’s like taking a swim in the kiddie pool, a ride with training wheels, or a run down the bunny slope, if you prefer.

I can practice being in the Pink Place when I’m alone, in the early morning dark light, in my warm comfy living room, with no one else around. With no outside reason in the world to not take a few minutes to feel what it feels like just being, and to move my body, brain, breath wherever they need to be to feel ... good. Pink Place.

Then, when the shit hits the fan, and it’s high noon and it feels like life has that gun pointed right in my face, then maybe, just maybe, I have a chance to remember the Pink Place, and get to it and take whatever action I’m going to take being there, on the inside. To feel Pink Place whatever shit storm or debris flow is happening on the outside.

I’m not advocating, well, maybe I am just a little. The constant striving, the not good-enough-ness, the push push push place, the Half-Empty, Oh No Place works for a lot of people to get a lot of different results. It worked for me to get certain results.

They’re not the results I’m prioritizing for me, for this life, for this day, today. And I get to choose, which is cool. I get to make a decision about where I want to live and do what it takes, for me, to be there more of the time. This life, my life, is a gift. I get to enjoy it. Now.

I’m gonna keep going.

For Jo