“Plant seeds of happiness, hope, success, and love; it will all come back to you in abundance. This is the law of nature.” – Steve Maraboli
When I was in college, I was in a sorority with a lot of young women from well-off families. This wasn’t a stated objective in the recruiting process, as evidenced by the fact that I got in, but probably the result of legacy and connections. If some of my friends asked their parents for money, they’d come back to find $100 bills in their mail slot. They drove new cars – like beautiful convertibles – and they didn’t even have to share them with their siblings.
I was envious of their money. It seemed like they had it so much easier to me.
Thankfully, I’ve gotten over my envy of money. And not because I drive a brand-new car or have piles of $100 bills lying around.
It’s because I’ve moved on to being envious of people with time. I read something the other day about someone who had time to sit in their garden for a half hour and listen to the birds. I loved it except for the envy hangover I got. And my friend, Eric, has been off for the past three weeks driving through Joshua Tree and connecting with friends to do long-distance bike rides down the California Coast. Oh, how I long to have the time for a lengthy workout free of worry of whether it’ll make me too tired to be a good parent.
I’ve already given up cooking anything complicated, doing the dishes, and folding the laundry so what else am I to do?
I can rationalize away my lack of time – justify that I had oodles of time in my 30’s and 40’s when others were raising their kids. But it doesn’t help. Here’s the only cure I’ve found: practicing abundance.
If I can stop looking for a day to do yard work, I open to the possibility of doing it for fifteen minutes and getting some dirt therapy. Especially this time of year when I find it so cathartic to dig out what’s dead to make room for new growth, I get so much benefit when to keep my head down and only focus on the little patch in front of me. When I do, the same healing that comes from digging in to feel our roots arises. I can make a big difference in a small place.
I’d love to have many moments to string together to have lunch with a friend. Sometimes the pressure of knowing I can’t do this with ALL my friends keeps me from reaching out to ANY of my friends. Ridiculous, I know. When I do schedule something with a dear friend, I try to tack an extra 15 minutes on the end. It’s a cushion that rarely matters to the rest of my schedule and helps me feel the luxury of really being there.
While I rarely feel the burn of a great workout, I’m often sore so it reminds me that I am always doing something. It might not be a lengthy workout that goes from cardio, strength training, and then a little fun interval at the end, but I have plenty of opportunities to exercise something other than my patience. When I’m on the floor playing, I can be intentional about getting up off the floor without pushing off anything. And I can repeat the exercise a few times to get the extra burn. If I’m out walking with young bike riders, I can run along a little bit too. It’s reminding myself to be conscious of the little steps I’m already doing that seems to make a difference.
My abundance practice is not perfect – but as my meditation teacher, Deirdre, says – that’s it’s called a practice, not a perfect. It’s these little things I learn that keep me from moving on to being envious of youth. Because I wouldn’t give up these pearls of wisdom that I’ve picked up along the way to go back.
(featured photo on Pexels)
Speaking of abundance, I’m grateful for all the places that I have to post and interact. This morning, I’ve also published a complementary piece on the Heart of the Matter blog: The Subtle Shaping of Our Brains
Surprised By Joy 