What Keeps Your Mental Boat Afloat?
I’m convinced that God doesn’t want us to be subservient.
Yes, we must play roles in our day-to-day living and yes, there are rules, suggestions and agreements–spoken and unspoken–that should be followed if we are to be satisfied living among people.
But roles and regulations need not define us, should not define us.
They cannot make us feel less than the incredible be-ings we are born to be.
I don’t know about you, but there are plenty of days when I watch, seemingly helplessly, as my incredible being-ness gets tidal-waved by insecurity and fear. The “what-if’s” rise up and bite my you-know-what.
This is why starting the day with a centering practice is so vital.
It keeps the I’m-not-good-enough and the what-else-can-go-wrong syndromes at bay.
I sure know the difference–when I jump out of bed and straight into my work, I usually run aground at some point. Oh, it might not happen with the first encounter with irritability. It might not happen when I run across a rude individual or even when there is a depressing email that crosses my desk.
But the chances are good that at some point in that day, my ship will stop sailing.
On the other hand, if I slip out of bed and into my mindful self, when I am tempted to go to shore during the day, I turn back instead to the buoyant, free-floating water that sustains me.
Buoyancy is my nature and my nurture since the cells of my body began to form.
I can reconstruct and maintain that easy sense of flotation.
Here’s what I do: I close my eyes and imagine my body swaying weightlessly in a beautiful body of water. I go to the salt waters of Turks & Caicos where I clearly see and feel the gentle turquoise waves as they lap around me.
Gently bobbing in the water, the sun warms my skin while the sea birds lull me into a meditative trance. It is here I fully connect with the God of my understanding. This place is where I mentally return time and time again so that when I’m not here I can still remain at peace and trust that no matter the drama of my day, I remain an incredible be-ing.
What is the centering practice that sustains you and do you find that when you skip it, your day is susceptible to “going aground?”



In July of 2009, I had an epiphany. For about a month prior, I was emotionally distraught, increasingly depressed and having serious thoughts of drinking again (after 18 years of sobriety).
I struggled to wrap my arms around what could possibly be wrong with me. I had all the trappings of a good life, one others would love to emulate--great job, dream house, traveling for a living, a life mate . . . the list goes on. 





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