Musings with Maggie: Fine

Friends, I’ll be honest, I didn’t have a lot to say in this issue, or rather, I didn’t think I did. But, who are we kidding? I always have plenty to say. After tossing around a few half-baked ideas, I started to think about why I didn’t have a recent revelation or inspiring anecdote to change my thinking.  

Have I stopped learning? Seeking? Striving? Who am I if I allowed myself to take a pause on deep introspection and intense observation of the world around me? I’ll tell you what I came up with: I’m human. I’m a human in the late stages of winter, navigating the post-holiday slog, and I’m keeping my ship afloat. And ya know what? That is just fine.

In a romantic comedy, I would be the sarcastic, clumsy sidekick. Historically, I could easily spill coffee on a white shirt, run out of gas, lose my wallet, and wear mismatched shoes on the same day. I once sprayed hand sanitizer in my throat because the bottles were similar, and I applied travel-size deodorant to my lips for a similar reason. My mind has often been in a different location than my body, and this has caused a fair amount of panic and a decent number of small crises over the years. 

I’m still that girl to some extent. I’m still a daydreamer, and always the slightest bit late to every single thing. (I try so hard. I really do.) But could it be possible that I have landed in some unprecedented state of calm? Of presence in my own life? What a concept! I’ve been experiencing this unfamiliar absence of frantic energy for a while now. I imagine this can be attributed to several things, including the simple fact that I am older. Everything used to feel so big. So urgent. I’m able to sort it out now. I can tell the difference between what matters and what doesn’t. 

Spending my days with children has a positive impact on my perception of each minute that passes. Moments are important. Memories are made in moments. That’s why, several years ago, I started documenting humorous things my students say. I might have missed these precious memories had I not learned to be present. 

Meditation has a massive impact on my sense of self, and my ability to stop and smell the proverbial roses. I won’t spend time trying to convince you of its merits, but I will say, there’s really no wrong way to do it. I used to think I had to position my body like Rafiki from The Lion King (which is wildly uncomfortable for me) and trick myself into some mystical state of nothingness. I would get progressively more irritated that my brain wouldn’t stop talking. This seems to be the experience of many people. I am the furthest thing from an expert, but I would recommend Yoga Nidra or another form of guided visualization to any beginner. Get yourself an app. Lie down and be comfortable. Give your brain something to do while your body gets accustomed to being still. Just try it.

If you think meditation is a little woo-woo, you may as well stop reading, because this next one sounds bananas. I talk to myself. On purpose. It’s even weirder than that: I speak words of affirmation to parts of myself as if they were separate entities. If I begin to feel anxious, I say to my nervous system, “Thank you for trying to protect us. I know you think we’re in danger, but I’ve got this.” If I become aware of my heartbeat, I’ll simply place a hand over my heart and say, “You’ve been working really hard every day of my life. You’re doing a great job.” If my knee creaks or my hip pops, I’ll say something like, “Oh gosh, you needed that, I guess! I haven’t been paying attention to you today, so let’s do some movement.” I’m immediately back in my body, and back in the moment. No panic, no urgency, just living. 

Have I lost you? Come back, I’ll be normal again, I promise. Or at least as normal as I ever manage to be. 

I’ll never finish working on myself, pondering my place in the world, wondering what to do next, and trying to figure out this life. But I’m proud of these largely uneventful months. I’m grateful that I just feel … fine. Fine is good. Fine is peaceful. I am not so naive as to think I’ll stay this way. There will be a new season, a new challenge, a new revelation. And I’ll be ready. Fine is enough. I hope you’re doing fine, too.