Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens . . . When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don’t feel so bad. (from The Sound of Music)
White plates and cups, clean-gleaming, ringed with blue lines and feathery, faery dust; wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust of friendly bread. (Brooke)
Rupert Brooke, a soldier in World War I, wrote the poem excerpted above. In the midst of the hellhole of the trenches, it helped him to think of the things, the people, the places that he loved. He said that it kept him sane in the midst of unspeakable horror.
For those of us who are experiencing physical pain or emotional stress today, thinking of those things that we love is a way of centering ourselves in all that is most real to us. For me, it is probably the most satisfying way of meditating, of calming myself. Of prayer. Of gratitude. Of peace.
We often can’t control the seemingly fated conditions of our lives, nor can we sometimes turn aside from the destiny that seems to seek us out. But we can always choose to control the things about which we think. If, like me, you tend to be a tad obsessive, and/or have an overly active imagination, your thoughts can easily get away from you. We can catastrophize, awfulize, imagine all manner of dreadful or fearful things. As an effective way of dealing with this, I don’t know a better way than centering yourself on all that you most love.
The crisp, clean scent of rosemary . . . The wind rustling through the leaves . . . Sunlight through a blue glass bottle . . . A warm puppy . . . Great wooly sheep . . . A cherry nut ice cream cone . . . The sound of water flowing over rocks . . . Warm bedroom slippers . . . Drifting fields of lavender. . .