November has always been the toughest month of the year for me. In the Northeast, where I grew up and now live, November heralds cold weather, shrinking daylight, bare trees. When I lived in San Francisco, November rang in the rainy season, it meant walking dogs during downpours, befriending mud. November messes with my serotonin levels, robs me of jogging, turns me into a person who can recap TV shows. My sister died in November.
Today, I woke up heavy, November pressing down on me like a vise, reminders of all that was and is lost in November racing around my head. But then a wonderful thing happened. I sat down to work, and at the top of my To Do list was writing articles for a newsletter I produce for a Fortune 500 corporation. Since I work on a six-month lead time, the copy I’m currently writing will be published in April. The topic for the front page of that April issue is spring cleaning.
Typically, I write how-to articles for this newsletter. A spring cleaning article, in the past, would have entailed tips for getting rid of unwanted items, how to host a garage sale, how to sell on eBay. I would have included organization tips, how long to hold on to certain types of paperwork, what to throw away right now. The spring cleaning article I wrote today, however, did not focus on physical clutter. Instead, I focused the article on how to clean out the mind.
Everything starts with a thought, and a thought can be changed. I read this in Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life over 20 years ago. It may feel as if I’m powerless over my thoughts, but the truth is I can choose my thoughts the same way I choose anything else in my life. I can choose to change the way I think of November.
November is the season of gratitude, thanksgiving. It may not be my favorite weather, but I’m grateful I’m alive, healthy, enjoying a life that is a million percent easier than the lives of 90 percent of the world’s population. I’m grateful for all the amazing people in my life, people I’ve known my entire life, people I met in the various cities in which I’ve lived, people I’ve met through travel and school and yoga and flying trapeze. I’m grateful I have a job that still teaches me the things I most need to learn.
I’m grateful for the mentor who suggested this simple meditation, which always fills me with love and gratitude:
Be still and know that I am God…
Be still and know that I am…
Be still and know that I…
Be still and know that…
Be still and know…
Be still and…
Be still…
Be.
It’s all about context, I heard once. Gratitude is a great context. Thanks.