🧘‍♀️ Being Mindful

I woke up after three hours of restless sleep—exhaustion weighing down both my body and my mind. But I couldn’t fall back asleep. So I lay in bed, letting silence surround me. I decided to simply breathe.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I hoped sleep might find me again, but it didn’t. So I got up and sat at my computer to write today’s blog post. I began, as I often do, by opening Healing After Loss by Martha W. Hickman. Today’s reflection opened with a Celtic prayer:

God, bless me with the new day,
Never vouchsafed to me before,
It is to bless Thine own presence
Thou hast given me this time, O God.

I looked up the word vouchsafed. It means to be granted something—graciously, or even condescendingly. And just like that, the tone of my morning shifted.

🌄 Coincidence or Not?

Martha’s meditation spoke of mindfulness and learning how to be still—especially in grief. She encouraged taking a moment each day to sit in quiet, to listen to the stillness, and to find tranquility so we can move forward.

After reading, I opened Microsoft Word and tried out their new Copilot feature. I told them I wanted to write a blog post. It gave me over 1,000 words titled “The Art of Mindful Living: Embracing Presence in a Fast-Paced World.”

Was it a coincidence? I’m not sure. But I decided to take it as a gentle nudge from God.

Still sleepy, I closed my eyes and somehow got another hour and a half of rest. Once again, I find myself sharing these thoughts with you.

🌱 Mindfulness in Everyday Life

The beauty of mindfulness is that it doesn’t require perfection. You don’t need hours of silence or a mountain view. It’s found in everyday moments.

Here are some ways mindfulness can gently enter our days:

• Mindful Mornings – Start the day with intention. Breathe. Stretch. Look out the window and let the light greet you before the phone does.

• Conscious Eating – Pause and savor the taste, texture, and color of your food.

• Active Listening – When speaking with someone, be fully present. Hear their tone, see their face, and notice your reactions.

• Tech Breaks – Step away from screens. Sit in the quiet. Walk. Pray.

• Evening Reflection – Ask yourself: What lifted you today? What challenged you? Offer yourself kindness as the day closes.

☕ My Mornings Have Changed

Mindful morning routines? I wish I could say I had one.

Since Mark passed, mornings feel heavier. He used to bring me coffee in bed. He knew when I needed that second cup before I even had to ask.

Now I wake up, reach for my phone, and scroll through Flip and emails before I even get up. Making my own coffee still feels unfamiliar. I sit quietly, waiting for it to brew, not quite sure how to begin the day.

🍽️ Conscious Eating? Not Quite

Mark and I used to eat together—breakfasts, lunches, dinners around the table. Now I eat when I remember to, usually at my desk, distracted by work or scrolling.

I’ve always eaten this way—quickly, often without even noticing. Sometimes I look down and the food is just… gone. It’s a habit I wish I could change, but for now, it’s part of the rhythm I know.

🗣️ Struggling with Active Listening

I confess—I’m not always the best listener. My friend Verna calls every night, and Mark would always ask what she had to say. I'd reply, “I don’t know,” and it was true. I’d listened to her voice, but not her words.

I struggle with eye contact, too. It’s hard for me to look someone in the eyes the whole time we’re talking. Maybe it’s anxiety, or maybe it’s just how I’ve always been.

📱 The Truth About Tech Breaks

I don’t take them.

Whether I’m watching a movie, playing a game, reading, or scrolling—I go all in. I can’t pause midway. My family finds it frustrating, and I know it’s part of why I don’t sleep well. But stopping halfway through anything just feels impossible right now.

🌙 Nighttime Routines Never Stick

I’ve tried routines before. New journals. Quiet music. Reflection time. But the novelty wears off quickly, and I fall back into old patterns.

Maybe I resist them because I fear change. Or maybe I’ve convinced myself that nothing will help.

💭 Is Lack of Mindfulness Why Grief Hurts So Much?

I think it plays a part.

If I had been more present—if I had really savored those moments—would I feel this hollow now? Would the pain feel different? I don’t know.

But I do know that change feels hard. I’m not sure where to begin. Maybe after we move and things settle, I can try again. Slowly. Gently.

📖 A Message from a Friend

As I finished writing, a friend on Flip sent me a message that simply said:

“I wanted to share this with you today.”

It was Deuteronomy 29:1-9.

4 But to this day the Lord has not given you a mind that understands or eyes that see or ears that hear.
5 Yet the Lord says, “During the forty years that I led you through the wilderness, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet.”

This verse hit me. Even when I didn’t understand, even when I wasn’t mindful, God was still providing.

Even in the wilderness of grief… He’s still leading.

💬 Final Thought

I’m not very mindful. Not yet. But I’m starting to pay attention to the quiet moments. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the first step.