Sometimes they happen when, after several days of feeling good, I wake up in the kind of pain that is impossible to reason. Or they happen when I reflect on how long I have been sick, and how long it is going to take me to heal. Sometimes they happen for no specific reason at all. I just get tired of the work, tired of the journey, and I just want to stop.

But I don’t stop – for too long anyway. And the thing that propels me forward and makes me keep showing up is this – the moments.

There are moments in our lives, moments that when they happen make us say: “Ah-ha, this is it! This is what it is all about.” Sometimes they happen when I am on my yoga mat and all the pieces come together and I feel nothing but joy. Or they happen at a support group function when I see a member’s face transform from agony to acceptance over the course of the evening. They can happen in a phone call, or from an email, or an exchange on facebook. They happen all the time. We just have to be aware and present to receive them.

Yesterday I scheduled a last minute group meditation at the Chopra Center. It is something we do together once a month, but I missed the one earlier this month, so I scheduled an extra one just for me. As I was heading out the door, for a moment, I had the urge not to go. It had been a long day – 2 1/2 hours of yoga teacher training followed by 90 minutes of gentle yoga at the YMCA. I was tired, and could easily have stayed home, especially since no other members had signed up to go. But I showed up – for me – because meditation nourishes me, and I was pleased to be joined by another member at the last minute.

Group meditation can be powerful, taking you much deeper into your practice, but it can also create unique challenges. A few minutes after we were seated in meditation, a late-comer burst in the door, literally crashed into the chairs, and then took about 3 minutes to get settled. THEN the very loud band started playing at the nearby restaurant (end of summer festivities). AND THEN the very loud late-comer began snoring and snorting! At one point I had to focus very hard to keep from laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all!

It is the most distracted I have ever been during a meditation, and yet I still felt restored by it. Walking back to my car I realized I was not nearly as fatigued as when I arrived. I am certain I was not in deep meditation for too long because of all the distractions, but however much I did was enough. I am so glad I showed up. If I had stayed home I would have been feeding my fatigue rather than nourishing myself. And it was great spending some one on one time with a member who need some guidance.

So all in all, there were several moments last night to keep me going – and keep me laughing. I cherish those moments, and that is why I keep showing up – because you just never know when one will appear.

From davidji, Dean of The Chopra Center University:

“Rituals are powerful behaviors. And when you combine ritual with meaning, amazing things happen – you get transformation. And transformation is a form of evolution. So by adding meditation into your daily set of rituals, it will effortlessly become a part of you.”

Each morning we wake up to a new guided meditation in our email inbox, and it has taken just six short days for me to appreciate, and even crave the meditations led by davidji. I think I am well on my way to creating a new morning ritual!

Todays meditation began with a body scan. This is an important and very powerful exercise we can all do daily. It does not need to be part of a meditation practice. On its own it is a great way to become present and in tuned with individual sensations in our bodies – good and bad. Often it happens that we acknowledge the pain and lose sight of the rest. A body scan will allow you to become aware of the parts of you that are quiet and comfortable, even in the most severe flares. If you begin your day with an active awareness and celebration of the good, it may just help to manage the other.

So while seated comfortably with my head phones in, I followed the gentle, almost seductive voice of davidji as he lead us in a celebration and exploration of our bodies. First, I celebrated my toes:

“How are my toes doing? How are my toes? Let’s celebrate my toes.”

I did not get past my toes and I was already smiling and joyful with this exercise. My toes felt good! Happy little toes! Happy to stretch and wiggle and slide across the cool, smooth surface of the wood floors. Who knew toes could bring such joy? (Besides my little Koko. She loves toes!)

As we proceeded to scan and bring awareness to our bodies from the toes up, I discovered more and more things to celebrate. I celebrated my feet for the stability they bring me – moving on to my shins and calves, on up to my knees – celebrating my knees for all their flexing and bearing, and for how hard they work. And on and on upwards. It was a magnificent celebration of my body – the same body that for so long has been the source of so much pain – physical, mental, emotional. Not today. Today it was a celebration.

Can you imagine scanning your body right now and finding things to celebrate? I hope you can. And if you cannot, please, try the day six meditation for yourself. It takes about 15 minutes from start to finish. It may be best to try it in the morning, but anytime you can find to sit down and meditate is a good time.

So today was a success, as have been the previous five day’s meditations. I am so pleased I signed up to participate in this challenge, and grateful to have you to share it with. And I would really like to know – what did you celebrate today?

One of the first things I tell new members of FibroHaven support group – above everything – we need to learn to be our own best health advocates. Fibromyalgia is a condition with no known cure. There is not, and likely never will be, a single approach to treat and manage the condition. Most doctors do their best within their limited resources in identifying and trying to treat each of the separate symptoms of the condition, but few are masters of treating the whole.

In their desire to bring you relief, you may leave with one prescription for pain, another for sleep, and still another for IBS. And when those fail to bring the desired results, or when the side effects are worse than the condition they are intended to manage, you start all over with a new prescription, and new hope that this time it will be the answer. And the cycle continues. Even for those whose symptoms are improved, and their days are made more manageable, the condition remains.

So our anger and frustration builds. We see doctor after doctor hoping this one can help – that one will know, and when they can’t, and when they don’t, we blame. We blame our doctors for not understanding, and we blame the pills for not working. We dwell in a state of feeling hopeless and misunderstood. We lose faith that it can ever get better. We become defeated, and in doing so our symptoms grow in strength and severity because we have relinquished our control. Fibromyalgia wins. We lose.

Can you see how depleting this continuous cycle of hope and disappointment can be?

It is this disappointment and incredible letdown that I believe can be alleviated if we reevaluate our expectations of the fibromyalgia doctor-patient relationship. Despite all efforts, our doctors are limited in the relief they can provide. If we understand this going in, and set reasonable expectations for what we hope to achieve under their care, we free ourselves to possibility rather than despair.

First, we must change our expectations of what a doctor can do.

A good doctor will partner with you and guide you to make the changes necessary to improve, but even the most fibromyalgia literate doctor cannot make this go away. Know this going in and you are much more likely to have a positive experience and partnership with the right doctor.

I did not start healing until I took control of my health out of a doctors hands. Once I understood they do their best, but their best is limited when it comes to fibromyalgia, I began to make the changes I needed to begin healing. Because I chose to manage my symptoms without the use of pharmaceuticals, my need and expectations of my doctor were reduce considerably.

I incorporated alternative medicine, finding tremendous relief from a holistic chiropractor. His treatment was unconventional in that he rarely adjusted me, but used laser therapy and also addressed my nutrition, introducing me to a gluten-free diet. He also worked to eliminate several infections I had including heavy metal toxicity.

Once my chiropractor worked with me to consider how nutrition played a role in how I was feeling (something, remarkably, I had never considered), I began to examine all areas of my life to see what changes I could make to begin living well with fibromyalgia.

I incorporated yoga to get moving again. I began meditating to help me find balance and peace amidst all the chaos of chronic illness. I became more active with my support group to connect with people who validate my feelings and experiences. And I began to improve. Slowly, gradually, I improved. But more beneficial than any physical improvement was my emotional improvement. I found hope.

By making these changes I took control of my health. A loss of control is something we all struggle with. When we give that control to our doctors, and they fail to make acceptable improvement in our lives, where does that control go? Do we keep giving it to others who, despite their intentions, are limited in their ability to help, or do we take it back. I say take it back.

Walk into your doctors office and let them know, I know you cannot cure me, but let’s see what we can accomplish together to make me better. Better than anyone, you can – and should – determine what is best for you.

Researchers used functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) on 36 female subjects – 18 fibromyalgia patients and 18 healthy subjects – to obtain their newly published results:

Our results clearly show that individuals with FM have greater connectivity between multiple brain networks and the insular cortex, which is a brain region previously linked with evoked pain processing and hyperexcitability in FM,” said Dr. Napadow. The research team found that patients with FM had greater intrinsic connectivity within the right EAN, and between the DMN and the insular cortex — a brain region linked to evoked pain processing. “In patients with FM, our findings strongly implicate the insular cortex as being a key node in the elevated intrinsic connectivity,” added Dr. Napadow. “Patients demonstrated greater DMN connectivity to the left anterior, middle, and posterior insula.” In the right EAN, FM patients demonstrated greater intra-network connectivity within the right intraparietal sulcus (iPS). Researchers found no differences between the FM and healthy control groups for the left EAN or the MVN.

Essentially what that means to us is that there is a new study demonstrating a diagnostic difference in the brains of people with fibromyalgia and how we process pain.

This study will need to be duplicated and reduplicated before we see any big changes in the diagnosis and treatment of fibromyalgia, but it is good progress. Not only does it add validity to fibromyalgia, but it could lead to a decisive diagnostic test for the diagnosis of fibromyalgia. This has been one of the greatest barriers we have faced in the acceptance and treatment of fibromyalgia.

Story Source:

Wiley-Blackwell. “Resting Brain Activity Associated With Spontaneous Fibromyalgia Pain.” ScienceDaily 30 July 2010. 1 August 2010

What do you do when you are having a relatively good day, but suddenly hit a wall? Do you push through, or do you slow down and give in to it? There is a BIG brick wall looming just ahead of me. Can’t decide if I want to try and hurdle it or lay down before I smash my face into it! Let’s discuss. I would love to know how you manage.

There were many great responses that are worth taking the time to read. After reading them I knew I wanted to continue the conversation with a new blog post, and as often happens in life, I was further inspired to do so by my yoga practice today.

I was in a new class with a new instructor. This is always a thrilling and completely terrifying experience for me. Will I be able to keep up? What is their teaching style – gentle and nurturing or kick-butt boot camp style?

The teacher has a dramatic effect on your yoga experience and sets the tone for the entire practice. My favorites are the gentle leaders who guide with simple, clear directives and encourage everyone to honor where they are on that particular day. A good yoga instructor understands that our bodies can be different from day to day – even from morning to afternoon, and afternoon to evening. This is just one of the reasons why yoga – with the right instructor – is an excellent mindful movement for fibromyalgia. But I digress…

Just a few moments into my practice, I knew I had chosen the right class. He was gentle and clear, explaining how to elongate the spine while bending gently to the side. With my eyes closed, I focused on his voice and his directions, and found new joy in a pose I have done many times. It was a great “ah-ha” moment and my body responded with pleasure.

And then he said something that I felt like a wave rushing through my entire body:

Find the space between pleasure and pain, and rest there.

I was instantly overwhelmed with the intention and deep meaning that statement held for me. Much deeper than the obvious benefit it was to my practice on my mat that day – it is something we can all apply directly to living well with chronic illness everyday. Read it again. Read it several times. Read it out loud.

Find the space between pleasure and pain, and rest there.

How does it make you feel? For me, I felt empowered – empowered to know that space exists and empowered to know I was learning how to find it.

The space between pleasure and pain. This concept is difficult for the fibromyalgia sufferer. It is a space many do not know how to reach. And even if we do reach it, we may not be able to appreciate it, as we have become conditioned to brace ourselves for the next surge of pain. Admit it, some of you think finding this space is as likely as finding a unicorn there when you reach it. Right?

But this space is real. It does exist. We just need to learn to quiet ourselves long enough to find it, and then trust it enough to relax into it.  It is like finding the silence between our thoughts with meditation – the silence is there, we just have to learn to find it. It takes effort. It takes practice. It requires mindfulness. But it is real.

Rest. A simple word that is a difficult concept for those of us living with chronic illness. Often we are forced to rest, and it is anything but restful. Then, sometimes we chose to rest, but we are distracted by all the other “more productive” things we can be doing with our time. We fail to see how productive resting truly is.

Like all mindful approaches to living, embracing and living in the restful moments is a process. It takes work. How ridiculous does that sound? It takes work to learn how to rest. I wrote it. I believe it. And it still makes me chuckle reading it.

In general, our culture does not embrace rest. We have been conditioned to make the most of every moment. Multitask. Leave no stone unturned. But what bad could possibly happen by leaving a few stones be while you embrace the joy and restoration of rest? Really? Why can’t we learn to love the silence and enjoy the rest?

We can, but it is going to take work – and practice. We have a lot of conditioning to undo. And it is not going to undo itself. Through yoga and meditation – I am starting to come undone. I am unraveling and letting go of the tension I held so rigidly to for years. My space between the pleasure and the pain is growing and I am learning to rest there. I am learning to embrace my chosen moments of rest, rather than wait for the brick wall to force me into it.

You have that space too. We all do. Even on the days when you are certain it does not exist, it does. If you believe it, you can begin to find your way to it – and rest.

You know how it is in those moments when you get completely inspired – everything is brighter in that instant and you know your life is forever going to be changed for the good. Then you get home, and you set the books down. Life picks up exactly where it left off and you forget. You forget how inspired you were. You forget how to change, how to be better. Heck – you even forget to read the books. Yep, that is exactly what happened.

So I haven’t read his books yet, but I do get his monthly newsletter, and the title of this month’s article really spoke to me: Vulnerable Leadership.

That is exactly how I am feeling these days as the founder and leader of FibroHaven – vulnerable.

You see, my purpose is to share and encourage. I want to be a positive voice and a leader in living well with Fibromyalgia. But how can I do that when I have been feeling miserable since May? Since 1996 really! It is something I struggle with everyday. And it is the reason I am feeling vulnerable today.

I choose not to share the miserable stuff here. You know all too well about it. I would not be explaining or describing something you have not experienced many times yourself. But how do I balance the vulnerable me – the me that lives daily with the ever present and fluctuating symptoms of fibromyalgia – with the hopeful me – the one who embraces life as much as possible despite my constant fibromyalgia companion.

I don’t know. I do not have the answer. But in his article, Mike shared five key principles of vulnerable leadership, and that is where I am going to start.

1) Admit and own your mistakes

My mistakes are many! Daily even. Do you know I have been planning a relaunch of FibroHaven for months? It is still going to happen, and it is going to be really exciting when it does (great new features I know you are going to love), but as the creator, leader, and main cog of FibroHaven, I have dropped many balls.

Sure my health is partially to blame, but so is my procrastination, and my lack of follow through, and my frustrating tendency to sit back sometimes and let life come to me. It doesn’t, and it won’t. It is on me to make this happen. I chose FibroHaven. Nobody asked me to do this, but now that there is this wonderful community connected because of it, I need to follow through better – and I will.

2) Share your fear and insecurity

My fears are many too. Putting myself in the position to be a voice of positivity and change, I fear letting you all down by not changing quickly enough myself. I believe in a holistic approach to wellness, and I have been perusing that approach for a better part of a year, but I am nowhere near well. I fear this makes me a hypocrite and a fraud.

The thing that brings me back to share my philosophy is that I believe in my heart that I will get better. I will improve. I am on a wellness journey, not a crash course. And my hope is that by sharing it here with all of you, something I say may trigger a change in you. Something I experience may inspire you.

I have two purposes on this journey – get well, and encourage you to take your own wellness journey. But there are moments when I feel like “Who the hell am I to encourage someone else when I have so little to offer myself today.” I like it when those moments pass. And fortunately they always do.

3) Don’t take yourself too seriously

This one is pretty easy for me. My sense of humor is my lifeline, my core, my compass. Laughter really is the best medicine, and I am usually the first to laugh at myself. I can share funny and embarrassing things about myself here (and I have) because it is real, and that is life.

Remind me to tell you about the day I ended up ankle deep in wet cement because I thought the construction guys were coming on to me – not yelling to warn me about the wet sidewalk they had just laid. That ended well.

4) Share your own process, journey, and challenges

That is exactly what this blog is – my shared journey. Good to know I am doing this right!

5) Ask for and receive help from others

Oh this is a tough one for me. Now I will be the first to advise you to do this for yourself, but to put it in practice in my own life – that is so hard for me. Again, refer back to my often feeling like a hypocrite. It is for reasons like this.

Do as I say not as I do, right? Wrong! I really need to work on this for myself. There are so many areas where I could use help just with FibroHaven. Who knows, maybe if I were not so stubborn and short-sighted I could have launched the new site by now. I don’t know. All I know for sure is that I am flawed. I have a lot of work to do on myself. And sometimes this makes me reluctant to get on here and advise and encourage you.

But please know this, that everything I share on here, I share because I care. I know how dark this chronically ill life can seem at times. I know how isolating it can be. My hope is to shine a tiny little light, and maybe start a conversation or two.

One of my greatest moments came the other day when two people I met through FibroHaven became friends because of FibroHaven. One lives in California, the other in Virginia. Their paths may have never crossed were it not for FibroHaven. That is it. That is what it is all about for me. And that is what keeps me going on the days when I feel like no one should look to me for advice and support.

There is a reason for all of this. Maybe I am meant to fail and flounder. Maybe that makes me more real. I don’t know. But I do know that I love this community. It gives me courage and reinforces my hope.

And there it is. My vulnerable side…

How often have we struggled with our new reality?

How often have we grown weary and frustrated with trying to decide who we are and how we now matter?

How often have we wondered if it will ever get better?

For many years I ignored and hid my struggles. My symptoms were moderate enough for me to do so, and the only person who really knew my reality was my husband. But then my crash came and the days of pretending were over. I was faced with having to accept a version of myself that I thought was weaker, useless, less than. It took me a long time (and it is something I continuously work on) to determine that I still matter – that I can still have a purpose. I may never have the freedom again that comes with perfect health, but that does not mean I cannot have a meaningful and inspiring life. My mind still reflects back to the “healthy” me, and there are days I long to be her, but I have found a sense of value and purpose in the chronically ill me. I am whole, despite all that is missing. And truthfully, I like the new me more than I ever did the active and successful (and high strung and stressed out) former me.

Now how do I share my personal epiphany and encourage my new member without sounding preachy or all-knowing? Because if you read my blog regularly, you know I do not have all the answers. I am a work in progress, and I do a lot of my work in a very public way by sharing it here.

My message to my new member was this: Until you learn to let go of who you were, and accept who you currently are, you will not be able to move forward. You will be stuck trying to get back to a “you” your body is no longer capable of being. By continually looking back, you are fostering frustration and anger rather than acceptance and possibility. Examine who you are now, come to terms with it, and then make a plan to move forward.

Accepting where you currently are is not the same as accepting you will always be in this state. It is simply the first step in readying yourself to move forward. You need to be aware and honest with yourself so you can focus on doing the things that are within your ability that will help you move forward. Let go of what you used to be able to do, and work within your current capabilities. And it is work. But you can improve. You can get better. But only by letting go, and working to move forward.

We all have interests and desires and passions. Some we have had to let go and can be no more to us than comforting memories of the past. But others are still attainable and aid us in moving forward. For me, it is my writing. Some days my brain and body will not cooperate so I don’t even try. There are days when it is too miserable to sit at my computer, but my brain is active and swirling with great writing ideas. Now if I were totally together and on top of things, I would make myself comfortable on those days and use an audio recorder to capture the words running through my brain. But do I? No – not yet. I am a work in progress.

But here is the thing, by accepting where I am, I have opened the door and stepped out onto the path towards improvement and growth. I do not know exactly where I am going, I just know I refuse to stay still. Each day I carve out a new piece of my path. Somedays I make great progress, others I just kick some dirt around and examine the scenery. But the one thing I will never do on my path is just lay down and let the weeds grow over me. I like myself way too much to do that, and I am too excited to see where my road is leading.

I do not consider it a failure that I meditated for the first week of May, and then let myself get away from it. Instead I think of it as a learning opportunity – a chance to examine my goals and purpose further, and to ask myself some thoughtful questions.

Why did I stop?

The easy answer is – I stopped because I went on a family trip, and with all the travel and socializing it was difficult to find the time. And when I returned home I had a lot of work to catch up on, and support group functions to prepare for. I was busy! I had to prioritize – right?

Yes, these are the excuses I gave myself for why I got away from my meditation practice, but upon reflection they are not very good reasons. Isn’t life’s “busyness” the very thing meditation can help me manage? It is certainly one of the things I am hoping it will help me to manage, so I took a deeper look into my motivation.

Why do I want to continue?

Why is this important to me?

These questions were easier for me to answer, because despite my lack of follow-through, my motivations have not changed: I want to be well. I want to be whole. I want the peace and clarity of mind that comes with the silence. I want the daily charge and reinforcement I feel each time I meditate. I want to be centered and grounded. I want to feel alive and open to the world around me. I want the restoration of body that comes with the soundness of mind.

In her book, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhist Meditation, Christina Feldman states, “Meditation requires patience, openness, and acceptance. Each moment in our life asks for our willingness to greet it as a teacher.”

Patience, openness, and acceptance. I wish all three for my life. Meditation is a path to the life I am desiring. This is why I wish to continue. This is why meditation is important to me.

So with patience and kindness to myself, I begin again. And if I fail, I will begin again. There are no rules, or pressure, or standards. There is only my desire, and my never-ending ability to grow and learn.

If I say “I am in a lot of pain today,” does that influence the way I deal with my pain that day? I think it does. Pain is not a static mass. Sit quietly and pay close attention to your pain. It moves, it fluctuates, it varies. Now if I state to myself or out loud that I am in a lot of pain, I may not allow myself the awareness to focus on and appreciate the moments when the pain is less.

Sometimes I will find that I am in a good frame of mind – despite whatever symptoms are nagging at me – and someone will ask me how I am doing. I know they are asking how my symptoms are that day, so instead of focusing on why I am feeling good in spite of it all, I focus on what is nagging at me and will respond with something like, “Okay but a little fatigued today.” What a wasted moment. I missed the opportunity to build on my positive state of mind, and all of a sudden I am more focused on how tired I am!

Language influences our thoughts and feelings.

If instead I say, “I am doing pretty good today,” then that becomes the emphasis of my immediate reality. I am doing pretty good!

Pain is real. The pain of fibromyalgia is a reality we are all too familiar with. I am not advocating we ignore it, or pretend it is not there. I am just suggesting that we think and talk about it in a different way. Instead of declaring, “I am in a lot of pain today,” maybe I could change my language to focus on the positive; “My head feels clear and focused today. I think I will write a blog post!”

Let your language help you to find the joy in even the bleakest moments. Find a positive to focus on and state it out loud. Make it your reality.

I am not happy in spite of my pain. I am just happy.

Last May I challenged myself to a 30 day writing project. My thought being, it takes roughly 30 days to develop a habit, so for each day in May I wrote a blog post. It was a success on some levels, but I failed at making writing a daily habit.

Writing is a form of meditation for me. I write more than what you see here on my blog. I do not always enjoy the process of writing, but I enjoy it most when I am singularly focused on it and my only purpose is on finishing my current sentence and thought. I love those moments when I am completely absorbed in the act of writing.

“Learning to be mindful and present, clear and attentive is the doorway to a life of depth and joy.”

Mindfulness is something I seek to achieve in all aspects of my life – writing, relationships, work, eating, exercise. I want to be happy and present in what I am doing in the moment, not regretful of my past, or anxious of my future. I want to learn to be present in the now, and find a greater joy in the present. I believe meditation is a path to the joy I seek.

I have dabbled with meditation – taking a group class here, listening to a guiding voice there. Each experience with meditation has been restorative and encouraging, but my knowledge and understanding of it is relatively minimal. So this May I am challenging myself to another 30 day project.

For the next 30 days I am going to explore different types of meditation, and practice meditating for at least 20 minutes each day. My goal over the next 30 days is to learn more about the many styles of meditation, and to find the one (0r ones) most compatible with my needs. I also hope in the process to establish a habit, and continue beyond May to dedicate the time each day to meditate.

“There is no end to the meditative process: it is a lifelong practice that can be undertaken by anyone, regardless of age and spiritual beliefs, and there is no right or wrong time to start on your meditative path.”

I am beginning my meditation journey with a book that is intended to help readers begin a meditative path, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhist Meditation,  by Christina Feldman.

Beginner’s Guide to Buddhist Meditation is a beautiful book, filled with soothing images and helpful charts. Organized in a way to guide the beginner from the basics – how to meditate, when to meditate, where to meditate – through the styles and obstacles of meditation, Feldman’s book opens a simple and straightforward door to meditation. There are no rights and wrongs in Feldman’s meditation teaching, only loving kindness and heartfelt communication.

“Meditative teaching is not an exhortation or demand but an invitation to explore the ways of walking new paths of mindfulness and wakefulness. It is an invitation to discover a deeper well-being and inner richness that can transform every aspect of our lives.”

One of my goals for my journey into meditation is, according to Feldman, one of the central teachings of meditation: to be at ease with the events of my mind and body.

We all know that even in the mildest flare, we can become consumed and overwhelmed by the pain we are experiencing – and even by the pain we are not currently experiencing, but are remembering and anticipating. Pain is a powerful motivator for fear and anxiety. I believe it is possible to overcome fear and anxiety, and I believe meditation can help by teaching me compassion, peace, and understanding.

“Understanding: Central to the Buddhist path is the understanding that we cannot avoid aging, sickness, or death. We cannot avoid all loss, sorrow, and heartache, and the endeavor to do so only magnifies pain. We do begin to see that confusion, agitation, fear, and stress may become optional in our lives.”

Fear and stress are an option? If this is so, I doubt we can just accept that it is. At least for me I know it will take practice to learn to let go of my ingrained responses and accept joy. I want to learn to find the joy that exists with the pain. I believe it is there. I just need to learn how to find it.

“Meditation is not about avoiding or softening the blow of moments of conflict and difficulty that we are bound to encounter during our lives. Rather it is a means to approach these moments with clarity, understanding, and calm.”

Beginner’s Guide to Buddhist Meditation is so rich in thought, context, and instruction, I am certain it will serve my desire to develop a regular meditation practice to reread it several times. It is simple and approachable, but Christina Feldman has packed so much guidance and wisdom into its short 96 pages, each time I open it a new passage jumps out at me. Just look back over all of the above quotes and you can see the richness of concepts and wisdom Feldman shares. It is a great tool to begin my journey into meditation.

Are you interested in learning how to meditate, or in deepening your current meditation practice? Then let me recommend Beginner’s Guide to Buddhist Meditation to you. And fortunately I can do more than recommend it. Feldman’s publisher Rodmell Press has again generously donated a book to give away to one commenter. Just leave a comment, and on May 14 I will randomly select a winner to receive this beautiful introduction to meditation.

Join me on my quest for more mindful living. Through meditation we can learn to find acceptance of our illness and joy in the meaningful act of living.

“In your meditation, as in your life, you will have to choose over and over whether to follow the paths of impatience, judgment, frustration, and complexity, or the pathways of patience, acceptance, balance, and simplicity. Increasingly, you will come to understand that the choice lies in your own heart.”