get out of your head - by Isabel - Mind Mine

I sit in a mostly empty bar listening to my friend play live music with his band. It’s getting late. I watch the recently-snowflakes-now-raindrops slide down the window behind them. I feel calm, content, like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I wonder: what if I gave myself permission to always feel this way? To always believe that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be—that I am on time. That everything I’m worrying about is going to be okay. That I’M GOOD. Truly, deeply, intrinsically, infinitely, timelessly good. What would that be like? How much time do I spend in my own mind, wondering if I’m on time, late, early? How much time do I spend thinking about time? More than I can track, because that time doesn’t go anywhere. It doesn’t become anything. It is time that I could spend trusting that I am where I am meant to be and all will work out if I pay close attention to the moment I’m in—if I make full contact with the present. I’ve been thinking about presence in terms of sen

I sit in a mostly empty bar listening to my friend play live music with his band. It’s getting late. I watch the recently-snowflakes-now-raindrops slide down the window behind them. I feel calm, content, like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I wonder: what if I gave myself permission to always feel this way? To always believe that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be—that I am on time. That everything I’m worrying about is going to be okay. That I’M GOOD. Truly, deeply, intrinsically, infinitely, timelessly good. What would that be like? How much time do I spend in my own mind, wonde