Eyes and arms open wide.

By not knowing, not hoping to know, and not acting like we know what’s happening, we begin to access our inner strength. — Pema Chodron

I can offer presence, kindness and respect, but I can’t control how any of that is received. Maybe my behavior is noticed and appreciated, maybe it’s not.

Breathe to calm myself. Identify what I can do to help. Act, not react.

No specific person comes to mind — not that I live my life so skillfully that all those needs are already filled.
My first thought was of all the casual, transactional encounters I have each day. Store clerks, librarians, postal workers, bank tellers, restaurant employees, etc. Pausing, greeting, inquiring and thanking don’t alter someone’s life course but they can provide a lift in the day for both of us.

For listening.
Thank you for this question. I’ve never given it any thought before now, and it revealed something about myself that I hadn’t previously noticed — that maybe I’m a better and more frequent listener than I give myself credit for.

The truth is I am getting older. It seems useless and a waste of time not to accept it. Aging beats the alternative, to paraphrase an old adage.
There are fewer demands on me now. I have more time to observe, ponder and contemplate what this chapter of life can teach me, and there is so much to learn.
I have a depth of contentment that didn’t exist 30 years ago. I treasure that.

Two ears, one mouth. More listening, less talking.

A new day, a rested body and calm within me.

I notice a welcoming attitude toward the day.
Thank you for everyone’s beautiful responses. This is always a wonderful place to start the day.

By recalling the value of my mistakes and triumphs. If I try to steer someone else’s life journey, I deny them opportunities to gain not only their own hard-won wisdom but also the joy of overcoming their struggles.

Most of what’s happened in my life has been unplanned. I didn’t always feel I was exactly where I needed to be. Looking back, though, I can see how each decision, each circumstance brought me to where I am today. Grateful for life, grateful for what I’ve learned from all my unplanned experiences.

There are idiosyncrasies I work to shed, such as expectations of the way something should be done, but I would not miss those.
I would miss my little routines if I had give them up due to illness or failing abilities, like walks, PBJs for Sunday breakfast, reading in the morning with a cup of tea.

I’ve always loved the majesty and beauty of trees but reading “The Hidden Life of Trees” was a revelation. Trees have some level of awareness.
Oaks will feed extra nutrients to their saplings to help them win the race to the top against the other varieties. They “choose” when to produce acorns based on past weather information, which is somehow stored within them.

Mortality sharpens my awareness of each day’s ordinary joys – laughter, health, a conversation with a friend, connecting with my kids. None of it appears to be special because I assume that there will be more ordinary joys tomorrow, next week, or next month. But, remove that assumption and the sweetness of each day soars, along with my gratitude.

Liveliness is behavior. Aliveness is a state of being.

A smile. Patience. Calm. Who knows what opportunities will arise.

My mom. She had her share of difficulties but she stayed grounded. She practiced self-care before we had a name for it, taking a break from daily chores to read or to watch the squirrels and birds through the front window.

Love this. Thank you.