Operational areas, for me, are easier than administrative areas. There's more to do and 121 doesn't feel as sticky and nasty when I have something real to think about... but much of the world is run by lists and right now it is my turn to add stuff to lists.
Internet access is iffy and will be for a short while. When access solidifies I'll write more.
Right now, shut your eyes and identify five sounds, five touches and five scents.
A jet taking off.
Generator humming.
A nargila bubbling.
People around me typing.
Birds
The edge of the table against my wrist.
Sweat trickling down my back.
Shoes wrapped around my feet.
Wrist watch slipping to the side.
A light breeze on my forearms.
Nargila smoke- orange mixed with watermelon.
Woodsmoke.
Dust.
Only three scents. That is my weakest. I can't smell myself without trying right now, which is probably good.
6 comments:
Sounds: the clock ticking, my computer humming, a car driving by, my breath, a child singing on the sidewalk outside my window.
Touches: my palms on the keyboard rest, the pressure of the scarf holding back my hair, the long curls of hair brushing my skin where my back is bare, my glasses on my nose, and a velvet chair seat under my legs.
Scents: my sweat (just worked out), almond oil-lemon-rosemary hand salve I just used, limeade in my cup, roses in a vase across the room, the powdery scent of all the books surrounding me.
A nice exercise, I'll keep using it.
Sounds: My computer fan, which has a tick in it. The refrigerator upstairs is a faint rumble. Dakota's dog claws clicking on the laminate floor as she shifts positions. Dakota sighs. The whine of the external hard drive spins down and leaves a hole in the ambient noise of my office.
Touches: The slight give of the latex cover over my low-profile keyboard. The tension in my belly, not-quite a pinch, from hunger, but also I'm worried about one of our cats. The supporting pressure from my chair. A backache that's a combination of soreness from pulling weeds and a wee start of cramping. The never-ending sore throat, with it's pointy front, raspy sides and hot tunnels toward my ears.
Scents: New laminate floor just barely aged to smell like it belongs here, the catbox wafting in traces from the bathroom, humid scum from the bathroom sink and toilet, floral fresh air from the open sliding door that brings coolness with it, the clean, dry milk and dust scent of a healthy cat (who is on my lap licking my inattentive hands and purring like mad.)
The kid typing in the next room.
Voices in the park behind the house.
Bathroom exhaust fan running.
Basketball bouncing in the park.
My own sneeze just now.
My fingers on the keyboard.
My wedding ringer on my finger.
My weight on my feet--I'm standing.
Weight of my clothes on my body.
Stiffness in my waist from lying in bed.
Smells--not a damn thing at the moment. My sense of smell is notoriously poor.
That sensory exercise is interesting. Gonna have to make it a more regular part of my life...
Sounds: fan on computer, tv (dialog, car, doorknob turning, steps), AC unit, baby cooing, dog licking... (I don't wanna know what!)
Touches: wood of coffee table against toes contrasted against carpet under foot, leather seat, warmth of laptop on leg, shirt pulling at shoulders
Smells: I suck... I'm stuffed up and can't smell nothing right now!
Sorry to spam your comments, I couldn't find your email. I love your blog and added you to my links, and I'm following you now. I'm looking forward to digging around more past posts. Found you through jks9199.
I got this from a manual on Psychological First Aid. It was presented as a 'centering' exercise to help calm panicked children in a major disaster, like Hurricane Katrina. It has a lot of other values.
Roankoke Cop- Welcome. I went over some of your blog. Nice stories and good lessons. Hail and well met.
Post a Comment