Tag: Mindful Monday

Mindful Monday


Illustration taken from New Milford Counseling Center’s website, dated 9/27/22.

I’ve restarted Paul Lisicky’s memoir Song So Wild And Blue with intention. I’m not sure I can identify the passages I found that affected me on first reading. Immediacy and newness will be missing. I do know this was one of the things I read that resonated:

There was no way you could make anything without confronting what didn’t work about it. Making art of any sort was about learning to sit next to failure; if not exactly holding its hand, then riding in the back seat with it…

My other intention is to listen to Joni Mitchell’s songs as they’re referenced. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard most of them, and some I’ve never heard at all.

Though the book is a tribute to Mitchell’s music, its substance lies in Lisicky’s observations of how that music and her creative choices (which are also often life choices) helped shape him as a writer while he sought and found his own voice (as songwriter, lyricist, fiction writer, and memoirist).

Hearing the songs provides a way for me to be “in the moment” of the book, and also in the moment of my reality in this place, this time, as a reader. Listening in real time will slow down my reading experience, but among many great things about reading, one is: It’s not a race. Unless you’re trying to finish a book at your little sister’s house before you fly home. Or you have a paper due for a class, or a test on a book the next day. Or you’re a kid under the covers with a flashlight trying to defy “bedtime” while you read Little Women before you get one last parental check for the night. (Do these seem oddly specific? 🤣)

About today’s playlist: Songs I remember hearing when I was young hit different decades later. They all seem part of a longer biography. They all seem part of my newer fiction. They all seem part of then and now. They all seem both too old and too new.

They all seem like prophecy.

Songs identified by title in the first 73 pages:
“The Circle Game” 1966
“The Wolf That Lives In Lindsey” 1975
“Down To You” 1974
“Let The Wind Carry Me” 1972
“Same Situation” 1974
“Jericho” 1974
“Edith and the Kingpin” 1975
“Rainy Night House” 1970
“Blue” 1971
“Woodstock” 1970
“River” 1971
“Night Ride Home” 1991
“Otis and Marlena” 1977
“The Three Great Stimulants” 1985
“No Apologies” 1998
“Lesson in Survival” 1972
“Amelia” 1976
“I Had A King” 1966
“See You Sometime” 1972
“Banquet” 1972
“Talk To Me” 1977
“Song For Sharon” 1976
“Dreamland” 1977
“Blonde in the Bleachers” 1972
“The Priest” 1966

Mindful Monday

From “Studied Benefits Of Mindfulness Training” by Jon Kabat-Zinn, comes this perspective for nine attitudinal factors that constitute major pillars of mindfulness practice: non-judging, gratitude, patience, a beginner’s mind, trust, non-striving, acceptance, letting go, and generosity. According to him, these aren’t independent of one another: each relies on and influences the degree to which you are able to cultivate the others.

A lot to think about there.

On the house and home front, once we knew things were okay with the dishwasher, I finished cleaning and organizing under the sink. Some bottles and cans related more to tile, grouting, etc., went outside into our lean-to room. This is what’s left.

Since I was on the floor and had cloths and stainless steel polish at hand, I polished the dishwasher door, the front of the stove, and the trash can. Still need to do some counter appliances and the refrigerator door. Spring cleaning has commenced, though. My mother loved this stuff. I…do not. =)

Mindful Monday

I used Joseph Fasano’s The Magic Words poetry prompts book to speak in the voice of a Neverending Saga character whose trust has been broken. My characters’ lives may be radically different from mine, but I think their voices come so willingly to me because we share fragments of our identities, emotions, and experiences.

This was the prompt:

This is my character’s poem. I don’t reuse the same nouns or verbs (which Fasano says is fine–better to write for the poem than to a formula).

Mistake Poem

This is how a connection persists,
by losing its expectations.
This is how a falseness roots,
by falling in middle ground.
This is how a trust erodes,
by stumbling on concessions.
I am what I am, a willing accomplice
that loses, that falls, that stumbles,
and then that rises.
Look at me. Look at my breakthrough.
This is how a connection fractures.

©Becky Cochrane, 2025

Mindful Monday

Today is for beginnings. I have a couple of art projects I began that will become gifts.

We seem to be moving into a more moderate weather period, which means I started long overdue work on Aaron’s Garden–pruning, plant replacement (required a shopping trip), cleanup, and a few salvaged items from backyard decorations will find a new home there.


Last spring I found these rocks under leaves when I cleaned the carport. I meant to add them to the garden, but they’ve been sitting on this windowsill ever since. They’ve now been moved one step closer. =)

Succulents waiting inside for new pots, fresh soil, and the succulent food I give them.


Need to get all these leaves from the front porch and the garden bed into eco-accepted bags and on the curb.


With all the leaves, twigs, and other debris removed, tomorrow is the day I’ll get everything out, watered, and gardenish again. It was great to be outside a lot today–and also to walk through our local garden center, which was hit pretty hard by recent winter weather, but they’re restocking.

It’s clear enough to see our planetary neighbors and constellations in the night sky. Amazing!

I ran out of time today to revisit an old manuscript. I don’t have the original draft, but I’ve found some other false starts that may get my imagination taking on yesterday’s dragon. Tomorrow!

Mindful Monday


I got this beautiful image from Mindworks.org. I’m including the link because it’s always good to revisit guidance for improving mindfulness. Some of the words in the image are real challenges for me.

Last night, I was reading my Tom Robbins novel before bed and so much enjoying the euphoria of seeing someone put words together in all the right ways. I checked one of my social media accounts briefly before turning off the lights, commented on a post by someone (who I know only by being a fan of many decades), and my dreams wove crazy stories out of those two reading experiences. They included a song that I’ll now need to play to hear if my brain picked that particular song or its lyrics for my dream soundtrack for a reason.

Anyway, it all made me wake up in a good mood (plus there were two nice dogs snoozing next to me) but then…this…which I probably shouldn’t even post, but it speaks to some of my mindfulness challenges.

Oh, if only ones who told me some of my anxiety triggers would NEVER happen… At least the false idols will be taking good care of themselves.

I’ll be over here gutting deleting that chapter that’s given me so much trouble and trying not to think of real world nightmares for a while. Maybe I can put the words together in all the right ways.

Mindful Monday

Online, I found these “mindfulness” tattoos people have gotten.


mairaegito on Instagram


rachainsworth on Instagram


missmegstattoo on Instagram


matt.holistic_ink on Instagram


tinytattoos_feathertouch on Instagram

Like a couple of these, many tattoos were of words only: “Let Go” “Be In This Moment” “Be Still” “Be Here Now” “Breathe.” Keeping with this week’s theme, even when only words are used, I see them as symbolic reminders to be mindful.


tattoo gift of Rhonda, 2014

My only tattoo is this one for Aaron, to show he continues to be part of me, the nephew I love beyond death and separation. The tattoo reminds me to cherish what I have in the moment: family, pure love, laughter, and unity, and to try not to be overwhelmed by things not of this moment, whether the past or the unknown future.

Mindful Monday


A “mindful clock” reminds us to be in the moment.

Our sense of time is fluid because of our memories (e.g., either something happened that we’re remembering, or something happened that we fear could happen again). The moment it enters our thoughts, a memory turns us into time travelers. Sometimes that can be joyful, other times painful; sometimes comforting, other times agonizing. Mindfulness is not about forgetting or ignoring your memories or even your hopes and fears. Mindfulness simply provides the opportunity to be present in the current moment in a way that can refocus the brain from regret (about the past) or anxiety (about the future), for example.

Here’s a small excerpt using a life event from one of the characters in the Neverending Saga.

[He’d] never worn a watch. Even as a little kid, he’d had an adversarial relationship with watches, clocks, and possibly time in general. He was willing to adhere to most of the rules: bedtime; time to get up; be in your desk on time when the school bell rings; don’t keep parents, other family, and [teachers] waiting by being late.

[After the tragic loss of his parent,] he began to understand how distorted his perception of time could be. Some good things seemed to have happened long ago; bad things not only felt recent, but had such sharpness, rawness, that they seemed to happen again each time he thought of them, with the same impact.

Quoted text ©Becky Cochrane.


Time, time, time
See what’s become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities
I was so hard to please
Look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter…