mindfulness

Feb

2023

Pleasure is a form of freedom

Pleasure is freedom.

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Because pleasure is mindful.

Pleasure is intentional.

Pleasure is intuitive.⠀⠀⠀⠀

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And to be in a state where you’re mindful, intentional and engaged with your intuition brings you directly into THIS MOMENT here. NOW.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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And in this moment there is freedom. Freedom from the past. Freedom from the future.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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Pleasure is truly about inhabiting NOW in a way that fills you. It doesn’t require fancy anything (though sometimes your pleasure will ask for that).⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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It requires only a mindset shift.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

One that has you knowing that any moment can be YOUR moment.

And that is freedom.

Nov

2021

Never Been Here Before

I’M DOING MY BEST TO SHOW UP FOR EVERYTHING IN LIFE. BUT THE TRUTH IS, SOMETIMES I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT I’M DOING.

There, I said it.

Sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing.

Like absolutely no freaking idea.

And that’s ok.

Cause honestly, I’ve never been a Mum to a 9 and 7 year old before.

I’ve never been in a relationship with the same person for 15 years before.

I’ve never been 41 before.

I’ve never had a business that earns as much as this one does.

I’ve never mastered reels.

I’ve never navigated homestay orders while a virus dictates government decisions.

I’ve never had to wear all the hats I do now, in the way I do now.

I’ve never before taught yoga and felt really truly deeply good at it.

I’ve never before felt this way.

I’ve never had this many tools.

I’ve never had the level of recovery I do today.

I’ve never ever been right here, in this moment that is now ever, ever before.

NEVER.

There’s a lot of firsts happening right now.

Some of them full of joy.

Some uncomfortable.

Some downright painful.

Some are just well, you know, whatever.

All of them offering me something should I choose to take a mindset that allows that.

I’m not beating myself about this sometimes not knowing what I’m doing thing. Because honestly, like I’ve just said, I’ve never been here before. Never.

How could I have? Here has never even existed before. And I’ve never been this me before this moment.

And that’s the thing. We gotta keep meeting ourselves where we are, with what we’ve got. Meeting life and our relationships with what they’re presenting, with the best of what we’ve got.

And so sometimes, when we don’t know what we’re doing, that’s absafuckinglutely ok.

So, if you’re feeling like this too sister, I see you. I got you. And if feeling like this is messing with your head I invite you to connect at emma@emma-mccann.com

Nov

2021

The Perfect Moment.

I was waiting for the ‘perfect moment’.

That sweet place where four children where playing happily, without conflict, without needing me for long enough that I could share with you what I was burning to share.

And that moment never came.

TBH, I wasn’t expecting it to. But I kept it in the back of my mind, waiting, JIC it did come.

Cause yesterday, I was celebrating hard.

Not because any one big thing had happened.

There was no lotto win

no house bought

no fancy new car.

I didn’t have a new outfit, a new toy, a new client.

I didn’t have a new plant.

Or an earth shattering orgasm.

I wasn’t celebrating a ‘single’ thing.

I was celebrating a cumulative effect of many many increments.

Increments so small that at times I didn’t even notice them.

Increments so big they were sometimes immediately obvious.

I was celebrating all the ways I’d shown up for myself in a container of coaching and counselling with my coach Johanna Parker.

All the ways I’d grown, shifted, changed, emerged, stabilised, solidified, clarified.

I was celebrating ALL.THE.THINGS.

Except there were too many to list in the one session.

I cannot begin to express in this moment, this one post, all that I received from this work. It was layers and layers amidst a lifetime of relinquishing layers.

One thing I know for sure, for absolute sure – and I say this as a person who has had therapy for the past 15 years and worked with a different coach each year on something or other for the past 4 years – that you are absolutely safe. Held. Met, with all that you are and all that you bring to the container of work you’ll do with Jo.

All of it.

All of you.

Held. Safe. Seen. Acknowledged.

No matter how big, how small, how joyful, how ‘ugly’.

May

2021

What does conscious living mean? An exploration.

Living consciously, with awareness, means being mindful enough to be able to recognise the impact we’re having on ourselves, the world and those around us.

Living consciously takes deep awareness.

And acceptance.

It requires us to show up for shit that’s uncomfortable, hard and sometimes downright ugly.

It also requires us to show up for what’s joyful and not fight the ease in life which we are so prone to do when addicted to stress and drama.

Living consciously requires us to show up for ourselves.

To celebrate hard.

To take radical responsibility.

It’s attempting to live without judgement.

In deep acceptance.

It’s leading by example.

Inspiring simply by being who we are and believing in the best people have to offer, in their capabilities and capacity to thrive and offer their gifts.

Conscious living means giving a shit.

And acting like it.

It means doing our best to create meaning through presence and awareness. By paying attention, listening.

It means honing our mindfulness skills so we can be present.

Sitting in radical responsibility for all that is ours.

Witnessing others in all that is theirs.

It’s more than this too.

More that I can’t express right now.

The more will come. Just not today. Look out for another chapter.

May

2021

Mindfulness. This moment.

I lay in bed and listen.

I can hear the soft rhythmic breath of the person bedside me.

I focus on just it for a moment.

I stretch my hearing further and found the birds outside.

Many different types of birds singing their early morning songs.

I hear the soft hum of traffic

the louder motor of a motorbike moving fast

I heard the flump of the heater igniting

and the soft movement of air through the vents

and then there was more air

it makes a rushing sound.

I feel the bed beneath me.

The softness that cocoons me

and the firmness that supports me.

I feel the weight of the covers over me

they come to my shoulders

the warmth encasing my body

and the cool on my face.

There’s a pillow beneath my face.

It’s soft.

The side of my cheek is pressed into it

I can feel my earring digging into my ear

my hair spilling over neck.

My legs are folded against and around each other.

I can tell the difference between the different items of clothing on my skin.

Some are firmer than others. Some a little firmer than others.

I notice my body.

I feel tension in my knee where I’ve got an injury

and tightness in my mid back on one side.

There’s a light something I can’t quite describe in words in my lower belly.

There’s an openness through my chest and my upper abdomen.

My breath comes easily

naturally

softly

my ribs expand and contract with my breath

the top of my belly does too.

I shift my focus to stay on the breath, to be with the body, to try and keep noticing the sounds at the same time.

I think a thought that wonders what time it is

I notice the thought is there

and remembering I’m practising mindfulness

so I simply accept its presence

and return to the breath.

I notice a thought about getting ready for the day

kids to school

lunches.

It all happens at once in my mind, hours of morning are this one moment, this one thought

and I notice again that I’m not in the present moment.

So again, I accept that a thought has come

and return to the breath and the noticing.

I do this many more times,

bringing myself back to here.

To now.

Before the person next to me wakes.

Their movements

and the change in their breath

are part of my deepening awareness.

I watch them seek me out.

Watch them reach for me.

We connect.

I feel the extra warmth from this body.

The change in pressure where our bodies are connected.

I feel their breath gracing my chin ever so often.

I keep listening to the birds

and the gentle hum of traffic.

The heater.

I hear the coffee machine come on

I notice the thought that comes with that.

I’m thinking about how the coffee machine has a timer attached to it so it turns itself on.

It’s set for 630am.

And now I know the time.

But again, thoughts.

So I come back

to the breath

and do my best

to lengthen the space inbetween.