If you were one of the wonderful humans who came to a Journaling for Self-Care session with me at the Pemberton & District Library this year, it won’t surprise you to hear me say that the best way to do an acknowledgement practice is with a journal. Well, it’s not “the best” way… but it is one way that can be helpful. It’s a forced pause for your mind… a chance to do a thinking face and stare into the distance… a chance to attend to yourself and ask, what is alive for me right now? What do I notice? What feels true?

I was early for a meeting the other day, and so pulled over at the Miller River bridge, with my journal and after chatting for a few delightful minutes with the fellow who was enjoying a smoke break with his dog at that spot, I went and sat by the water. He’d already invited me to notice that the water was down significantly since last week – there were no islands visible then at the peak of the melt…

And so my acknowledgement practice was simple noticing. What are the first 3 things I notice?

Cottonwood fluff ball in the air. Glimmer dance of light on the water on the far side. Shimmer-greeting of leaves of the cottonwood on the other side.

Then, the bird song became so raucous, I wondered how I hadn’t noticed that first. And I sat and tried to hear which direction the sounds were coming from and who was in conversation with who. And then my ears started trying to map what was happening where – a truck rumbled by behind me, to my lower right was the wash-riffle sound of the water moving over close rocks, wind was dancing in and out of leaves and limbs, the birds were all about.

The air felt cold off the river. It was ice yesterday, or even this morning. Yesterday’s ice-cap speeding to an inflamed ocean. (May it be medicine there.)

I noticed, too, my worry, about where I will feel nature’s air-conditioning in a week or a month, when the snow is completely gone from the mountains and the rivers are empty beds, and the land is thirsty and dusty and we’re all scowling at anyone going camping, lighting fires or dropping cigarette butts. That was there too, in the moment. Acknowledged as part of the package. Because being awake to all the things that make you feel deeply, feel present, feel love, exposes your nerve endings… exposes your heart to a shit-ton of ache. And so it is.