A row of sixty year old trees stand together in the East like old friends watching over the lives below. Spruce, still green in the middle of winter, barren oak and maple, their branches touching in the canopy. Little snow remains on the ground, left over dead leaves blanket the yard.

I sit inside our house by the large window facing east. In the grey, cloudy winter sitting by this window reminds me there is a sun visibly rising somewhere, and gives me hope for spring. The inspiring view of old trees and land prompts me to breathe deeply into the spacious quiet of early morning. Human artifacts show me we share this space with our trees. There are logs to be split stacked at the base of the old basketball hoop, the Plexiglas backboard missing one corner, the movable stand beginning to rust. A swing set for the grandchildren sits beside the homemade sandbox. It is familiar, it is home.

By the second cup of coffee, my body responds with the familiar sensations of quickening thought process, slight increase in heart rate, inner warmth insulating from the outer cold. Opening the computer to write, I am excited to explore the wonder of words, discover the exact juxtaposition and nuance to express the thoughts in my head. I am slightly addicted to the thrill and excitement of completing a blog post to my satisfaction often within minutes of the weekly deadline.

Suddenly, there is whistling of the wind through the spaces around the window. The trees outside are moving wildly, the swings twirling into each other, leaves are blowing across the lawn, sleet is striking the window. The power flickers. Save work. Unplug computer. Quickly go outside and make a one minute video of the power of the wind for the post. Power flickers again.

Outside the sleet is slapping my cheeks, I hear cracking, knocking and howling as I struggle to stand in one place against the power of the wind. The bare branches of oaks and maples are being thrown into each other, bare bark rubbing violently against bare bark. Then back inside. Power flickers again. Laptop battery low, phone battery 25%, video is lost. Laptop dies. Power goes and remains out for 46 hours.

Admittedly after a few choice words, I laugh out loud. So THIS is what happens when I write a post about introducing change into a pattern!

Mentastics Minute when comfortable patterns are interrupted:
– Pause in the moment of interruption for five seconds to notice the pattern that was interrupted. Breathe in for a count of four, out for a count of five. Take at least thirty seconds to appreciate your ability to change and adapt.