in this quiet place

Last night and again this morning while lying in bed I was thinking about the last week - particularly, in regards to walking, being present, and meditation.

It is so incredible the changes that have come to be.

I spoke a few days ago of getting mad (irritated) three times that day and being able to step outside of it, almost as it was happening, with only a slight delay. (Like I was stepping outside myself and the situation.)

I've grumped about something three times since then. Not shouted, mind you, not pissed, not angry, just slightly-to-medium annoyed. Three times since then. That was.... a week ago. Last Monday. I've gotten slightly annoyed three times in the last week. !
One was three or four days ago, and I don't remember even what it was.
One was I think Friday night when Eric got home after work (he works nights on Friday) and Trev was still up and I was sleeping on the couch and they were talking, and woke me up, and then Trev whispered in this loud stage whisper, and I was further annoyed, and then I realized (even in my delirium) and said "I'm sorry, Bud, it's not your fault, I know you're trying to be quiet, I'm just grumpy because I want to sleep." A first for me, to be sure. I'm never sane when being woken up.
Then last night Eric woke me up (fell asleep on the couch again), asking if I wanted to wake up and go to bed, and I grumped (I was snipey then, admittedly) at him about a few things.
The funny thing about that is, I noticed even then that instead of it being something that I normally experience, it was so foreign to me. Even as I was grumping at him, I was thinking "What is this? This isn't mine!"

Yesterday when we got back from skiing I was in a bit of a slump, not angry, just didn't feel very good, for some reason.
I just sat for a minute, and breathed, and acknowledged the feelings of not well-being, and then a few minutes later it had passed. Just like that.

All of this is so amazing to me.
It's like I'm the same Me, but I'm -at least half of me- a completely different person.
Like a huge part of me, and who I have always been, has been transformed. Not into something totally different and foreign, but.... I don't know. Better. Lighter. Maybe unattached is a good description. My responses are different. My reactions. It's like their mute. That's it! It's like my reactions (which I have courted and carried my entire life, and are pretty predictable) have been muted. Like someone hits the Pause button.

How can that be?

How is it that meditation, and practicing mindfulness (whenever I remember) -which just means right now to be aware of my breathing and all of my self- can make a such a huge difference in my every day (every moment) life?

Maybe it's other things, too.

Maybe it's that I have intended this, and now I have manifested it.

Maybe it's that I am taking care of myself all the way around. I take fish oil, St John's Wort :), Green Tea capsules (I drink it, but I've started taking it, too), and a vitamin for women.
I've been walking for at least an hour most days. (love love love that.)

A few days ago I got in the mail a book and card package that I had ordered. (Ask and It Is Given are the cards, by Esther and Jerry Hicks.)
One of the cards says

"There is tremendous value when you are able to deliberately cause even the slightest improvement in the way you feel, for even in that small emotional improvement, you may have regained a measure of control. You no longer feel powerless. And so, your trek back up the Emotional Scale is now not only possible, but it is relatively easy."

That's how it began, maybe. With an intent. With deliberation and liberation. With uttering the words two months ago, "I am done with this."
Maybe with those words I caused the initial slightest improvement.

Maybe all that studying and listening and reading has finally sunk in, and I am aligning myself properly (with my thoughts and actions) with what it is that I desire to manifest for myself.

It appears that in this quiet place I am re-creating myself.
How astonishing.
And how lovely.