Practicing Mindfulness, Imperfectly
I'm definitely a beginner.
I was recently listening to an interview on NPR’s Life Kit podcast with author Oliver Burkeman, whose book titled, 4,000 weeks: Time Management for Mortals, discusses the limited time we have on this earth (hence, the title) and asks us to consider how we might live our lives if we only had one remaining week.
In addition to this somewhat overwhelming question, he suggested several others. For example, “In which areas of my life am I holding back until I feel like I know what I’m doing?” The one that has gotten stuck in my mind is “In what ways do I have yet to accept I am who I am, rather than who I want to be, or feel I ought to be?”
Many of us struggle with this kind of self-acceptance for any number of reasons, including the worried thought that it may lead to complacency or lack of motivation. We then find ourselves in the bind of wanting to make a change, but unable to accept our current starting point. Experiencing acceptance of what is, while still desiring change, can be confusing.
Mindfulness is one way we can begin to move toward acceptance. We are asked to accept that the present moment exists “as is,” at the same time as we know things are in constant motion. Acceptance is not a static, passive experience, but rather a dynamic, active effort to see what is happening now, not what was, or what may possibly be.
Often we hear about mindfulness in combination with meditation, creating a “practice” of brief pauses in our hectic day to look inward, notice our breath, perhaps with the help of a meditation app on our phone. However, mindfulness can be used even as we go about our daily tasks, as long as we are able to direct our attention to our own moment-by-moment experience (i.e. not when we are trying to finish a last minute project we blew off to watch Bridgerton.)
One way I recommend individuals begin exploring mindfulness is through their senses. It can be very difficult to block out thoughts in favor of simply noticing our breath, but it may be slightly easier to refocus our attention on our sensory experience. For an imperfect example, here is a rough summary of my attempt to be mindful earlier today:
“Ok, I am going to try being mindful. Let’s do this. Am I doing it? Do I need to change the laundry? Wait, nope, here we go, brain. I’m going to let that thought move along. What am I experiencing? Ok, let’s see. I feel the soft cushion of my office chair. I smell my desk candle, mingled with a hint of peanut butter after this morning’s breakfast. I love peanut butter. Is it good for me, though? Should I be buying that natural kind that you have to refrigerate? Ok, now I’m letting these thoughts about peanut butter move past without judgement. Let’s reconnect with now. What am I hearing? Angry squirrels, chirping at each other. Probably mad that I rigged that bird feeder so they couldn’t eat all of the bird seed. Ha ha. So there, squirrels. Wait, taunting squirrels is definitely not mindful. Let me try again. Or maybe that’s enough for now. I think I want another cup of coffee.”
Clearly, I haven’t mastered mindfulness just yet. It’s not the easiest thing, living in and fully experiencing the present. But I believe in the power of this kind of thought work, both to help with anxiety, but also to boost our appreciation for this current moment in time, savoring the sensory experiences that we enjoy, and accepting what is. I strongly encourage you to give it a try today.
