Getting The Hang of Mindfulness…Slowly but Surely

by Susan Shea

I have been a “casual student” of mindfulness for more than 20 years now. Initially I was seeking relief from the stress of being a new college graduate who did not know what to do next. I had been in school for so many years that I felt lost without the structure that school provided.

I started to search for something to keep me emotionally anchored while I tried to adjust to my new identity as a working adult. I only knew how to be a student, so I worked with what I knew best and I began reading books on how to cope with transitions, stress and uncertainty. I began listening to guided imageries on cassette tapes. I read a little bit of everything on relaxation and stress management and then discovered the work of Jon Kabat-Zinn.

As my career got underway and I began to work with people who had mental health and substance abuse histories, I began to bring my experience with relaxation into my work life. I found that I was better at helping other people relax than relaxing myself. I was seeking a way to handle the ups and downs that I knew were inevitable in life. One of my favorite quotes is from Dr. Kabat Zinn comparing life to surfing. “Riding the waves” when the waters got rough. I carry that image in my mind when I feel my life starting to rock a bit.

I’ve recently turned 50. It’s still hard to hear myself say that. Shortly after my birthday I suddenly hit a rough patch with my health. It’s been a bit of a shock for me because I think I’ve become overconfident about my health. I have assumed my body can always keep up with things, that I can overwork it and neglect it and it will still be ok. I tell everyone else to take care of themselves. I tell people to find ways to slow down and breath. Meditate. Relax. Do yoga. I cannot tell you how much I’ve given that sort of advice over the years. And I was very sincere about it and I still think I’m right about it. But….do I follow that advice? Of course not.

Oh I had the best intentions. I did buy a mindfulness workbook and a meditation cushion. I started a yoga program. I have tried practicing at bedtime to fall asleep. I’ve tried practicing in the morning. I’ve even been known to stretch out on a mat on my office floor between clients. I have tried so hard to get it right. I would get so frustrated with myself for not being able to breathe right, or to stop my thoughts. Sometimes I’d fall asleep, which also felt like a failure. Then I’d tell myself I’m not supposed to try, I’m supposed to just notice where my mind goes and gently bring it back. But time and again, I could not do it.
To this day, despite so many years of reading, trying and telling other people they should do it, I still feel that I am not someone who has ever achieved a true mindfulness practice and I know why. Because I’m a planner. I like lists and schedules and structure. I am a rule follower and I am very conscientious. I am someone who wants a program to follow and I want to take a test to see if I am doing it right. It matters to me that I do it right. I set goals to do it, I try to do it, I plan to do it, I seek something from it, I try to measure it. But I never just do it. It’s almost as if I need a backdoor to mindfulness. I need to almost trick myself into it.

It recently occurred to me one day when I was cuddling my 4 year old Maltipoo, Daisy, that when I hold her, as I try to help her relax, I start to relax. I watch her eyes close. I feel her breathing getting deeper, more rhythmic and eventually I feel her get heavy. Her legs dangle off to either side, her pink belly exposed. She may twitch or snort…she just lets go completely. And after a few minutes, I realize that as I pay attention to how relaxed she is, I stopped thinking about all the things that have been swirling in my mind. I stopped making mental lists of what I should be doing. I am not thinking about what went wrong yesterday, or who died last year…or what might happen six months from now. I just am in that moment, holding my Daisy, hearing her breath, feeling her warmth, noticing how heavy she feels on me and every change in her body as she sleeps. I am looking at her eyelashes and the pads on her feet. I even notice how my breath makes her rise up and down. I notice the little white hairs on her and I play with them.

And then it dawned on me……what I was experiencing was essentially a mindful moment! I was so excited I wanted to jump up and yell: “I did it, I did it!” That thing I’d been trying for so many years to figure out with all the books, tapes, cds and yoga mats and special cushions…..all I had to do was hold my dog. Is Daisy my new prop? Well yes, maybe she is, but as I say to my clients, “Do whatever works, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.” I enjoy holding Daisy and she enjoys being held. No harm there.

All these years, my search for mindfulness has felt a lot like trying to pick up a noodle with a spoon. I can spend all day chasing it and all it leaves me is frustrated. Mindfulness, I’ve finally realized, is about just being in one moment at a time, just as it is, without any plan, goal or intention. Once I start to TRY to do anything, then I’ve stepped out of mindfulness.

Since this moment with Daisy, I’ve noticed similar moments in other situations. Last night I walked some trash out to the curb and it was mild and wet outside. There were Christmas lights on the tree I walked by on the way to the curb and for a brief moment…I just felt the air, the drops of rain and noticed the lights beside me and it all just felt so good. I just drank it in. It only lasted a few seconds, but I was fully aware of those few seconds and enjoyed them so thoroughly that I’m still thinking of them today.

When I look back now I realize I’ve had many mindful moments in the past 20 years, but I never recognized them as such. I was making it too complicated. I remember holding my daughter in the rocking chair in her room so many nights. Just staring at her and at her fingers and her feet…and just sitting in the dark with her. I’ve experienced it listening to music. No lyrics, just instruments weaving in and out and up and down, stringing sounds together to make a melody that is pleasing to my ear and makes me feel like I’m rising and falling with the notes. There are those moments that may last only a few seconds where something just feels good. Period. Nothing more complicated than that…a moment that absorbs you and you don’t notice anything else around you. Those are my mindful moments.

More importantly, I’ve realized mindful moments don’t have to be a particular length of time. I don’t have to have a 45 minute long mindful moment. Those moments last for as long as they last. Could be a few seconds, a few minutes, or maybe more. I am learning to take them for what they are and appreciate them, enjoy them and when they end, let them go. There will be more. That requires some trust on my part to believe there will always be more.
And sure enough, the less I try to force those moments, the less I try to hold onto them, the more of them I notice. I had them all along…I just was not letting myself enjoy them. I did not think those moments “counted” because they did not happen while seated on my special cushion in my special spot, with my special music, for the right amount of time.

The other night I decided to stop worrying about my health for awhile. I can’t fix it right now. I can’t control it and I can’t predict what is coming. I went down to the basement to do laundry. I poured some detergent into the measuring cup and I watched the thick, dark blue liquid pour slowly into the machine and realized that even that moment was comforting. To do something “normal” and routine is so grounding at times that even day to day tasks can become soothing. I was not worrying, planning or making lists in my head….I was not even thinking about the next step…I was just in my moment. That, for me, is mindfulness.