Mindfulness, Chocolate and Walking
When you think of mindfulness, what comes to mind? I recognize that’s a pun of sorts. Apologies. When someone tells us to be mindful of something, they are seeking for us to pay attention, to focus ourselves to make sure we are present for a particular event, thought, or activity. Teaching mindfulness has the same goal. We begin with paying attention to simple things, perhaps how we eat a piece of chocolate or a raisin. Bringing our awareness to how we brush our teeth or the way we step down the stairs in the morning. As we become mindful of this activity or that, we are cultivating a sense of presence that we might otherwise miss.
How often is it that you arrive to work or to the grocery store without remembering having driven there? I often think how scary that is. Where was I, if not in those moments? Even more bizarre is leaving a friend’s house with the intention to pick up some eggs and winding up at the office, or at the house. What am I doing here? Followed by: I forgot to pick up the eggs!
If mindfulness is an invitation to cultivate awareness of a particular moment, then meditation might be a practice of cultivating our attention so that we can be aware of, and present for, more moments in our lives. So we don’t have to go through the day our child graduates from school only to realize at day’s end that we had been so worried, or absorbed in a trying to solve a problem, that we missed it. Oh yes, we were physically present, but mentally and emotionally… we were somewhere else.
There are many different kinds of mindfulness and meditation practices. Sometimes the two overlap. Together they serve to bring us into relationship with ourselves more fully. As we place our awareness on our breath, or on a word or concept that is valuable to us, like peace, wholeness, trust or honesty, we begin to slow down the busy energy of our lives, and come to connect more fully to our sacred selves, what some people might call getting closer to God’s presence in our lives.
Recently I completed teaching a 20-week mindfulness and meditation course to a group of psychotherapists who work with children. While there was interest on the behalf of the practitioners to use these tools for their clients, I let them know that the course was first and foremost for themselves. As they would discover tools and use them in their own practice, they would come to understand them. As these practices would become part of their own daily lives, they would experience their effect over time. They might see themselves behaving differently with their clients – and friends and family, too – as a result, perhaps with more patience or more compassion, or simply being more fully in those moments with others. Only after embodying the practice would it make sense to begin to think about how to offer it to others.
We explored a number of practices throughout the course. We did indeed eat a raisin and a piece of chocolate, and some chose to do a homework assignment of bringing their awareness to brushing their teeth. These were our takeoff assignments.
Over the weeks the practices grew and evolved. We learned how to focus our attention on our breath – not doing anything to the breath, but simply noticing it flowing in and out. For some, sitting still for this exercise for even 2-3 minutes is a challenge. At some point, however, it becomes a comfort. Bringing fresh oxygenated blood into our systems one breath at a time is healing, enlivening, and just plain feels good.
Over time we expanded our focus to our bodies from head to toe, noticing how they feel, how they move in space, or listening closely to the sounds around us.
In our last session spring had sprung and we took advantage of the beautiful weather to do an outdoor walking meditation. In this practice, we walk ten or twenty paces and turn around, back and forth. As we slowly walk, we pay attention to our breath, to our feet as they step, lift and step again, taking time to sense our experience. The description of this might seem odd, but the practice of it is very centering. We may discover how much tension we hold in our bodies, or that we want to rush the walk. We may find ourselves struggling with balance as we shift our weight from one foot to the other. Perhaps these are metaphors of how we “walk in the world.” I can say that in spite of its odd-sounding nature, most of the feedback I got on this practice was, “I want to do more of this!”
It was a real treat to work with these eight staff members, each of whom reaches out to serve children with all kinds of needs in our community. I was touched and honored to have provided this training and to get to know each of them personally, cultivating deep relationships both one-on-one and as a group. They have shared with me how the course has touched their lives in a meaningful way. As a result, it will naturally ripple out to those in their lives, both in and out of the office.
Should you, your family, organization or your place of business be interested in a mindfulness meditation program – from a one-day training to a full course, please let us know. We would love to tailor a learning program based on your needs. As our participants shared, “It was an inspiration!” “I am grateful for the course and think it will continue to be an essential part of my life.”
We look forward to providing you the tools to have similar results in your life.
May your day be filled with the awareness that mindfulness can bring.
Blessings,
Rabbi Robin Damsky