The Challenge of Mindful Living

As we wrap up the February Independence Challenge, I hope you’ve found it helpful to focus on doing a few things for yourself (and by yourself.) One thing I’ve really been trying to focus on this month is more becoming a more mindful person. By that, I mean being present in each moment of my life rather than taking the “big picture” perspective all the time. I mean being aware of what is without wishing it were something else. Without thinking ahead to what will be if I do one thing rather than another. That, of course, impossible to know.

I was raised by parents who had been through a lot of difficulty in their lives. Both of them had lived through the Great Depression. My father had been completely on his own since he was 15 years old. My mom lost her first child to cancer before she turned 30. The two of them lost all their savings in a bank default after my dad retired from the military. They had three children to support and no money with which to do that

None of these circumstance were things my parents had planned for, of course. So to say that I was taught to be a cautious person–to anticipate that disaster is always just around the corner–would be a huge understatement.

But that kind of self-monitoring does not lead to mindfulness. It leads to apprehensiveness. A constant state of alarm, even when the actual feeling of alarm is relatively mild.

Still, as an adult, I know I’m in charge of my responses to the world. I don’t accept that’s how I was raised as a valid reason for anyone’s opinions or actions–including my own. These are a few of the mindful living principles I’ve been trying to remember this month.

Only what’s happening right now is real.

The things we remember are colored by feelings, judgements, and missing pieces of the story. The fact that three people will remember the same event in different ways is all the proof we need of this. And none of us can know what the future will bring, no matter how much we worry about it or try to give it a particular shape.

So doing the best we can with today really is the best we can do. (If you, like me, need some help keeping yourself in the present, I highly recommend the Insight Timer app. It offers many guided meditations of different lengths, like At Home in the Moment.)

Negative thoughts have no power until you give them power.

I beat myself up on a regular basis. I’m pretty sure that I could have been a better mom when my kids were young–that any challenge they’re facing now, as adults, is the result of something I did (or didn’t do) at some point in the past. I’m also convinced that I could be a more effective teacher, a better friend and neighbor, etc.

But none of those things are actually true unless I believe they are. I can always challenge myself to find the evidence of a different truth.

You decide who you are.

Much of the beating-up that goes on in my head starts with outside sources–people who have chosen to live their lives differently from the way I live mine. Sometimes they make their judgements of me overt. Sometimes, though, I imagine those judgements altogether.

In either case, I’m the one who decides whether or not they’re right. If I’m comfortable with my own choices, any challenge to my decisions is simply that. It’s not evidence that I’ve made a mistake.

We create our own path.

As I’ve already mentioned, I was raised to be a worrier–but that doesn’t mean I have to keep walking that path. I can choose to go a different direction.

I can focus on taking concrete actions, rather than obsessing over what if questions. I can attach my feelings of accomplishment and satisfaction to getting things done, rather than the avoidance of imaginary dangers that may never have come to pass anyway.

The path we create doesn’t have to be an easy one.

We have a tendency to equate lack of challenge with happiness: if we’re really successful, we’ll eventually get to a point where worries and complications no longer exist. From here on out, it’s going to be smooth sailing.

But we might actually choose a path through the present that creates challenges. That doesn’t means we’re failing. Nor does it mean that we’ve taken on too much. Writing this blog, for instance, is a constant presence on my to-do list. I could choose to spend that time in some other way, but I don’t. I spend it here, with my computer–and with all of you–even when it’s a challenge to find that time. It’s a challenge I’ve chosen for myself.

Control is the enemy of joy.

As a professor, I struggle with this one a lot. I have a plan for each class; when the conversation starts moving away from that plan, do I wrangle it under control? Or do I give let my students direct the conversation and find joy in the fact that they’re actually engaging on their own–without my prompting?

Over and over again, I find myself challenged to give up my belief in control as the highest good. I remind myself that self-directed learners are more valuable to the world than obedient followers, and that creating something of value almost always requires making a mess. I find joy in knowing these things are true.

 

In the United States, our culture doesn’t value quiet space, sustained thought, or careful attention. Everything is focused on making life faster and easier–mostly so we can fit more activity into each 24-hour block. But I’m working hard to incorporate mindful living into my days.

Because the here and now is all we have for certain. I intend to enjoy it right now, while I’m still here.