#289: My Art of Everyday Mindfulness

I've realized as I've grown older and have had more on my plate that mindfulness really does present itself in the little things while I'm going about my day. I can actually gauge my mindfulness on my daily dog walks... specifically, (and I know this may sound silly) by how much patience I have when my dogs stop to sniff. Some days their stopping at the trees and poles and hydrants feels like foreverrr because I just want to keep moving with a fast, steady pace,  so I yank their leash more to keep them going. Which only results in my feeling bad about it after.  But I appreciate the days when I feel more present and notice the lightness in my step and thus slow the walk down a bit to fully enjoy it. And it's the best when I run into another fellow dog walker and we both pause to chat and introduce one another and our pups. I like practicing mindfulness with neighbors too, and I think they enjoy it as well.  

Thank you Corey for evoking in me a desire to take a small break and reflect here at my desk.  

- Amanda

My Art of Everyday Mindfulness

A friend once told me he noticed how I was careful with opening and closing doors — treating them with care, and aiming for quietness. It’s a thought I hold dear, because it was one of the first times I remember feeling truly seen in my adult life. He went on to wax philosophic, talking about it as “a good way to see who is practicing everyday mindfulness”. I think about this a lot.

Sometimes I notice when people pause to take in a piece of street art, or take care to set down their glass as silently as possible, or check to see if they can hold the door for someone else behind them as they leave. To me, these actions of awareness, discipline, and patience honor the art, solitude, and kindness that exist as part of our human condition. To see someone else exhibit them often reminds me of those qualities in myself, and makes me more likely to do them, too.

I notice, too, when I’m not in the flow of this space. When I let the cloud of confusion, or the anchor or anxiety take over my perception. The rough, choppy, short term mind takes over. I recognize it when I’m running late or feel I’m behind in my schedule. It's resulted in many a bloody shave, spilled coffee, or carelessly hurtful comment. These moments are still valuable to me - they ping my perception, offering a chance for a reset to relax.

 And sometimes, when I’m present to it, I have those phenomenal days when the world and I seem to dance together to the same song, as if we were one and the same.