Mindfulness

austin-neill-ZahNAl_Ic3o-unsplash

Debbie wrote about the difficulty of mindfulness. “I’m more inclined to always think about what’s next, what’s tomorrow or the next day.”

Mindfulness (noun): a mental state achieved by focusing one’s awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one’s feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique.

Debbie made me think about my own relationship with the present. Am I mindful? I rarely think about the future. I rarely think about later today. A conversation Susan and I have every weekend:

“Do you have anything planned for today?”

“I’d like to go running.”

“What time?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see how the day unfolds.”

Possibly, I just don’t plan. I take my days as they come. And then I get pissed that I never get anything done.

Because I don’t think about the future, I live my life in the present. But not mindfully, reactively instead. Rather than observing the present and rolling with it, the present happens to me and I combat it. I grab it or I push it away. I never just accept it.

This is what I thought about as I read Debbie’s mindfulness post. My aha moment. Eureka! By Jove, I’ve got it!  One of those rare instances when I suddenly understand something new about myself.

Mindfulness isn’t about living in the present moment. It’s about being present. Running might be the only time I’m mindful. All runs are good runs. The pleasure, the pain, ease and distress. I always accept what’s happening to me when I run. Of course, easy runs—those times I nail it—are always more enjoyable.

Yesterday, I went out for a run. When I got home from work, my family announced that our dinner plan was Dairy Queen Blizzard Cake. Early in the quarantine, my fitness level peaked. I exercised daily, often twice a day. I felt thin and strong, deserving of the nightly desserts my wife and kids kept baking. Over the past two weeks, I backed off exercise. Work heated up. The weather faltered. I might be a little depressed. Whatever, I haven’t exercised enough to keep up with my eating. Ice cream cake! Yes, I went out for a run.

There was nothing enjoyable about yesterday’s run. Cold and windy. WINDY. At one point I saw a hawk trying to fly across a field. He looked like a runner on a treadmill. Wings flapping furiously, he made no forward progress at all. Eventually, he angled up into the gale, did a barrel roll and floated away downwind, out of sight.

With a mile to go, Susan pulled up in our car. “Sophie and I tried to go for a bike ride. We almost blew off our bikes. I thought you might want to bail.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” I wasn’t. Miserable was the correct word for it. But also present. I was in the run. I accepted the discomfort. I didn’t fight it. To paraphrase the Buddha (as a runner): “Tailwind, Headwind, no difference.” Each is something to experience… without judgement. When I walked in the house I said “Well, that sucked.” But it didn’t. Hard, but rewarding. I ate two pieces of cake.

After reading Debbie’s post. I know my next step. Allow life to happen to me. Judging the experience, fighting the inevitable, doesn’t make it easier. If I accept, if I simply ‘be,’ at least I’ll feel relaxed. I let Debbie know what a huge revelation her post created. I hope she found some pride in positively changing my perception.

Photo by Austin Neill on Unsplash

21 thoughts on “Mindfulness

  1. I’m glad that you found my post helpful. So many points in this post but understanding something new about myself is also rare for me. That’s probably why it took me so long to write the last two posts! “Tailwind, Headwind, no difference.” That’s a hard place to reach I think, but love that. I’m like you and the hawk, hate that wind. I bailed on walking yesterday, imagining my body blowing away. That’s a laugh. Have a good day.

    Liked by 1 person

    • The wind has been pretty nutty for the last couple of weeks. For a few years, running wise, I was able to settle into the mantra of uphill/downhill, same thing. That’s kind of gone away. It would be nice if it came back.

      Like

  2. Glad the post helped you so much. It’s helped me a lot too. I’ve been trying to get more running miles in as I am finding my runs more challenging when they shouldn’t be. I still get to do my gym class too. Regardless I’m feeling a bit pudgier with all extra eating going down here!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. That “ah ha!” moment (when you realize that mindfulness means being present) is SO damned obvious, innit? I mean, it was for me. And isn’t that crazy? Something so “obvious,” so “simple,” is always so profound.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Yes, I’m also most “in the moment” when I’m running. It’s why I love it so much.

    Any sort of movement – hiking, walking, xc skiing – where I can feel my breathing puts me in that zone, but running does so more efficiently and effectively.

    Love the paragraph about the hawk.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I think mindfulness or being present is something we need to keep rediscovering in ourselves. We tend to forget important things and learning something once doesn’t seem to make it sink in.
    I made an orange tart yesterday. I felt present in the process in snatched moments and noticed my depression lifting slightly. Today we had leftovers.
    I too loved the hawk description.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Oh, yes, Jeff! I love your conclusion about mindfulness. I think I am mostly the way you describe yourself – I don’t usually have a plan but I am reactive to the present. My middle son and his wife are the most intentional people I know. They inspire me to be a better person – to be present, conscious about my actions, thinking about what I am doing. They remind me of the hawk in your story. I am the runner out there fighting against the wind. I gotta do better!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Fortunately for me, Susan is a student of mindfulness, so the topic is never far from my thoughts. In truth, I’ve improved exponentially over the past ten years, but I still have a long way to go.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s