Every now and then I like to grab a book at random from my shelves and set it somewhere that I can spontaneously pick it up and read a paragraph or two.
It was a piece of good fortune that the one I’d pulled out this week was Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Arriving at Your Own Door. Its subtitle is “105 Lessons in Mindfulness”.
It’s simply a wonderful little book. Each 5” x 5” page is one small lesson printed atop a gentle green design that looks like a veined leaf.
In Lesson One, mindfulness is described as “a way of befriending ourselves and our experience.” Then it goes on to say, “Of course, our experience is vast, and includes our own body, our mind, our heart, and the entire world.”
The remainder of the book simply guides you past the obstacles that stand between you and that friendly relationship with yourself and all that you experience.
I opened to Lesson 24 one day this week. It’s titled “Autopilot.” Oh yeah, I thought. Been there done that. Like over and over and over. Here’s the whole lesson:
“Paying attention is something we do so selectively and haphazardly that we often don’t see what is right in front of our eyes or even hear sounds that are being carried to us through the air and are clearly entering our ears. The same can be said for our other senses as well. Perhaps you’ve noticed.”
Noticed! Ha ha! Now that you mention it, I haven’t really noticed. But now that you did mention it, let me turn on my scanner and see what’s going on. So I did. And it soothed and delighted me.
Of course it’s not possible to stay there, paying attention to all the experiences that your senses and thoughts and emotions are providing to you. And if you decided that staying aware is some goal, that being mindful is a measure of achievement of some kind, you can get grumpy with yourself for forgetting to pay attention to what was hiding in the huge swaths of time that you forget.
But if you read on, you’ll come to Lesson 59, “Acceptance and Compassion,” where you’ll be reminded to be kind to yourself.
“Gentleness,” this lesson counsels, “is not a luxury, but a critical requirement for coming to our senses.”
Read that again; it’s important. What it’s reminding us is that we can’t be open to the gifts of our senses while we’re beating ourselves up or ranting about how things should be different than they are.
To learn to let go when you’re all riled up is no easy task. But catching yourself being riled up is a fine first step.
Sometimes, when you notice that being riled up is what’s going on, you might find that you can even laugh at yourself. The very act of noticing changes everything. That’s what it’s all about.
As I went through the week, the lessons unfolded, and I remembered to practice paying attention more and more.
I’m so glad that I did. Otherwise, I might have missed seeing the way the freshly fallen snow glistened in the sunlight or hearing the adorable greetings of the chickadees as I put out their breakfast of sunflower seeds.
I would have taken for granted the fragrance of frying bacon, or the warmth my furnace was providing. I wouldn’t have appreciated the way my car started despite the day’s cold, or how amazing it was that someone had invented windshield wipers, that engineers figured out exactly how to make them work.
I might have missed out on whole slices of wonder and gratitude for all the miracles happening around me. Every day. All the time.
So I’m wishing you a week where a little voice sometimes whispers to you, “Psst – Pay attention!”
Listen to it. You’ll be glad, too.
Warmly,
Susan