My Mindfulness Journey

Sitting in a café I notice the hum of voices sharing conversation. The clatter of dishes. I notice the smell of fresh coffee. The taste of my blueberry muffin. My mind races in thought, easily distracted by faces and sounds pulling my attention. I take a breath and come back to this page. Focused on the task.

Mindfulness, defined by Jon Kabat-Zinn is “awareness that arises through paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment, non-judgmentally.” Mindfulness is not about meditation, it’s not about reciting mantras on top of rock in a forest, albeit you can do that. It’s about being present. Being where your body is, right here, right now.

Beginnings

I didn’t begin my path in mindfulness with any guided direction or interest (do we ever?) Nothing jumping out at me saying “I got to do this!”  I was invited to a Zen center with a friend and her mother, and likely agreed to go in part because that’s what they were doing, and what else was I going to do? I remember doing a walking meditation. Walking silently in a circle, I don’t quite remember what I thought at the time. I was open minded and curious and suspected that there was some value but wasn’t quite sure what that was, maybe relaxation? My friend would meditate on her own, and it certainly seemed to give her a calm presence. About a year or so later with the same friend, we visited her mother who was staying at a monastery in Northern California. It was a silent retreat. We spent part of the day there and said nothing. It was awkward, but something about it intrigued me even more.  Maybe it would help me.

At the time, I was in a bit of turmoil. I was in my mid-twenties. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life other than climb and working as an instructor for Outward Bound. I didn’t feel grounded. I lived out of my car part of the year, I craved something, direction, anything. (the twenties are a ripe time for this, it’s par for the course).

The Miracle of Mindfulness

During a 30-day mountaineering and rock-climbing course that I was instructing in the Sierra of California a student lent me a book that would guide me for years: The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hanh. I was fascinated by the ideas intrenched in this book: you can practice mindfulness while doing daily activities. For example, washing dishes, sitting in your car at a red light, drinking your morning coffee. The idea was simple. You just direct your focus and attention on what you are doing. When your mind wanders, gently and compassionately direct it back to what you are doing. This included just breathing. Your breath is an anchor, it is something that we have access to all the time, theoretically. 

This concept of mindfulness was so foreign to me yet, so powerful. I painfully craved focus (likely due to an undiagnosed ADHD, Inattentive Type, previously known as attention deficit disorder.)  After the mountaineering course, and as I was headed back to Chicago to begin applying to graduate schools, I purchased audio tapes from Thich Nhat Hanh: The Art of Mindful Living  which I began listening to repeatedly as I made my way across the country.

Climber at Smith Rocks in Oregon

The Miracle

Shortly after this experience I remember climbing at Smith Rocks in Oregon. The route was just a little above my experience but not out of reach. It was a crack with a short overhang which was the crux. I led the route which meant I would put pieces of protection in just above or right where I was at so if I were to fall, I would theoretically would not hit the ground, which could be thirty to forty feet below. Above my last piece, and at the overhang I was shaking, my mind screaming at me ‘‘you’re going to fall!’

Then all was quiet.

I took a deep breath, I noticed the rock, the crack, I noticed the burning sensation in my arms, my mouth dry, but the thoughts became quiet, I saw the rock clearly, placed the piece of protection, clipped the rope, and made the move pulling myself up and over the rock outcrop.

That was a mindful moment in action.

The thoughts and sensations didn’t control me. I was present, not pushed around or hooked by the thoughts. I simply moved. I saw potential.

The Zen Coach

When I began graduate school in 1996, I had already been meditating with some regularity for at least a year. I had also began going to a Zen center infrequently and tried different forms of mindful activity that included Yoga and Tai Chi, none of which stuck. The Zen center was wild, I was told if I was drifting asleep the Zen master would come around and whack me on the shoulder with a stick. That’s one way to get you to pay attention. Not to knock it, but it wasn’t for me.

I purchased more books and tapes, notably, Wherever You Go There You Are by Jon Kabat-Zinn. Mindfulness fascinated me, I could see and feel the potential but really had no idea how to develop this skill and kept searching. At the same time, I became enthralled with the Chicago Bulls. It was hard not to. Living in Chicago my family ate, slept and breathed “Da Bulls” It was then I learned Coach Phil Jackson was teaching mindfulness to the team. How could he not?

The team seemed to personify present moment (at least when Dennis Rodman wasn’t kicking a camera man).  It was then when I really saw the connection between sport and mindfulness. How could you not play well and not have your attention completely focused on the present? It wasn’t for almost another twenty years that mindfulness was consistently brought to major sport teams, now you can’t get away from it. But the power was obvious then.

Statue of Michael Jordan in front of the United Center in Chicago.

For years after I kept a mindfulness - meditation practice up when I could, when I remembered to. I would go in spurts, a couple weeks here and there, but nothing consistently. I continued to dig into other books by Thich Nhat Hanh and read Jon Kabat-Zinn’s, Full Catastrophe Living and Shunryu Suzuki’s Zen Mind, Beginners Mind. I really wanted to take an eight-day retreat offered by UMass Center for Mindfulness hoping that would offer more guidance, but it wasn’t anything I could afford or had time for.

Headpace

It wasn’t until 2016 when I was in graduate school for Applied Sport Psychology that I became fully drawn to mindfulness again. This time picking up the Headspace App and immersing myself in daily meditations. During our program we looked at the research, read more books and came to a greater understanding of the value of mindfulness in life and sport. Michael Gervais, the Sport Psychologist at the time for The Seattle Seahawks was professing its goodness and brought on some of the master’s onto his podcast Finding Mastery including Jon Kabat-Zinn and Sharon Salzburg.  Sport Psychology conference sessions were packed standing room only when mindfulness was the topic being discussed. Amishi Jha’s book Peak Mind highlighted her research and that very first chapter notes:

“Attention is Your Superpower.”

Her research highlighted changes in the brain that occur when you practice consistently, likely around twelve-minutes a day, and notes that military special operators began utilizing her approach. I went on to take trainings in Mindful Sport Performance Enhancement and can instruct courses if I so choose, I continue to mediate at least ten minutes in the morning, fifteen when I feel I have the time. I went on to get training in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy which centers around becoming mindfully aware of our thoughts, feelings, sensations and moving and committing towards our aspirations, goals and values.

I’m not writing this to brag. There’s nothing in my mind to brag about. I’m writing this to say and show mindfulness isn’t a destination, it’s a process and a journey. It doesn’t include enlightenment (but might) and you’re bound to get frustrated.

The thoughts, images and sensations just keep coming like the weather and we can’t push them away. They’ll get louder when you practice. Some days more so. Some days it’ll be quiet.

We can just let the thoughts be.

Noticing them and redirecting our attention to where we are right now without judgement.

The mindfulness journey isn’t to a mountain top destination. Some will say there is a path, but trust me, there isn’t. You’ll wander a bit. Maybe get to take a training or go to a retreat. Your mind will likely say ‘you’re doing it wrong’ or ‘why bother.’

There is no wrong.

Take a slow deep breath. Notice the air filling up your lungs. Notice the sounds and smells around you. Come back to right here, right now, in the present moment.