Category Archives: mindfulness

Are You Savoring or Rushing?


A few months ago, I visited my friend Anni at  her fabulous bed and breakfast in Barbados.  Her inn is renowned for her sumptuous three-course gourmet breakfasts.  During my visit, her right arm, the dominant one, was in a cast.  Most mornings, her helpers, steeped in true island spirit (or maybe a little  too much rum the night before), came late or didn’t show up at all.

I joined her in the kitchen at six every morning to help her prepare breakfast for her guests, but she wanted none of my help.  She sat me at an open window with a cup of fresh coffee and some crackers to feed the birds perching on the sill.

Mesmerized, I watched her literally single-handedly prepare an elegant feast for six or eight people, with care, with grace, and without rushing.  While her cast iron pans warmed up, she set out her beautiful serving dishes, and chopped and sliced with precision.  She stood quietly before her giant gas stove, in constant but deliberate motion.  Soon, the counters overflowed with pancakes, eggs, fruits, breads, sauces, and puddings.  She carefully arranged everything, garnished the plates with sprigs of herbs and fresh tropical flowers, and only then allowed me to assist her by carrying the steaming dishes of edible art to the dining room.

It was an inspiration to watch.  I told her that watching her cook was like observing a moving mediation.

Since then, I’ve tried to savor food preparation and cooking.  The old me flew into the kitchen and tried to get things done as quickly as possible.   It wasn’t much fun.

As I practice what I learned from Anni, my kitchen is a happier place. I play music, stay in the moment as much as I can, and even take a look outside as I work, allowing myself to enjoy the vibrant tropical foliage just inches from my fingertips. I think my cooking has improved, too.  It tastes more like love.

And you?  Is there a place in your life that could use less rushing and more savoring?  Here are a few hints that might help:

1.  Set an intention. Before you start, remind yourself that you intend to slow down and that you want the process to be as enjoyable as the destination.

2.  Breathe. Some slow gentle breaths signal our nervous systems to re-regulate and to regain a natural pattern of speeding and slowing.  When our physiology matches our intentions, we have a much better opportunity to enjoy the experience.

3.  Align your thoughts with your actions. Let thoughts of other things go for now.  You can come back to them later.

4.  Feed your senses. Use your beautiful mixing bowls instead of the scratched up plastic ones.  Put on your favorite music and then listen to it. Smell your surroundings, and if there isn’t a smell, add one you love.

5.  Bring mindfulness into your task. Allow yourself to be aware of what you are doing, as you are doing it.  Feel your knives in your hands, your fingertips on the keyboard, your hands in the garden gloves.  Notice your feet in your shoes and how they contact the ground.  Observe what you are doing.  Watch the magic of the sharp knife as it shreds celery. Look at the water from your shower as it falls, and feel it touch your skin.

6.  Allow yourself to play. Approach your project like a small child who is learning to put clothespins into a bucket.  Don’t get hung up on judging your efforts or comparing yourself to others.  Simply notice what you are doing, stay curious, and remain open to let things happen.

So give these tips a try.  See which ones work best for you, and which tasks or projects you can try them with.

There’s a lot to be savored in our lives, wherever we are.  Let’s not miss it by hurrying to get to the end.


There’s no wrong way to practice mindfulness

There’s no wrong way to practice mindfulness.
It’s impossible.
You either do it or don’t do it.
But you can’t do it wrong
Because it’s not about right and wrong.

It’s not about sitting still,
It’s about letting something inside get still.

It’s about attention and where it goes.

So go ahead and walk, move, do something,
Something that doesn’t need thinking.

And don’t be fooled.

Don’t think you don’t think when you’re mindful.
You’ll think.
You’re a human and humans think.
That’s why we practice.
To notice that we are such great, grand, relentless thinkers.

It goes like this: you’re following your breath, just like you’re supposed to.
And next thing you know, you’re thinking.
It happens. A lot.

Don’t get on your case.
Just notice.

As a noticer, you notice that you can always notice your thoughts instead of engaging with them.
{Except, of course, when you can’t. Or don’t.}

And then, the magic comes.

Sometimes you notice a tiny clear voice inside.
It sounds different from the usual voice, the one that’s there distracting you.
It’s different because it’s the voice of Truth, and it has no agenda.
It simply whispers in your ear and something inside you goes Ping! and that’s really cool.

But then there’s that other voice. The Nag. The Worrier. The Scold.

Be gentle with her.
When a thought about a problem comes up, gently tell yourself you can solve it later.
When a thought about something interesting comes up, promise yourself that you can daydream about the new shoes you want later.
{Be sure to keep your promise.  Daydreams are important.}
When a thought about something ordinary comes up, remind yourself that you can make the grocery list later.

Remind yourself that you are a noticer, an observer,
A scientist in a white lab coat observing microorganisms dance on a slide.
You are the Scientist of You.
You with the urgent, interesting, enticing, dancing thoughts.

When those thoughts get harsh,
Remind yourself that you are not your thoughts.
You are flesh and blood and hair and guts and spirit and energy,
And heart.
That’s what you are.
You are not your thoughts.  Listen again.
You are not your thoughts.

And if you notice you don’t want to go back to your breath, then
Notice your resistance.
Observe it with the curiosity of a child watching a bug crawl on a leaf.
Notice what color your resistance is and how it speaks to you.
Is it scratchy or smooth, fast or slow, high or low?
Does your resistance come in words, images, feelings?
Notice that your resistance, too, is just a thought.
And an I-don’t-want-to temper tantrum of a thought is still a thought, just like the other ones.
The ones that tempt you with visions of dinner.
The ones that rerun crappy conversations a million times and tell you that you have to do something about this RIGHT THIS MINUTE.
{Isn’t that funny?  What’s the big hurry?}

So go ahead and resist with your wholehearted approval.
Because there’s no wrong way be mindful.