Mindfulness by numbers (and colours)

I have the artistic ability of a primary school child. This short coming in the doodling department is constantly exposed by my young daughter and her myriad requests for me to draw different animals. They all end up looking equally vague in regard to what they are meant to be – a sort of rogues gallery of evolutionary stages that didn’t quite make the grade to survive. Colouring in and managing to stay within the lines was, it turned out, the nadir of my artistic achievements. As we grow older we put childish things away so this meant that the joys of scribbling, colouring and doodling were lost to me. Until recently, if an adult had told me that they spent their spare time colouring in pre-drawn black and white pictures I’d have wondered if they were suffering from head trauma.

That was until recently when a good friend bought me “The Mindful Colouring Book”. My friends’ reaction to my embracing of mindfulness has been mixed over the years, ranging from indulgent scepticism to quizzical interest and it was in this spirit that the book was bought. I have to admit, while touched I was sceptical. The voice in my head saying “this is not mindfulness, this is the sort of thing that will make it easy for the doubters to sneer at”. I was both right and wrong.

The sneerers will sneer, especially when given something so seemingly easy to laugh at, but like so much of mindfulness, you dismiss it at quite a cost. Like all meditative practices, the mindfulness colouring book is an engrossing, experiential practice, one that combines mindful awareness, breathing and movement in a simple to do task (even for someone as artistically challenged as me). More than easy it’s really fun. Once I got past the bit of my mind recoiling at the idea of doing something we have label as “childish” I quickly found myself really enjoying the experience. The doing mode of mind was questioning “is this really mindfulness” but I let this go and immersed myself in the feel of the pencil, the sound of the it on the page and the sense of fulfilment and satisfaction as I filled the page with colour.

For those still doubting its mindful efficacy, simply colouring in – much like focusing on the breath – quickly exposed the endless undercurrent of chatter that is the doing mind. I could feel competitiveness in wanting to finish it quickly and well. I noticed thoughts about making sure I used the “correct” colours to ensure that it looked “good”. I could only imagine the looks of dumbfounded incomprehension if my colleagues (and perhaps even friends and family!) could see what I was doing.....a man approaching his 40s lying on the floor colouring in a picture of spirals and whirls. And, much like in mindfulness of breath, I was able to watch all of this and let it go and really enjoy 10 minutes of unadulterated experiential joy. I may even have had my tongue stuck out to the side in the stereotype of childlike concentration.

I didn't care and, I believe, neither would you if you actually gave it a try.

This is why I meditate

Mindfulness practice is something that we are not supposed to measure.  There’s no right, no wrong.  You can’t be “good” or “bad” at it, you are just in the moment or you’re not.  You begin, again and again, not in order to achieve a special state, but just to be exactly as you are right now.  I repeatedly use these terms when guiding practice and as best I can I do try to live by this idea of non-attachment and non-striving.

However, it will inevitably get the better of us.  We all have that doing mind that wants to know if this is “working” or bringing some tangible benefit.  This is quite natural.  After all, regular mindfulness meditation practice demands a radical shift in perspective and lifestyle as we repeatedly find time in our busy schedules to sit and be.  The question of “why do I do this?” will inevitably arise.  So for today, I’m going to indulge myself for a few moments and reflect on a profound change in my attitude that occurred to me whilst practicing:

“I take myself and my life way less seriously than I used to”. 

Is that it?  That’s the big change that makes all this sitting worthwhile?!? Well, yes.  Hidden in that phrase “I take myself less seriously” is the development of an attitude that embraces self-compassion, acceptance and a willingness to be imperfect and to fail.  It doesn’t mean resignation or not trying to achieve goals – it just lets us off the hook of not being allowed to fail.

This is the greatest gift that anyone could’ve given me and it arose spontaneously through my personal meditative practice, although I must emphasise the slowness of this change.  There was no “a-ha” moment or sudden flash of realisation.  This atttude was built imperceptibly, like the very slow flowing of grains of sand from one locale to another until a small mound of change in attitude is visible.

The great thing about mindfulness practice is that compassion, both towards other but crucially towards the self, develops naturally.  It is this resource that allows one to have self-belief and self-acceptance without reference or in comparison to others.  This means that your self worth is a lot more stable as it does not rely on competing or striving with an “other”, be they real or imagined (we all have that invisible ideal that drivers us endlessly whilst punishing us for not reaching impossible levels or goals we set and re-set).  Kristin Neff has some excellent work on this very subject, all of which is accessible, inspiring and reliable.  She points to the idea that self-compassion is obtainable and better for us as we do not need to see ourselves only in relation to the achievements or lack thereof of others. 

This compassion allows me to be imperfect, allows me to fail and to accept the “mud” that is part of my existence and this is why I take my life less seriously.  A perfect example came to me recently when teaching a group, several of whom really did not want to be practicing any kind of meditation.  During my talk I could see several people rolling their eyes and giggling amongst themselves.  I could also overhear disparaging comments about mindfulness and myself in their group discussions.  Previously this would’ve triggered my insecurities about not being good enough.  I would’ve either closed down or perhaps even become verbally belligerent, trying to win through force of knowledge and intellect.  Surprisingly I actually found their reaction amusing.  I could recall how at an earlier point in my life I too would’ve been the sceptic dismissing the idea of meditation as a valid practice.  Rather than rile me I actually was able to take it in good humour and most importantly, I didn't feel the need to assert my opinion or worth to others in order to feel comfortable. 

This, I believe, is because of the way I have shifted my perspective on myself, what I do and, crucially, what I need to be in order to be accepted.  I still “stumble”.  I still regularly find the old habits of wanting to do things right so other people will accept me rearing their head but they have less impact and I’m able to be me – warts and all – with a much higher level of comfort.

As Thich Nhat Hahn says: “To be beautiful means to be yourself.  You don’t need to be accepted by others.  You need to be yourself”.  Being myself is something I am now happy to be.

Tougher than it Sounds

"Well, that's just sitting on a cushion isn't it? Just common sense. Anyone can do that. Why would we need to employ someone to do that?"

These are the words of a senior manager I spoke to about adopting a mindfulness meditation as part the company's wellness programme. I had been asked to suggest cost-effective and innovative approaches for dealing with employee stress at a time when staff morale was low and staff sickness was rising monthly. I was taken aback by the dismissive response. I had couched the pitch in modern language, had presented empirical research findings of the efficacy of mindfulness for reducing stress in the workplace and had finished by listing a number of large corporations who use mindfulness for similar ends. I had not expected it to be an easy sell and I thought I had prepared for the inevitable scepticism with enough scientific evidence to satisfy the most cynical of individuals, but alas no.

Why such a response? Mindfulness, it would seem, is everywhere at the moment. Articles abound in the serious press, it is featured on the BBC, both on television and radio and there are endless documentaries and talks on the likes of Ted and YouTube. It permeates the mainstream to such a degree that it has even been lampooned on the latest series of gangster comedy-drama "Lillyhammer". Surely then people must know what mindfulness is and understand it?

Well, in my experience, not really. The TV ribbing and the attitude of the manager quoted above point to a wider problem that mindfulness faces. In reality many people may have heard of it but do not understand it, seeing it as easy, self-indulgent and a perfect target for satire. And this is the crux of the misunderstanding. It often boils down (once you get past the scepticism, references to hippies and the other such off-target clichés) the fact that people do not understand how difficult "just sitting on a cushion" can be and what the mind will do when one attempts to do this.

Not convinced? Still scratching your head and thinking "really, what can be so difficult?" Just try this little experiment - it will only take a minute.

Find a quiet place where you won't be disturbed. Take a seat, preferably on a cushion on the floor, but for now any surface that will bear your weight will suffice. If possible (unless you have back problems) ensure that you are seated away from any back support so that your spine is self-supporting. Close your eyes, and for a minute just concentrate on the breath as it enters and leaves your body. For a whole minute just focus with a sense of curiosity on the breath alone, simply coming and going...........not as easy as it sounds is it? Within seconds you probably noticed that the mind wanted to do anything but stay focused on the breath. There is nothing wrong here, this is what minds do. You are not failing or being rubbish at meditation, you are just being introduced to how difficult it actually is to let the mind rest without the need to do something, to search for distraction, to fill ever second with something that is not what is happening in this very second.
It is being alone with ourselves in the present that we are uncomfortable with.

Why would we be? Our whole culture is geared towards constant entertainment, striving, games, phones, food, stuff, stuff and stuff. You're a long time dead they say, but without stopping to pause you will miss many of the actual moments of the one life you get, the one life you are living. It can be uncomfortable stopping and getting to know the workings of our mind. We may need to confront fears and difficulties we have ignored and buried under a plethora of thinking and, well, stuff but speaking from personal experience, the positives far outweigh the negatives.