Sprint Into Mindfulness

At every Sangha meeting, it seems, we have a conversation about the stresses resulting from the attempt to jam a seemingly endless list of obligations and responsibilities into the confines of the 24-hour day. There are all of the things we should do, all of the things we must do, and all of things we want to do. Busyness is a problem that time-management skills can only alleviate in part.

The looming presence of busyness reminds me of an aphorism from the Greek philosopher Epicurus: “For most people, leisure is stupor, and activity frenzy.” Frenzy means to be out of one’s mind. Busyness, Epicurus would say, is mindless, robotic activity. Day to day life becomes a to-do list of tasks that must be completed and crossed off. Stupor, in contrast, indicates insensibility. Stupor describes the way, for example, some people feel after overeating at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Our awareness becomes dull, heavy, and blunted. Most people, according to Epicurus, are busily engaged in mindless activity or attempting to relax and unwind through unmindful leisure.

Epicurus has his own ideas about how we can become happy—his expression for what I would call mindful. Mindfulness is one of those words that has many definitions, but I see mindfulness, simply enough, as the moment-by-moment awareness of our bodily sensations, thoughts, feelings, and surroundings. Being present is another way some people describe mindfulness.

Mindfulness can be part of a practice, such as meditation. But it can also be found in simple, everyday actions. For example, after spending time writing a paper or studying, instead of looking at pictures of cats on Instagram or binge watching Netflix, you could take a walk through the woods down to Beaver Point. As you amble along, be mindful of the pressure of the ground under your feet, the call-and-response of the twittering birds, the distant hum of cars passing by on Lakeside Drive, the perfumed adolescence of blooming trees changing before your eyes, swollen buds bursting open into swatches of bright colors. Take notice of the way the sun flashes through the latticework of branches far overhead, and the warmth of that same sunlight touching your face and arms. Perhaps you’re walking with a friend in silence, delighting in their presence so delovely, so near, the sweet freshness of their dark hair rippling in the breeze, the melody of their laugh—all of the lovely details one can enjoy in the present moment.

Life is really a miracle—not a blur of frenzy and stupor—if only we stop and take notice.

Om shanti shanti shanti
(roughly, may you have peace in body, speech, and mind)

Dr. Steve Dawson