Tag: Mindfulness

Being Where You Are Now

(Title image: Photo by Shantanu Kulkarni on Unsplash)

Following up on last week’s post where I wrote about the gradual effects of practicing mindfulness and meditation, I wanted to briefly focus on one aspect of this.

It has to do with the process of insulating yourself from situational stressors and the anxiety that accompanies them. These types of stressors have plagued me for a large part of my life.

I’m talking about dealing with, say, bad news that could affect my future. It used to be that an uneasy feeing would overtake me, starting in my gut. Nausea was the most prominent symptom and it would wash over me, with anxiety bulding a nest in my head. From there, my brain would promptly resuscitate the anxiety if it started to fade, like some maniacal defibrillator.

Feeling better? Too bad, time for another jolt of anxiety!
(Photo by César Badilla Miranda on Unsplash)

It was an uncomfortably electric feeling, like getting zapped over and over again.

Now, it’s a little different, and it has to do with the practice I’ve had staying present. Yes, I experience the initial jolt of anxiety, as one would expect. But as the day passes, the absolute intensity of these feelings fades more quickly. And they’re less likely to recur as strongly.

Focusing on the present moment means that your thoughts stay here. And in doing so, it’s easier to compartmentalize the feelings, keeping them further away from your face. They are still around—we are not going to make them suddenly disappear—but they are manageable and somewhat muted.

This presence in the now helps you realize that where you are in this very moment is safe. This one point in time keeps you up and out of potential future and past fears that you might otherwise get lost in. You can perch on this point like you would on the head of a pin (admittedly, this might take some imagination). And so you can hop, moment to moment, noting that things are still okay.

Again, those worries continue to circulate in the background, but they are there and not here now. And all of this gives you space to breathe.

Staying in the present is like perching on the head of a pin, a single moment in time.
(Photo by Sarah Dao on Unsplash)

Interestingly enough, one suggestion for people who are habitual ruminators is setting aside about 10 minutes every day for “worry time”. This is time that you allow yourself to go through all the concerns that you have with the understanding that once your time is up, you set aside the worries until the next day’s session.

I have personally never tried it as I’m not sure it would work with my tendencies, but it is considered an effective strategy for many.

For now, I am consistently returning to the present and compartmentalizing effectively, even bringing in some soothing stories when I need a more dramatic focus shift. Of course, this is not meant to “fool” me into thinking everything is peachy. I’m simply allowing the space I need to keep anxious thoughts from taking over.

“Worth the Wait”: Fruits of Mindfulness

(Title image: Photo by Ante Hamersmit on Unsplash)

No matter how long you’ve been practicing meditation, there generally comes a time when you begin to question whether it’s actually doing anything.

For me, it was when I was going through cancer treatment. Granted, I had only started meditating following my diagnosis, but even knowing that it wasn’t like a pill you took to calm yourself, I was kind of expecting “something”.

And I did get “something”, usually with breathwork, which was more distracting myself than anything else, but also tapping ever-so-slightly into the relaxation response.

Take a breath and notice how it feels to breathe. Then take another one. Notice. And keep going like that.
(Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash)

But the rest of the stuff? Where you focus on sensations in your body? I don’t think it really clicked for me at that time.

It wasn’t until later. And exactly how much “later” it was, I don’t know. Probably long enough that it would be hard to get someone enthusiastic about beginning a meditation practice. To really feel something definite about how my body was reacting differently? Yeah, I would say years of daily meditation. That’s not a great selling point although it does drive home the importance in consistency in practice.

But fast forward to somewhere around now. Over nine years of meditation, some days very calm and focused, other days, well, kind of a struggle to rein in my thoughts. There are a lot of stressors these days, some going as far as disrupting our hopes for the future.

Oh, that uncomfortable “WHOOSH”…that drags you away from the present.
(Photo by Daniel Dan on Unsplash)

If you’ve dealt with anxiety yourself, you may be familiar with that “whoooosh” feeling in your head, when a wave of anxiety hits you. In addition to a chill in my gut, I feel a disconnectedness, like my brain is trying to protect me by taking me out of the situation. I don’t know what to say because I’m not thinking clearly.

Recently, it hit me, however, that I don’t have that experience anymore. As a matter of fact, during a recent heavy conversation that I had been dreading, in the midst of it, I felt remarkably grounded. My words were there and accessible. My sentences were clear and meaningful. I was processing the information in real time. Not rushed, not taken by the wind.

Sure, it was stressful. I was worried about how things would turn out. But the panicky out-of-control feeling was no longer there.

I have no idea when everything changed, but likely it was bit by bit, over the weeks and months and years of practicing breathing through everything.

Experience showed me that even the worst situations can have positive outcomes. Perspective matters.

So, if you’ve ever questioned whether setting time aside every day for quiet contemplation was worth it, I can assure you, yes, it is. It might not be apparent outwardly, but be confident that behind the scenes, things are changing for the better.

Checking-In via Mindful Moments

After writing the last two weeks about things that I am not doing—such as attributing what I perceived as my own shortcomings to cancer treatment side effects or pushing myself into experiences/responsibilities that end up causing distress—I wanted to write about what I am doing.

Lately, I’ve been breaking meditation sessions into shorter, more frequent mindful chunks. Instead of a prolonged sit, I stop what I’m doing and sink into where I am, as a sort of check-in for a few minutes.

This works best for where I am now, with some anxieties about the future rising and others ebbing. There has been a lot of change. It feels like the swirling tides of the Bay of Fundy, putting me in a state where the best work I can do is to remain at an even keel while moods lift and fall all around me.

Tides rise and fall, try to bob with them.
(Photo by Stephen Walker on Unsplash)

This is how it goes: when I notice the mental waters rushing in, I pause and look around. Am I safe? Yes. Am I healthy? Yes, or if I’m fighting an illness, I check to see if I have what I need on hand. Have I been fed and watered? Yes. Is there unrest in my body? Perhaps, and I locate a point if one exists, then slowly release that tension if possible. Do I have everything I need to do my work or complete an errand? Do I know what I’m doing next? Perhaps I should jot some notes? All of this gentle questioning gives me an opportunity to settle and refocus on what is going on right now.

I stretch, as this helps me expand my chest, take a deep breath and feel what it’s like to take up space. Many of us spend our days hunched over our work, contracting inward. That’s tough on our bodies and tough on our minds. I find it really helps to reverse that body posture, which reminds us to open up and reset our perspective.

Finally, I take a moment for stillness, feeling into my entire body at once. Noticing how everything is interconnected and how I blend into my environment. Then recognizing how the ground is solid beneath my feet and how smooth everything feels: flowing time, movements of my body, thoughts in my mind.

This check-in allows me to manage upsetting thoughts and bring my attention back to where I am. Because it’s short, I can intersperse these little sessions into my day, so I’m never too far from one. If you’re feeling too restless to sit for a longer meditation, try this out and see whether it suits you.

A Trolley Meditation

(Photo by miguel pela-yo_ou_voce on Unsplash)

To be clear, this doesn’t have to be a mediation specifically for a trolley ride. It would work on a train, bus, car or any other moving vehicle. I take the trolley regularly and love how meditative the ride can be, so that’s where I use it.

While I work remotely for the majority of the week, some days I commute to my office, now further away due to our recent move. I get a ride in, but coming home means an hour on trolleys in addition to a long walk from the station.

At the time that I leave for home, the afternoon commute is in full swing. I often don’t get a seat on the first leg of my trip, so I stand, holding on to the bars interspersed throughout the car.

My height gives me a good view of the window. Now, if I allow my gaze to fuzz a bit, staring straight out into the distance, the passing landscape becomes a blur.

But this view can also serve as a beautiful way to drop into the ‘here and now’, and also train yourself to let go of the past. As the landscape passes before me, I mentally drop a “plumb line” into it, fixing my gaze every second or so on an object in the passing view, so that for a blink of an eye, my focus is maintained and follows it. Then I let it go, dropping another imaginary plumb, and I fix my gaze onto another spot on the fleeting landscape, again staying with it for about a second before releasing it and focusing on yet another point.

In the blur of constant movement, focus on the present moment.
(Photo by hannah cauhepe on Unsplash)

If the scenery very close to the trolley moves too quickly and I tire of the rapid changes, I can cast my gaze a little further away from the trolley where things are passing less frenetically.

Sometimes I switch between points closer by and those further away.

The idea is to allow yourself to let go of the point that you’re looking at, to not get captured by it. The moving vehicle, certainly, prevents that from happening to a great extent, but we also train ourselves to break the gaze and move on.

Why Is This Important?

Imagine that your day is like this: lots of stress, perhaps a lot of work, frustrating interactions with others, so much brain clutter. Can you take a big step back to observe the flow of life, understanding that annoyances comes and go, allowing them to pass by? Just as on the moving vehicle, everything passes and new views appear, so do our emotions and situations. This simple practice reminds us that when times are difficult, we can find solance in knowing that it won’t be forever.

I love this meditation. It combines a return to the present moment with letting go and moving on. What could be better?

Getting Deep: Harvard’s Meditation Research Program

(Title image: Photo by TONG KBP on Unsplash)

I was delighted to learn that there is a Meditation Research Program at Mass General Hospital, associated with Harvard Medical School. I’m sharing the link to their research in this post because it seems pretty amazing

The program is run by Dr. Matthew Sacchet, an Associate Professor in Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School. Recall that Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, at the UMass Medical School, brought mindfulness to the clinical mainstream with his Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program, which initially was designed to help patients deal with the pain and stress of illness. At Harvard/Mass General, Sacchet takes this work further by focusing on a scientific study of advanced meditative states.

My meditation takes place in informal spaces.
(Photo by bahareh moradian on Unsplash)

So, just to be clear: I am a simple meditator, with a focus on mindfulness. I revel in the grounding that it gives me when life gets stressful. It offers a sense of confidence that I can, in fact, handle the stuff that comes my way as long as I allow it to, something that hasn’t always been the case. Meditation has given me a self-awareness that slows down the world around me and makes things feel less out-of-control.

However, after almost a decade of meditation, I would not call myself an “advanced” meditator. And, yes, I’m anal enough to have never skipped a day, which, it could be argued, kind of misses the point of mindfulness. I am confident in my abilities to sit quietly but possibly need to lighten up about giving myself the grace to miss a session (trust me, I won’t).

Still, I love being able to sit in my room and feel a connection to all the other human beings around the world who are meditating at the same time. I am also acutely interested in the way that deeper states of meditation can positively affect us.

But I’m no meditating monk; my average day’s meditation generally ranges from about 10 minutes to an hour and a half, max.

On the other hand, Dr. Sacchet is studying ‘master meditators’, such as the monks in question, in an effort to explore advanced meditation, which he defines as (from the program website) “deeper engagement with meditative practices that with time and mastery, produce refined states of mind and awareness…bliss states, insights into the mind, altruistic/compassionate mindsets and ultimately, enduring transformation.“

That’s quite an impressive list. At a time when I’m clawing my way back to longer meditation sessions after a stressful year of struggling with intrusive brain noise, this provides motivation to stay on the cushion for a little longer.

Interested in more?

Here’s a link to a short quiz that appeared in the Harvard Gazette that might surprise you about what researchers like Dr. Sacchet are learning about meditation.

Below is more about Dr. Sacchet and his work from MGH Psychiatry News:

Matthew Sacchet, PhD: Advanced Meditation Alters Consciousness and Our Basic Sense of Self (Scientific American)

And here’s the link to the Scientific American article that the above site references:
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/advanced-meditation-alters-consciousness-and-our-basic-sense-of-self/

It’s 2026 and We’re Safe

(Title image: Photo by BoliviaInteligente on Unsplash)

Not going to lie, the world may seem like an unstable place. While I am happy to say that I remain cancer-free, I am facing some unexpected threats that could drastically shift my everyday life. And I know that there are readers out there with similar experiences.

Therefore, this is a great time to remind ourselves of one calming truth: at this very moment, as you are reading this post, you are safe.

You might not feel safe. There may be news you’ve received that threatens your safety. There might be thoughts in your head that make you feel unsafe. But the reality is that you are safe…right now. And…right now.

At these finite points in time, as we notice them.

Here, where you are in this moment, is safe…even when your brain says otherwise.
(Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash)

What do I mean by safe? For me personally, “I am safe” has to do with the calm reality of the present moment as contrasted with past traumas and future fears. Where you are right now, even if you don’t “feel” safe, is physically safe.

Obviously, your mileage may vary, and if you’re currently falling off a cliff then you can claim that you are not safe. But 99.999999999% of us will not be reading a blog in mid-air.

Feel into where you are in space. Notice the weight of your body and how it makes contact with the surface on which you’re resting. Objectively, where are you? Can you hear the buzzing of kitchen appliances, the chirping of birds, the people speaking outside? Reaching outward with your senses, leave the brain noise behind.

“I am safe” works as a soothing affirmation. Pair it with diaphagmatic breaths, nice deep ones into the belly (“belly breathing”) to reinforce the action of the vagus nerve in activating the parasympathetic (“rest and digest”) nervous system.

As you do this, slow everything down. I often employ the imagery of forming a “pearl” around myself and establishing a safe zone inside. Imagine that you’re blowing a bubble that surrounds you, with a slightly frosted appearance. As it forms, you can still see what taking is place outside it, but there is space between you and the rest of the world. Gone is the “in your face” feeling of rawness.

Feeling into your body is a quick way to ground yourself in what’s happening now.
(Photo by Merri J on Unsplash)

Rub your hands together and notice the sensations in your palms. Scrunch your toes and then stretch them out.

In or out, you decide. You have the option of reaching outward with your senses, or if you prefer, bringing your attention inward into your body. Or alternate between the two. Always noticing what is happening now.

The important thing here is that I’m not suggesting that nothing bad will ever happen or that what took place in the past doesn’t matter and can’t hold sway over you. Those are rose-colored views that are unrealistic and dismissive. What I *am* saying, and again, this is how I interpret this concept, is that you can check in at any given moment and notice that you are currently not in the maws of death, even if your brain is trying to convince you that you are.

Here. Grounded in this seat. You are safe.

Happy 2026!

Advent 2025: So What Did We Learn?

(Title image: Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash)

Yesterday was officially the last Sunday of Advent 2025. Today brings me closer to the end of a difficult year. Ehhh, maybe the end of a difficult eighteen months, given that my dad passed away in July of 2024 and I’ve been dodging tough stuff since then. Change is hard and there was a lot of it.

But after all that, here we are. This reminds me of those “things will turn out okay” adages. Sure, in retrospect you can look back at the maze that you picked your way through and see the clear path. But that’s not what it looks like at the start. It’s a series of twisting turns with no guarantees that you’ll get to where you hope to be by the end, and that you won’t suffer in the process.

Ahhhh, the view from the end comes with a satisfying release of stress.
(Photo by Matt Botsford on Unsplash)

No doubt, it’s much nicer being at the end point and having the luxury of saying, “yep, I survived that.” Reminds me of my last chemo infusion or radiation treatment. The hard stuff is over and now we coast to the finish line.

With the last Sunday of Advent, I finally exhale. My thrice-hourly bells (from the Plum Village app) not only remind me to take a deep breath, they make clear that in between those breaths my breathing has been shallow. The realization that I put an imaginary checkmark beside my deep breath (like, “ok, I did my duty”) but then often return to being a spaced-out mess…hmmm, that’s quite humbling.

In the context of mindfulness, we speak of “remembering” and “being awake” to this life. I spend so much time skittering around like a caffeinated squirrel on an ice rink that it seems I need to be taken by the hand and brought back to my senses. The good news is, the present is a very calming place to be because it’s uncomplicated. You only need to deal with that singular point in time that is “right now”.

So this past Advent was a reminder to myself not to get caught up in what’s coming up, not to wallow in what I should have done differently in the past but to pay attention to where I am.

Ok, What Now?

In the interest of riding the groundswell that I’ve established, I’m going to jump on a free course from Deer Park Monastery’s website called Essential Practices of Mindful Living (https://courses.deerparkmonastery.org/c/essential-practices-of-mindful-living). After pressuring myself with time-intensive certifications over the past years, this is a pleasant change. The online course is self-paced (i.e., no rush, no stress) and teaches topics with which I’m already familiar…but I’m a believer in repetition. Practice, practice, practice

So why am I talking about it now and not on New Year’s Day, as is customary? Because I’ve learned that the best time to start strengthening a habit is now. Not at some arbitrary point in the future (like a certain holiday), but right now.

Onward!

Advent 2025: Refusing Good Cheer

(Title image: Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash)

If you’re following my Advent experience, you’ll know that I had a teensy bit of trouble getting into the swing of things as far as reenergizing my mindfulness practice was concerned. But as I mentioned in my last post, the trick was regular and frequent (3x an hour) reminders to stop, take a breath and return to the present.

This strategy worked so well that these thrice-hourly breaks opened the door for gratitude to seep in. The extra-deep breath slowed everything down and made it easier to notice how “okay” things were around me.

That’s a reminder that I think we all need. So innocently, in casual conversations, I mentioned to friends how I found this Advent practice to be particularly uplifting because it allowed me some time and space, even if only a sliver, to realize there was so much good stuff going on.

And, ok, since I had such a positive experience with my deep breath and gratitude, I (gently) encouraged others to try it.

Psst! It’s that gratitude thing again.
(Photo by Thiago Rocha on Unsplash)

Well, just like unsolicited advice is wont to do, I didn’t get the greatest reaction to what I felt was simply finding light when things feel dark. Many people that I know have worries and hardships and things-to-be-angry-about, and sometimes, when difficulties abound…let’s just say that there’s not a lot of enthusiasm for making yourself feel better.

[Note: I am not suggesting “everything is 100% awesome” toxic positivity! This is about finding little things to appreciate.]

I think it’s very human to resist gratitude at times, especially when you feel you’ve been wronged and might believe that letting go of hurt and anger is like “letting the other side win”, so to speak.

But it is interesting to ponder how we can stubbornly cling to feelings of hurt and agitation if we convince ourselves that making ourselves miserable is how we further our cause. As if nurturing your discontent makes you more focused in fighting for your way. But I’m not convinced that this is beneficial; all it does is increase your stress levels, which introduces physical and emotional repercussions.

Instead, in allowing ourselves to soften and appreciate the good around us, we can lift our spirits. By calming ourselves and creating space, we think more clearly, respond more appropriately and ultimately are more productive.

There’s a lot think about this week—I am amazed at the difference that one little breath timer has made, and I’m so grateful for it.

Advent 2025: Expectation vs. Reality

(Title image: Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash)

Or, “if at first you don’t succeed…”

I had planned out my Advent to incorporate a return to peace through mindfulness after a particularly difficult year. It wasn’t supposed to be overly involved or unattainable.

As a matter of fact, I figured it would be simple to slide back into staying more present, particularly since we are heading into one of my favorite times of the year. Hourly check-ins, more dedicated meditation time, a concerted effort at staying present all day long and avoiding anxious reactivity—oh, the blissful calm that would flood my life!

Hmmm, this did not go according to plan.
(Photo by Alan Rodriguez on Unsplash)

Instead, none of that happened. I was still running up until bedtime when I’d scramble to meditate. Continuously forgot to set an hourly reminder to return to mindfulness. Found myself being yanked around emotionally. And I didn’t even unpack any of the remaining moving boxes that are sitting around the new apartment.

An entire week of Advent was gone and I felt like I frittered it away. I was expecting to feel a bit more grounded by now, but I’m not even getting a decent night’s sleep.

So, I sat down to take a look at where I ran off the road. And truthfully, I was never even on one.

I stated my intention for Advent in last week’s post…and then aimlessly wandered off into the woods.

This is a good reminder that mindfulness doesn’t happen on its own, no matter how long you’ve been practicing it. By its very definition, it requires attention.

Funny, in order to practice mindfulness, you kinda need to be mindful about it.

This time, I had a brilliant idea: why not actually DO the thing that I planned to do?
(Photo: @FranticShanti)

Enough belly-aching. I brushed myself off, hiked up my pants and did the following: I set a timer. This could have been any sort of timer, but I used the Plum Village smartphone app’s “Bell of Mindfulness” timer, set to ring (well, “bong” actually) once every 20 minutes from 8am to 8am.

It’s a low, soulful tone that rumbles through whatever else I’m doing, while at the same time not sounding intrusive.

When I hear the “bong”, I take a deep breath and notice what that feels like. Quite often, that breath turns into a deep sigh and I realize that my breath before was shallower. So I take a few more deep breaths.

That type of diaphragmatic breathing, into the belly, activates the parasympathetic (“rest and digest”) nervous system, and thereby the relaxation response.

Then I go back to my work until I hear the next “bong” and this process repeats.

By mid-afternoon, I found that I was much more aware of my breath and was breathing deeper during the interval between the bonging. And that was just the first day.

Ahhhh, this was a much better plan than my previous “no-plan” plan. Yes, I was bummed that I hadn’t implemented an actual plan a week ago, but here I am now and it’s working well.

The best part is, you can’t really “fall behind” on being mindful. Unlike where I am with my Advent cheese calendar…

Advent 2025: Turning Inward

(Title image: Photo by Waldemar Brandt on Unsplash)

Sunday, November 30 marks the start of Advent. While this is a time period associated with a Christian tradition that encompasses the four Sundays and intervening weeks preceding Christmas—and is considered a season of preparation—I believe that it’s a season that can be appreciated by all, regardless of religious beliefs.

Certainly, stores are very willing to cash in on Advent calendars, some of which are extremely elaborate and quite expensive. That’s a sad reminder that where there’s a tradition, there’s a way to make money off of it.

Yep, there’s an Advent calendar for that.
(Photo: @FranticShanti)

There are more mindful ways of treating this season. While I celebrate Advent every year, as I’ve gotten older, the way that I focus on this time of the year has changed.

It used to be common to “give something up” for Advent. As a child, it was generally sweets, so that when the Christmas holiday came around, we would enjoy desserts all the more.

However, there are more meaningful ways to spend the 3+ weeks prior to end-of-year holidays.

Instead of “giving up” something that I might simply go back to once the holidays hit, I use Advent to help me form new and important habits, or to reinforce practices that I might have allowed to slip.

This year year has been a challenging one for me. I found myself pushing meditation back to evening time, right before bed…and I’d often fall asleep before I was done.

With so many changes and stressors in my life, I have spent too much of the day running, exhausted and not paying attention to what my body and mind are feeling. So for this Advent season, I’ve decided to reacquaint the rest of my day with staying mindful and present.

We can all use a reminder to remain mindful throughout our day.
(Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash)

Therefore, my focus has turned inward. I am paying more attention to sensations in my hands and feet, starting with the physical aspects of making my morning coffee (decaf) and tea (matcha). I have set a reminder on my phone to check in at least once an hour to see where my body is in space, no matter where I am. When I do so, I consider how long it’s been since I stretched my limbs or had a drink of water. In doing so, I anchor myself in the present moment and remember that difficulties ebb and wane like the tides.

Yes, I still have a lot of take care of, and the last month brought some painful changes that I have to fully deal with. And I can’t truly “slow down” at work the way some might suggest. But mindfulness works with my schedule.

Staying present means that I can keep pace with my responsibilities instead of allow them to run roughshod over me, since it helps me avoid a sense of overwhelm. Yes, that requires discipline as my tendency is to allow myself to get swept up in the torrent of anxiety and busyness that is my life. But I remain conscious of the fact that I get done what I can, and that is enough.

For anyone who feels that this isn’t “religious” enough, I disagree. I find that experiencing the present moment may be one of the most sacred things that you can do. You honor the nature of the season by being a participant in it, not simply a passive passenger in the whoosh of activities that mindlessly steamroll us through the holidays in the New Year.

I wish you a joyous Advent season!