I spent the Memorial Day weekend with my family, as is our usual tradition, given that we all live far apart, and it’s much harder these days to get together on a regular basis. That time has become even more precious to me now that I have two nieces, ages three and five, who light up a room and constantly make us laugh, as kids that age often do.
I had gone up to my old room to grab something one afternoon, and my five year old niece followed me up and proceeded to examine every object in my room, stating very confidently, “I know what I like in here.” She stopped at an old Disney snowglobe of my own from childhood, which showcased numerous aspects of “Beauty and the Beast”, “The Little Mermaid”, and “Cinderella.” I brought the snow globe down off the shelf and on to the desk at eye level for her, at which point she began noting every little intricate detail of the design. She expressed awe and wonder at the tiny roses embedded into the design, the way in which the waves of water curled up and out, and the delicate wand of Cinderella’s fairy godmother. In addition to her attention, awe, and wonder, my niece also began creating stories around the design of the snowglobe. The entire design was created on top of a book, so she began telling me how the book was going to close and trap everyone inside, but that they would all work together to make their way back out of the book. Her dialogue continued for a full thirty minutes. When I introduce the topic of mindfulness to my clients, I’m often met with confusion and misunderstanding. Mindfulness is about ridding your mind of all thoughts, right? Or being able to stop your thoughts? I’m not exactly sure how those ideas and beliefs came to be so popular and ingrained, but the actual, simplified definition of mindfulness, coined by Jon Kabat-Zinn, is “nonjudgmental awareness.” Mindfulness is exactly what my niece was doing as she noted every detail of that snowglobe. She wasn’t thinking about what she was going to do next, or what other people were doing, or what she was going to have for dinner that night. She just noticed the present moment of that snowglobe. She also wasn’t judging the snowglobe, despite the fact that Prince Charming’s head had broken off at some point. She just neatly tucked the severed head into a crevice to ensure that it wouldn’t become lost. There was no criticism of the design, or the colors, or the broken aspects. Just observation and awareness. She just noticed. That is mindfulness through and through. We struggle so much to understand this as adults, because we’re trained NOT to be mindful. We’re taught to have notifications on our phone that go off every five minutes and pull our attention away from whatever we’re doing. We’re expected to be on chat systems at work, through which our colleagues or bosses can reach us (aka interrupt us) at any point during the day. We can hop on Facebook or Tik Tok at any moment and be bombarded with sensory input, which often overwhelms us without us even realizing it and makes it nearly impossible to stay centered and grounded, particularly on the simple things. And it also then creates a discomfort when we are faced with silence and stillness, because we’re no longer used to it. My niece also demonstrated creativity in her storytelling around the design of the snow globe, another art that is often lost to us as adults. We’re so busy answering emails, tending to chores, and trying to get through our to-do lists, that creative endeavors fall to the wayside. They fall to the bottom of the priority list, to be done once everything else is completed, which never happens, because the to-do list never actually ends. Pay a bit more attention the next time you’re around children under the age of five. Notice how they interact with the world before they’re introduced to screens and adult responsibilities. Notice their ability to let go, laugh, and be in the moment. And then gently explore whether you might be able to bring this practice back into your own adult life. Turn off the notifications on your phone and laptop, even if just for an hour. Put away the phone when out to dinner with your friends, family, or partner, and just notice the person sitting in front of you. Give yourself the opportunity to taste and enjoy your food rather than checking email at the same time. Step outside and notice the breeze, the leaves on the trees, or the rain on your skin. Give yourself permission to pause, disconnect, and just notice. Just notice, and enjoy the subtle pleasures of the present moment. |