I’ve been meaning to start meditating regularly, but somehow I never get around to it. Even though I’ve kept up with the research on meditation’s health benefits, attended workshops on mindfulness-based cognitive therapy, and downloaded Buddhist prayer chime apps on my phone, I keep putting off making meditation a regular part of my day.
If I want to be truly credible when I recommend meditation to my patients, I really need to get off—or, rather, on—my butt and practice it myself.
My armchair quarterbacking reminds me of all the hours spent observing my son while he was learning to play the trumpet before he could drive himself to his weekly lessons. I absorbed his teachers’ suggestions about embouchure and breath control so thoroughly that I almost believed I could pick up a horn and perform a passable rendition of The Hummel without ever having played a note of my own.
When he got stuck on difficult passages during practice, I’d offer helpful technical advice. My tips about double and triple tonguing were always met with some verbal or nonverbal variant of “Shut up, Mom.” ( The maternal wisdom I impart now that he’s in college elicits the same reaction. But that’s another story.)
In the last week or so, as I’ve been working up to making a public declaration of my intention to cultivate mindfulness through meditation, I’ve at least become more mindful of the mental obstacles I put in my path. Here are a few of them.
I’ve decided to start anyway. Yes, I am really busy and it is beautiful out and I am really tired and I do have to work on my taxes and it is the middle of the week. And I might not stick with it. But I’m going to give it a go—once a day at first and only for five minutes, just to see if I can do it. I plan to write about my observations along the way.
I’m starting today. Quieting my mind will take some extra effort because my son is coming home this afternoon and bringing the four other members of his trumpet ensemble with him. They’ll be rehearsing in our house for their upcoming performance at the National Trumpet Competition.
I hope being more mindful will help me resist the urge to comment on their intonation.
Have you ever noticed how many self-improvement plans involve numbers? Here’s what I mean:
These are all real books. Some have been blockbuster bestsellers; others, well . . .
Now I’ll offer my own temporal tip. You can get motivated and make up for the hour lost to the return of Daylight Savings Time this weekend in ONE SECOND OR LESS by following my One-Second Plan A or my No-Seconds Plan B. Both are effective, but Plan B is faster.
Plan A: Turn off the computer.
Plan B: Don’t turn on the computer.
Sound too good to be true? If you doubt me, test it out for yourself. I tried Plan B a few weeks ago when I had company coming and needed to get the house cleaned in a hurry. Instead of letting emails and Facebook status updates swallow up the morning, I dashed around throwing out newspapers, vacuuming up dog hair, fluffing towels, spritzing bathroom fixtures and Swiffering floors. I was done before noon and still had plenty of time to take the dogs out for a long walk and relax with the Sunday crossword before the guests arrived.
In the interest of submitting my technique to rigorous scientific scrutiny, I did a second experiment the following week. I controlled for treatment variables, using Plan A this time. But the results weren’t as favorable due to one critical flaw in my methodology: my directions were ambiguous.
Instead of instructing myself to turn off the computer, I said: Don’t sit down at the computer.
And I didn’t. Instead I stood, hunched over the laptop on the kitchen counter, while I answered “just one” email, then another, then read “just one” blog, then another . . . Until, an hour later, I tore myself away to go fold the pile of clothes on my closet floor. But my back was in such a spasm from my contortions over the keyboard that I couldn’t bend down.
This Sunday I’ll be following the revised version of Plan A.