Thich Nhat Hanh says that we have to be mindful not only of what is going on here, but what is going on "there." What good is it to eat a piece of fish mindfully if we are unaware that the overfishing of this species is altering ecosystems on the other side of the world? What good is it to eat mindfully if the workers who grew my food are also exploited. Mindfulness brings attention, not only here, but also there. Of course we cannot always be aware of all things that are going on around us - or within us - but we can begin to practice in ways that include the world around us, not simply our own body and breath. In the end, we all breathe the same breath - we inter-breathe, which means we must be mindful of the things that we do to affect that interbreathing.
Lately I have found it difficult to be "mindful." How can I be mindful when there are baby bottles to wash, and I am so tired from lack of sleep that all I can think about is getting to bed. But do I have the energy to sit... just for a few minutes... just one bit of meditation or centering prayer before unconsciousness consumes me? I think in some ways mindfulness is also the asking of these questions. We cannot always take one peaceful step after another. Sometimes we must move quickly. But can I know that I am moving quickly? Can I be in tune with the hurry, with the anxiety that is produced when I rush? Can I also embrace that with compassion, and seek to learn ways to reduce this hurry - to reduce this anxiety? I think that is what mindfulness means. Sometimes it is in the asking of questions - not in a panicked perfectionistic type of way, but in an aware, open way. Sometimes I need more sleep. But when I sleep so much I let slip my spiritual nourishment, my community involvement, my exercise, etc., then I have become unmindful. When I fixate on any specific thing, I tend to fall out of balance. Perhaps balance and the energy of mindfulness are inextricably interwoven. I cannot find one without the other. I can get neither ahead of myself nor behind. "Let what I do flow from me like a river, with no forcing and no holding back." Sometimes it is hard to walk this balance. This too is a kind of meditation, when we do it with gentleness and self-love.
I can't always do things perfectly. When there's a baby or some other circumstance that destabilizes an easier environment for practice, one must learn how to adapt, to find meditation in the actions, and to give compassion when it feels like there is no mindfulness, no meditation, no "spiritualness." Sometimes the seeking after spiritual feelings is self-indulgent. Sometimes there is only the ordinariness. The frustration. The crankiness. Sometimes this crankiness, this too is an object for awareness. We grow even as we see it. Even as we embrace it, sometimes tearfully. Our ego is stripped as we see that we are not always perfect. We are not as enlightened as we thought.
In yoga, I have learned to laugh at myself when I fall out of a balancing pose. I used to think I needed to "try harder" or "focus more." But I have learned that balancing poses simply reflect back to me where I am. Today I am scattered, I am a mess, I am all over the place. If I "try really hard" to balance - well, perhaps if I succeed in not falling out of a pose, I hurt myself more than if I let myself fall. Because then I have this delusion that I'm "better" than I actually am. I miss the awareness that my practice is trying to bring to me - the revelation of where I truly am in this moment. I think it's the same way when we find ourselves responding to family or friends or circumstances with anger, irritation, or fear. When we simply try to not be angry, irritated, or afraid, then we miss out on the chance to tend the deeper seeds - to engage our journey on much more substantive levels (of course if we get carried away with the fear or anger, we remain equally unconscious). Too often we focus on the symptoms. We get rid of the headache, but underneath there is still the cause - unattended. Mindfulness is not a practice of getting rid of anger and fear. It is a practice that begins by holding them - paying attention to them - breathing with them. Same with panic, hurry, frustration, perfectionism, self-chastisement, or any other unwholesome mind-states. We work to eliminate them, yes - but by dealing with them at the roots. You cannot just trim weeds, you must dig deep - your practice must go beneath the symptoms, and this requires mindfulness. And mindfulness requires patience.
I remember a chapel message delivered at my undergraduate institution one Easter. The speaker was reflecting on what it takes to follow Jesus. He said something to this effect:
"Maybe you are asking yourself this Easter, what you can do to become a better follower of Jesus. Well, if we are to take the Bible seriously, perhaps the most spiritual thing you can do this Easter is to fail... All of Jesus' disciples failed him in his greatest hour of need."
Everything came from this failure. This willingness to be utterly human. Peter had told Jesus "I will never deny you, even if EVERYONE else denies you, I will never." Peter was the victim of hubris and self-delusion. He denied Jesus. Three times. He failed. But perhaps our failures - our falling out of a posture - in yoga or in life - have more to do with helping us grow than do our "successes." Perhaps it is our failures that show us more clearly where - and who - we truly are. Because we are not our images of ourselves. We are not our posturing. Sometimes I think I am most myself when I lose my balance and fall out of a pose. I'm just human. Somewhere along the line someone told us that was unspiritual. But at the end of each day we return to our breath - we remember that we are only ever just human, and in that humanity is our spirituality. In that and nothing else.
Wait. That is not quite accurate. My spirituality is also in YOUR humanity. It is in the trees and the forests and the animals we too often mistreat. It is in the body of the world, as Eve Ensler so wonderfully put it. One Body, One World. Our spirituality is there. One breath. One future.
Together.
