I am alive, I am breathing, that is enough. That is good.

This morning, amid packing lunches and feeding the kids breakfast and getting into the car to make it to school on time, was a morning that I fully felt the benefits of a mindfulness practice. There is a lot going on. You know what, though? There always is. In my life, and in yours, too, there is a lot going on.

We all have things we have to do to live, to maintain healthy relationships, to continue feeding ourselves and providing shelter for our family. Mornings are nearly always hectic in our house because I like to sleep until the very last possible second. Then I burst out of bed in a flurry of get dressed! Brush teeth! Breakfast! Pack lunch! Kiss-kiss! Goodbye! I have a board meeting this afternoon and an evening meeting of the community garden. It would be easy to get lost in the fray, swept away by the endless river of emotions and tasks flowing forcefully through our lives. It would be easy to even feel somewhat victimized by the steady and unrelenting onslaught of stuff to do.

There is a lot going on. When I am honest with myself, I realize that on some level, I am inviting these things into my life. Would I want it any other way? Less time with my kids and my spouse? A job that was less meaningful to me? Less time working in the community? If I had more time, I’d probably invite MORE things into my life. More things to do and learn about! More people to love! More beings to care for!

The problem is not necessarily that I have to do things or that I want to love and care for other beings. Nor is the problem that I am short on time. In fact, if someone were to wave a magic wand and give me four or eight or ten more hours in the day, I’d probably end up taking on more projects and more volunteer work and bigger workloads. If unchecked, the stress would ratchet right back up.

The real problem is that I let myself feel victimized by my to-do list. I let feelings of fear and anxiety and stress creep over me, often unrecognized, and allow them to attach themselves to every day tasks. In the end, these are just tasks that need to be completed. I attach feelings to both the activities on my to-do and the to-do list itself. Also, too often, I use them as a proxy for my self worth. Is my list long? Good. That means that I am valuable and doing things that matter. No, bad. Because it means I am lazy and inefficient. Am I crossing stuff off my to-do list? Good, because then I will be relieved from pressures and will be able to relax. No, bad, because I must be missing things that are more important than whatever was on my list before.

I get swept away by the anxiety and stress and just sheer busyness and forget to breathe. I forget that in every moment, with everything, I have the ability to breathe. And smile. And be fully present. Fear amplifies when the object of fear is at a distance, but living and breathing in the very moment, everything is manageable. I am learning that everything is not only bearable, it is often even pleasurable. Making lunches, chewing my toast, closing the car door, typing on the keyboard. This moment. This breath.

This morning I came face to face with the fact that life is busy, but mindfulness is not something that gets added to the to-do list. It is the fabric that wraps it all together. Mindfulness is not a skill I have to spend a week at a retreat center in order to learn and practice. I can be present any time, anywhere, and especially when my list of things to do is long and I feel stretched thin. I have a power tool that enables me to endure and thrive in scary, stressful and sad moments. My power tool is my conscious breath. I am alive, I am breathing. That is enough. That is good.

I leave you with a wonderful breathing meditation by Thích Nhất Hạnh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk, teacher, poet, peace activist and author of many books, including the one I am reading right now, Peace is Every Step:

Breathing in, I calm my body
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment
I know this is a wonderful moment. 

That is all.

PS- No, it is not all. Ella started school last week and after a bumpy first day involving her new teacher having to gently pry Ella’s tiny fingers from around my neck and me having to force a brave smile and walk away confidently, Ella loves school. She has made wonderful friends and has already gone to one birthday party and talks about dancing and recess and her new friends. I have pictures, but they are not here. I’ll try to get them posted soon.

PPS- our washing machine officially died on Monday. Since we inherited it from Chris’ parents and it is at least fifteen years old, we can’t really complain. We have a new one on order, but won’t have clean clothes until Monday of next week. So if you see me and I seem distant, it could be because I stink.

PPPS- That is all. Happy Wednesday.

Things I am thinking about right now, in no particular order:

Things I am thinking about right now, in no particular order:

Breakfast.  Lunch.  Eyeliner- why does it always run? Discuss.  A broken washing machine.  The start of school.  That PTA thing I am supposed to get done.  Man’s own mortality.  Jackers McJackJack, the two front-toothed toddling cutie patootie booty.  How do you spell patootie?  Nursing.  Co-sleeping.  Knitting.  Remember that?  

In a glaring example of my overachieverness, I have taken on way more than I can chew at work, by taking on an additional consulting gig on top of leading my organization.  Because hey, what the hell, I am sure I can cram even more work into an eight hour day and still come home and be fully present with the kids and be a super cool mom who demonstrates healthy lifestyle choices and reads to them every night and never ever longs for a moment to herself.

Isn’t it funny how much trouble we have saying no to things?  By “we” I really mean “me.” If someone needs my help, I go through extraordinary efforts to be there.  If I see a need, I step in to fill that space.  It pains me to think that I can’t be all things to all people and that sometimes I just have to let things go, even if it means that it won’t get done.  Or that it won’t get done well (Egads, the horror!). 

I read somewhere that the state of our constant busyness is akin to practicing self violence.  That really spoke to me.  Are we being kind to ourselves when we are maxed out, running at full speed from one event to the next, our minds always on the next item on our to-do list?  A quick review of my blog entries reveal that I struggle with this.  I struggle with the pull of wanting to help others and to volunteer for everything and the need to succeed and to achieve great things.  I struggle with how that unbelievably strong pull is in extreme dissonance with my urge to simplify, simplify, simplify and to maintain balance.  My meditation and mindfulness practice helps a lot with this. It helps me recognize my habits and to notice when I am mechanically taking on projects simply because I have been asked, rather than basing the decision on whether I should or want to. 

Sometimes, when I am quiet and still, I can hear my inner voice say, “walk away from this one,” or “let someone else take the lead on this.” Sometimes, I even listen. 

The fact is, I hate being that harried friend who never has time to do fun stuff with girlfriends.  I hate being that busy daughter who can’t find a good time for a long phone call with my parents (does anyone else hear “Cats in the Cradle” playing?  Is that just me?) I hate being that wife that is always strung out and too distracted for a real conversation and I hate being that mom that feels pulled in too many directions to fully engage.  And yet, here I am. 

In recent weeks I’ve practiced saying “no” or at least, “not right now.”  It’s tough.  I worry that I am letting people down and that they won’t like me anymore.  I am learning to sit with that fear and sit with my feelings of discomfort around that.  When I do, I find that usually those feelings dissipate and I am no worse for the wear.  Not always and not always right away.  Depending on the size of the task I’ve been asked to volunteer for, sometimes I have to come back again and again and sit with those feelings of discomfort.  

After a while, I’ve begun to wonder if the reason I have taken on so much in my life is because I was afraid of these feelings of discomfort.  A fear of uncomfortable feelings is wholly different from actively wanting to help on a project I’d been approached about.  But there it is.  As I have worked through my feelings, I’ve realized that simply sitting with and feeling uncomfortable things is often so much better than living in fear of them.  It has helped me to better understand where I want to put my energy and where perhaps I should demure.  But of course, I still actively struggle with it.  I wonder if I am doing enough and whether it is good enough.  

I guess we all do. 

I’ll close out this entry as randomly as I started it.  Things I’ve learned this week:

§         Baking soda on a carpet freshens up a carpet.  But use a vacuum on too much baking soda on a carpet?  Dead. 

§         Cloth diapers are great.  But cloth diapers must be rinsed thoroughly before being thrown in the washing machine.  Because lots of solid material put into the washing machine equals lots of solid material clinging to the side of the wash basin.  I’ve never seen cleaner grape skins, though.   

§         Finally, American Robins carry bird poop in their mouths. They call them fecal sacs and they do this to keep their nest clean.  I got this last bit from a book I read to the kids last night called, “Nature’s Yucky.”  Good book.  I have never smelled a robin’s breath, but I probably will avoid kissing them in the future now that I know this. 

That is all.  Now I am going to give my mom a call.  I’ll have to ask her how she took care of diapers, because I ma not impressed with the robin's approach.  

Multi-tasking is Essential and Other Lies People Tell You

After several years of pretending that I am paying attention to fifteen things at once, I have a confession to make. I am not. I am not even paying attention to two things at once. If I am checking my email and having a conversation with you, chances are I am not actually listening to you. If I am writing and listening to music, chances are I have no idea what song is playing. If I am watching the kids and updating Facebook, chances are that I don’t know who started the fight over what toy and why even though I have to now intercede.

For a long time, I tried to hide this fact, because everyone multi-tasks. Right? A quick look at job listings will tell you that employers seek and expect it. Friends and family expect it. And we all say we are doing a good job at it. This is a lie. In fact, we all think we are better than others at it. This is another lie. Other lies include, “No, I’ve never noticed how good looking so and so is” and, “I like burnt rice, really!”

Back to multi-tasking. The truth is, I suck at multi-tasking. And I know that you do too. Don’t take it personally, we all suck at it. Lots of research backs this up now, which I could track down and link to, but eh. I am blogging right now and stopping to find that research would suck me into a vortex of internet/Wikipedia/Google results from which I would emerge with recipes for Jerk Chicken and a full natural history of the sea anemone. Just trust me on this or spend a few minutes looking it up yourself. What we commonly think of multi-tasking as is actually high speed task switching. And I am formally and publicly declaring an end to my delusion of multi-tasking.

Multi-tasking, I am calling your punk card.

Here is what I know to be true:
-Multi-tasking causes stress
-Mindfulness reduces stress
-You can not multi-task and be mindful

As my organization has experienced the roller coaster ups and downs of this year (and at present, mostly downs), a wise board member of mine recently said to me, “It is a good time to be mindful.” He is right. Now is a good time to be mindful. Of course, right now is always a good time to be mindful. To stop the endless chatter in our heads, to practice full awareness of the present moment, to be here now, and by definition, to not be anywhere in the future, past or lost in fantasy. Even though his words were simple, this long time meditator reminded me that it is hard to feel stress when you are truly mindful. Being mindful necessitates releasing your expectations of what the next month, next day or next moment should be. It requires you to be fully present in this moment. It also allows you to be mindful of your own thoughts and feelings. It allows you to recognize your feelings of anxiety, sadness or anger and in acknowledging them, allows you to release them, rather than be controlled by them. We spend so much time wrestling with our emotions, strong arming our thoughts and alternately becoming absorbed in or ignoring our feelings. In doing so, we allow these feelings and thoughts to control us in their hidden grasp.

An analogy that I often think of is that pain, either emotional or physical, is like a two year old. Ever had a two year old try to get your attention? Ever try to ignore her then? What happens? The two year old gets louder. Maybe they scream, or flail, or strip off their clothes in the produce section of the grocery store. Pain, like a two year old, will try to get your attention. If unacknowledged, that two year old will try harder. And if you continue to ignore her, that two year old will ratchet it up to an ugly temper tantrum that paralyzes everyone involved and horrifies the nearby woman testing a cantaloupe for ripeness.

That, at least for me, is the danger of multi-tasking. What that two year old needs, more often than not, is acknowledgement. She needs you to put down the smartphone, get down on her level, look her in the eye and say, “I am here with you right now. What are you trying to tell me?” What ever pain we are feeling at any given moment, whether it is a backache or the sting of rejection, needs the exact same acknowledgement.

In multi-tasking, we sweep endlessly from one thing to the next, always with the hope of being efficient, maybe with the thought that when “everything gets done” then we can relax. Then we can meditate. Then we can be present, and enjoy the present moment. But do you? I don’t. Do we ever get everything done so that we can sit and be in the present moment? How much of our lives do we spend in anticipation of the next moment, thereby robbing ourselves of the present one?

Mindfulness is simple, and as is often observed, is simultaneously incredibly difficult. Being present, being mindful, is being here, now. Even if now isn’t what we think of as perfect. It is noticing the thoughts that emerge and the feelings we experience without judgment, without holding on to them or building them up. Just acknowledging them and allowing them to be, and allowing them to pass. It is acknowledging that toddler when she first says your name, instead of reacting angrily by yelling at her when she is bubbling over with frustration next to the tomatoes.

This is not to say that I will never try to do two or fifteen things at the same time ever again. I will. At some point, we all have to. What I am saying is multi-tasking robs us of being here, now, and we would all be a little better off if we acknowledged that. Since it is in being here and now that matters, I will try my hardest not to multi-task mindlessly, but to live life as mindfully as possible. So, forgive me if I don’t respond right away to a phone call or get right back to an email. I am trying not to multi-task these days, which seems like it would be less efficient, but in allowing me to be fully present, it actually makes me much more efficient at the task at hand.

Now is a good time to be mindful. So is right now. May the peace and joy of the present moment fill you.