Appreciating boredom

In a world where the mind is often overstimulated, it is easy to encounter boredom in the practice of meditation. Through meditation we familiarize ourselves with our habitual patterns of mind and discover how we typically relate to the world. If we find the practice boring, chances are we have a tendency to blame the experience and identify with our desire to get away from it. However, the boredom is not with what we are attending to. It is fabricated by our mind and its evolutionary wiring to seek the pleasant stimuli to help us survive: food, shelter, social interaction.

The good news is that mindful meditation itself offers a remedy, because it invites us to be interested in all aspects of life, even those that are often labelled as “boring”. If we manage to stay with them, to reverse any patterns of reactivity that take our attention away from the present, and become interested in what our boredom feels like, it disappears by definition. Of course this does not happen from one day to the next: it is necessary to gradually develop this capacity for ongoing curiosity. In fact, in Eastern traditions practitioners sit in meditation staring at blank walls (imagine!).

So if you feel bored in your meditation, but you’re willing to invite your interest to it with an attitude of friendly curiosity, you’re on the right track!

“When you pay attention to boredom it gets unbelievably interesting.”

— Jon Kabat-Zinn

Thoughts are real, but not true

Sometimes I get ruminative thoughts that spin around and around in my head. I create all possible scenarios of failure and tragedy. And I believe they will come true.

Worry is a very real kind of mental suffering. I know because I come from a lineage of worriers myself. My mother used to joke that when not much was happening it was time to worry. “It is my way of making sure nothing goes wrong,” she says.

And these thoughts can be very convincing, holding us back by making us believe they are actually true. But an incredibly liberating realization is that we don’t actually have to believe our thoughts. They are there, they keep coming, they are real. But as one of my teachers says: they are real, but not true.

So what can we do to wake ourselves from the suffering of worry and the anxiety that goes with it? Experts suggest to explore with curiosity: what am I believing right now? Once you start questioning your thoughts you can start to gain distance from them. But of course this is not a quick fix: it’s a practice. It’s a matter of questioning time and time again, on and off the cushion. 

Sitting in the sun

When I started meditating I used to think that I could only practice on the cushion. And while there is great benefit in practicing regularly in your habitual meditation space, it does not mean that you cannot practice anywhere else. 

Today I found a sunny spot and I sat there (with sunscreen!). I noticed the sensations of sunlight on the body, the contact of the breeze with the skin, the changing light through the eyelids as the clouds passed.

At the end of my practice I dedicated a moment of gratitude. I used to take the sun for granted when I was living in Spain - things are very different here... I was grateful for its presence and what it does for us every day: nourishing plants, animals, and ourselves. And I remembered Mary Oliver’s poem:

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone–
and how it slides again
out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance–
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love–
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed–
or have you too
turned from this world–
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

Walk with me

Over the course of three years, Max Pugh and Marc J. Francis followed the life of 91-year, zen Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh and got unprecedented access to Plum Village, his monastery in the South of France. The result is Walk with me, a beautiful cinematic journey into the world of mindfulness and life in the monastery, with a focus on stillness and contemplation (if you watch the trailer below, you’ll probably listen to roughly 50% of the total narration in the 90 minute film!).

The documentary captures the daily routine of the Sangha and their teacher, Thay, as they refer to him, through the seasons: from winter in the monastery through to the arrival of retreatants in the warmer months (over 10,000 every year) and ordination of new monks and nuns, shedding light into what it looks like to devote one’s life to the pursuit of a simple, joyful, deeply connected and present life.

“You have been running a lot, but you have not arrived.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

This fascinating exploration also follows a group of monks and nuns on a trip to North America, leaving some moving and funny moments. My favourite was when Sister An Nghiem (Sister Peace) was visiting her dad whom she only gets to meet every two years since ordination. In a moment full of tenderness and emotions, her dad and Sister Peace were visibly moved appreciating the moment and each others company, referring to it as “heaven on Earth”. Her reaction when she looks up and sees what the rest of her family is up to is priceless.

Benedict Cumberbatch sprinkles the documentary with selected passages from ‘Fragrant Palm Leaves’, a journal that Thich Nhat Hanh wrote in the 1960s, where he describes in wondrous detail his feelings about being true to himself and committing to his path.

If you’re interested in watching it, there are screenings in the UK February to April, and also on other European countries (and more).

Mindful skiing this season

As the benefits of mindfulness become more widely known, its application in sports is booming, from the NBA New York Knicks or the Super Bowl Champion Seattle Seahawks to top world tennis players like Novac Djokovic. When athletes are performing, they absolutely need to increase focus, maximize physical capacity, let go of unhelpful emotions and keep a clear head in the moment, starting over and over again.

“It’s not the mountain we conquer but ourselves. ”

— Sir Edmund Percival Hillary

The latest application of mindfulness is winter sports, but you don’t have to be a professional skier or snowboarder to bring a bit of mindfulness to the slopes. You may be doing it already without knowing it: it’s hard not to end up rolling downhill if you’re not feeling your weight and your mind is somewhere else. But if you bring a bit more conscious awareness to your surroundings, your body and your thoughts, you will soften and ease more into a flow, reconnect to the world through your senses, and improve your technique.

You can try it next time you’re in the mountains with the guidance below, or you can join the monks and nuns of Plum Village for a week of meditation in motion in Andorra (March 6 to 11, 2018), or sign up for a mindful ski break by Hip Chalets in Chamonix, France (several dates available).

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As you sit on the chairlift, feel the weight of you body supported by the chair, and the support of your feet on the bar. Breathe mindfully noticing how your body feels, letting go of any tension in your muscles. This could be a great opportunity to notice the tone of your thoughts.

When you’re at the end of the lift, pause. Stop and become aware of the weather and your surroundings. Take in the beauty and serenity of the mountains for a moment or two, being conscious of the colors, shapes and sounds around you. Remind yourself of the intention to descend mindfully.

When you’re ready, let the weight of your body set you in motion. Feeling your breathing and your body, try to coordinate your turns with your breathing. You could also explore counting to three after every turn, keeping the focus on your body.  

When unhelpful thoughts come in, acknowledge that they have showed up and let them go as you return to your flow of breathing and turning.

No matter your cadence or speed, see if it’s possible to reach a point where you are simply in the zone, flowing down the mountain and experiencing each turn.

New Year Resolutions

You’ve probably been thinking about 2018 resolutions for weeks by now, just like all of us. And if you’ve managed to refrain from a long list, you’ll most certainly have at least a few: lose weight, save more, work out, change jobs, start a hobby, learn a new language. Sound familiar? Well, if you’re like most of us, in four weeks you will have forgotten about them. And that’s okay! It’s absolutely normal. But that’s why this year I’m proposing something different: no new year resolutions.

Yes, you’ve read it. No new projects, hobbies, plans. Nothing. Do absolutely nothing. And if you REALLY have to do something, make your resolution to not want anything to be different in the new year. Objective: zero objectives. Start 2018 with no pressure whatsoever to do anything other than staying open to whatever is already here, being receptive to change, and show compassion to yourself for your shortcomings.

It may feel easy, resigned, deceiving. But the truth is that it’s absolutely massive. And if you don’t believe me just give it a shot, and experience it for yourself. May you have a mindful 2018!

“Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
We have refused again and again
Until now.
Until now”

— David Whyte