“If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you must look forward, do so prayerfully. However, the wisest thing you can do is to be present in the present. Gratefully.”
- Maya Angelou
These last few weeks in the U.S. have been unprecedented, confusing, difficult, frustrating, scary, and filled with grief. To manage my stress, I’ve been incorporating mind/body strategies. Thinking about the future now increases my anxiety and fear, so focusing on my body through practical strategies and connecting with loved ones gives me a positive experience in the present moment, as I practice a more still presence.
Though mindfulness is a word that is thrown around a lot, I encourage you not to overlook it. Paying attention, stillness, quiet, slowing down, breathing…these are practices that are valuable to all of us, and that have been key components of faith-based practices for thousands of years. The ambiguous situation we currently face is incredibly challenging, and yet mindfulness practices bring me moments of peace even on difficult days. They help me slow down, breathe, pay attention, and broaden my perspective about what connection means.
I have started doing yoga every day, and when the weather permits, I take (physically distant) walks in my neighborhood. Prior to the pandemic, I would run while listening to music, but recently, I silenced the headphones and slowed to a long walk, realizing I was not in a hurry to cut my exercise short or consume information quickly. Over time, I began to notice more external sounds…water flowing, birds chirping, my feet on the rocky path, the wind whipping past my ear. Our brains encounter so many potential inputs, they have to work hard to choose what to pay attention to. Without the stimulus of the music and at this slower pace, my brain was free to pay attention to the rich beauty of the natural world around me.
As I continued my walks, I started to appreciate the gorgeous intricacy of the trees, water, rocks, birds, and squirrels. This reminded me of a recent unforgettable 40th birthday trip to the Galapagos in which I was forced to slow down and notice the beauty around me, as we rarely had cell service but were surrounded by breathtakingly gorgeous nature. On that trip, we took daily walks during the wee hours of the morning with a naturalist guide. The first day as I awoke to embark before the sunrise, I thought, “I hope waking up this early is worth it.” I was used to on-demand entertainment and heavy stimuli, rather than simply taking a walk and learning about plants and wildlife. But over time on that trip, I gradually noticed birds that previously seemed camouflaged in trees, countless sea lions and iguanas hiding among the rocks, and cacti that grew at different heights based on the predators on their specific islands. I deepened my understanding of the interconnectedness of our natural world and of details I previously ignored.
I realized that what’s jaw-dropping about the Galapagos is not that you will see odd animals, but how unbothered the animals are by humans, and how close they will get to you as a result. One day, you may quietly approach a beach where flamingos enjoy a morning stroll without flying away, you may encounter penguins who swim close enough to curiously peck the GoPro, or you may even lay on a beach where sea lions waddle up to nap alongside you.
The more I walked on that trip and now back in Georgia, I started to appreciate the cool shade provided by the trees. I noticed the weather shifting from sunny and warm to overcast and breezy within the time frame of a walk, and I marveled at a bird quickly shifting its tail as it repositioned itself on a branch. In the past, I would have missed all of these details, jamming to an upbeat playlist and ignoring the world, ready for the next highly stimulating activity. I had disconnected myself and dismissed the awe of nature, zipping past natural wonders and mindlessly seeking instant, artificial entertainment.
Existing in this current reality, staying home and away from people I care about to do my part in stopping the spread, is incredibly difficult for me, as it is for all of us. I am an extrovert and am screaming inside with my heart ripping at the seams out of a desire to hug and spend time with my loved ones. I feel like I am disconnected from my lifeblood, from face to face interaction with people. I want to go back to normalcy as soon as possible, to talk to my friends in person over tacos, work at my co-working space, go to church, or volunteer to help in some tangible way.
As with all of us, I have a long list of activities I can’t wait to do when this is over. But I know we have to wait, because we are interconnected with each other, as we are with the trees, the birds, and the rocky paths. We are deeply linked with the life that breathes all around us, whether we notice it or not. We have to wait for the safety of our society, for the health of our loved ones and of others’ loved ones.
Because of our connection, we have to momentarily disconnect with each other physically, but this does not mean we must lose connection. As we are forced to pay less attention to in-person interactions, our brains may be more awakened to our link to the natural world around us and to the calm, steady power of our breath.
As we wait, some of my strategies for mind/body connections are: focusing on the present day, gratitude, walking, yoga, prayer, and connection. This experience of being isolated from loved ones is gut wrenching, but it is an opportunity to teach me something different, to pay attention, move at a slower pace, and listen.
Thank you for reading, and check out some of my favorite mind/body resources:
Books:
The Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down, Haemin Sumin
Wherever You Go, There You Are, Jon Kabat Zinn
Mindfulness for Beginners, Jon Kabat Zinn
Meditation is Not What You Think, Jon Kabat Zinn
Present Over Perfect, Shauna Niequiest
The Body Keeps the Score, Bessel Van der Kolk, M.D.
Overcoming Trauma Through Yoga, David Emerson
Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer
Yoga Videos, Meditations, and Podcasts: