Mindfulness is a word which has come in vogue especially in the past twenty years.
I’d like to propose a complementary take. Is mindfulness a way to preserve one’s centeredness through thick or thin? Does it require unremitting focus on one’s breath? Does it foster compassion?
My training with world class masters in Taichi and my life as an Orthodox Jew seems to suggest otherwise.
It is unquestionable that sitting meditation withdrawn from sound, light, and motion has benefit. It can improve memory, improve sleep, and help adherents develop sustained focus. It can be the foundation for mental and physical feats to come. Single point meditation which is the meditation most in vogue today (a constant focus on breath and a count of numbers or repetition of words) is a powerful and a wonderful tool. These benefits though aren’t as easy to sustain in your daily rhythm as it might seem.
Perhaps it is a question of practice. There is a difference say between scrimmage and live play. A difference between performance and rehearsal. Why is that distinction removed when it comes to meditation? Meditators refer to their “practice.” Now let’s talk about meditation that takes place in life.
How can we keep up and be mindful in the marathon of everyday? Every time a new stimuli arises do we need to step into the withdrawn place and meditate to regain our composure? Taichi is a wonderful complement to different traditions of mindfulness training. It is often also called “moving meditation.” It is quite different than sitting meditation or similarly Yoga. By fluid movement throughout its forms it more closely mimics ordinary situations. This lessens the distinction between “practice” and “application.”
The person who moves effortlessly without knowing that they're moving is the person who moves most mindfully. Wouldn’t that be a nice way to be mindful? Not having to focus on being mindful you free up the batteries of their drain and strain. In the physical and the emotional realm moving effortlessly is the epitome of mindfulness.
So too can we train our mind and our emotions to act in this way. It is not easy and not necessarily a short endeavor. Emotions and actions can bounce off a person like water droplets on a duck’s feathers flowing onward in the stream it paddles on to infinity. This would be a very high level degree of mindfulness. Taichi in some respects can help individuals develop some of this “Teflon-ness.”
Interestingly, Taichi and Lubavitch Jewish observance convene on this point in different ways (Lubavitch is the town where a major strand of Hassidic Judaism began. Hassidic Judaism is known for, among other things, it’s zeal and joy for life).
Wouldn’t you like to balance effortlessly on every situation that arises?! What an opportunity we have to incorporate this additional layer of mindfulness into our lives!
However, being fully absorbed in the moment and responsive without losing our balance is only one half of the coin. An observant Jewish life has regular intervals of precisely the opposite. Tearing one’s self away from the absorbing moment to pause and have awareness of the specialness of the action you’re about to take and give gratitude you’re able to take it. How different a conception of mindfulness than we are accustomed to hearing these days.
Let’s say for example. Imagine if every time before you opened a door before you opened it you had to say “I am about to open a door.” Would that really make you more mindful or just frustrate you further? Or if every time you stepped into your car you had to say, “I am so lucky to have this transportation?” Interrupting our processes of thinking is one of Judaism’s time tested methods for shaping people into improved human beings.
At the end of the day anything you do if you want it to take effect you have to use consistency and persistency. It takes dedication to develop any habit of meditation.
I hope these few examples above give readers more food for thought about mindfulness in the future.
