Mindfulness: I SEE YOU. I AM HERE.

Meditation is not for everyone. Specifically, meditation is probably not for me as a regular, daily practice. Is there a meditative practice called "Meditation for the Fidgety"? The WLC lifestyle challenge for this week and next is to practice mindfulness for 10 minutes each day. I should note this doesn't necessarily mean meditation, although apparently it's "all the rage" these days. The WLC folks state it simply means being absolutely present in whatever you practice for those ten minutes. Journaling, walking (not for fitness or to go somewhere, but just to walk), anything that focuses your mind completely on just the thing you're doing in the moment you're doing it. They DID note that yoga doesn't count for this - although there are meditative yoga practices that I think fit the bill for mindful meditation, I suppose they don't want people to do ONLY yoga for two weeks since it also counts as the daily exercise and stretching requirement. S'okay. I like a more athletic than meditative yoga practice anyway, so I won't let that be a sticking point for accepting this challenge.

Despite having the Take-a-Walk option, I made a commitment to use the WLC as an opportunity to step outside my comfort zones, so I thought I should at least try meditation. I went into this with no expectations for successful outcome, as I've always sort of believed the ability to meditate must be a super power.

Background on that theory: there is a list of things I've tried and failed with a consistent degree of suck, things a functioning adult should be able to accomplish, resulting in the conclusion that the people who do these things with ease have super powers. The list includes (but is not limited to):

• Walking gracefully in high heels.
• Making a soufflé.
• Gardening.
• Folding fitted sheets (the elastic sides, what the eff.)
• Calculus.
• Ice skating backwards.
• Being absolutely still without sedatives.

I expected to try meditation and quickly abandon it for the "take a walk" option. I figured my own disinclination to be still, coupled with my surroundings, would make failure a sure thing. I mean, I'm trying to meditate at home. Home is my haven, where there is a husband and some teenagers and a messy [insert any room in the house] and a meal to prepare and homework to check on and and and... a day to wrap up so I can get into bed with a book and actively engage in Not Sleep (see previous lifestyle challenge description). So, home is my haven but home is distracting (pleasantly so, aside from the ever-present messiness). And the distractions are hard to shut off to be in my own head.

But hard is not impossible, and I couldn't relegate meditation to the list of Not-My-Super-Power until I gave it a shot. Here is what I've discovered:

Probably the closest I come to meditative
stillness is when I'm sitting on a
Laurentian beach with a cup of coffee.

I'm not a stillness kind of girl. My thoughts easily wander, most often to my kids or a list of unfinished tasks. As I sat still, trying to focus entirely on my breath and stillness, I found myself having to constantly redirect. It was the first time I've ever been distressed by what I usually think of as my enviable ability to multi-task. Honestly, when I'm having a conversation or am otherwise engaged in an activity with another person (out to dinner, etc.), I'm mentally in several other places. I am not fully focused and present in that conversation or activity. The same holds true really for anything I'm doing. I'm not just running, I'm running while planning a work project. I'm not just working, I'm working while mentally organizing my family's week. I am wholeheartedly not fully present most of the time. Which kinda sucks. I know I'm not the only person out there guilty of this, it's sadly the norm (thank you, smartphones) but it still sucks. If I'm engaged in a conversation with you, you deserve my full attention. I deserve yours.

During a wedding I attended last year, my father (one of the priests officiating) spoke after the service to those gathered and referenced the Zulu greeting "Sawubona" meaning "I see you." The reply to this greeting is "Ngikhona" meaning "I am here." The greeting and response carry huge meaning in their simple words. By saying "I see you," you convey that you recognize one another's whole existence, your humanity and dignity, and that you respect and are grateful for all that you see in that person. By answering with "I am here," you affirm that you have been seen and understand that your personal dignity is recognized. The exchange is an acknowledgement of the responsibility each of us has to respect and care for one another.

It stayed with me, this wedding speech, in part because my Pops sure can deliver a few moving words (comes with the preacher territory, I suppose), but also I think because it was such a simple but eloquently stated summation of something that so few of us are good at. And it comes to me every time I practice yoga, when I can honestly say I am at my most "present." It comes to me every time I'm missing a loved one, or when I'm trying to really understand something my children are experiencing or when I'm trying to make myself understood. Or when I experience loss and wonder if that person knew how very much they were valued. And it surfaced again while I've spent time trying to meditate this week. And so I found the focus and purpose of my personal "mindfulness challenge."

I'll say again that daily meditation is probably not my thing - maybe that's a super power I'll acquire someday, and to that end I will still try it every few days - but I will definitely carry the practice of mindfulness beyond these two weeks. While I may choose a walk over seated meditation (know your limits, Nadia, know your limits), I'll try to use that time to be present in that moment and observe my thoughts in that moment, and hopefully then bring an improved "presence" to moments of active engagement with others. If I can get anything positive out of this Lifestyle challenge, it will be knowing that you - family, friends, readers - can believe I mean it, or that I'm at least trying to mean it, when I say "I see you. I am here."

p.s.

My "mindfulness music" this week has been the work of Arvo Pärt, whose compositions I had been - like many - only peripherally aware of but whose career I knew was significantly important and influential (many of the rock/pop/punk/indie musicians I like cite Pärt as an influence). The man and his work are currently the subject of an intense project my cousins are involved in, so I wanted to give it some more focused attention.

The man is a genius.

This is one of Pärt's most popular works - you've probably heard it in a film score here and there. It was composed in response to the passing of a composer who Pärt admired deeply but never had the chance to meet. It is dedicated here to the memory of Rick's friend Jason Molina, another musical soul, who probably never knew how many people saw him and knew he was here.