About the time I hit my stride, it was, regrettably, time to retire. It might have been an easier transition if I had not had to contend with unexpected multiple back surgeries and unanticipated struggles with mobility and balance. Not only did my body stop functioning in a manner to which I had grown quite accustomed, but my thinking process, my day to day reason for being, suddenly offered me no direction in which to proceed.
But that’s how it happened. My mind, always having been focused on some task or another, now had time to wander and be disengaged from any activity or forced writing assignment that it found cumbersome or unworthy of its attention. I experienced that the mind when set free runs amok and ideas come and go with no conscious focus or purpose other than showing up and whispering in my ear words of encouragement and instructions to let go and dream – dream big.
A call for calm and clarity rises up; I take a deep breath and sit down in a familiar lotus position. I hear, “follow the breath’” and I settle in. But I feel trapped this time, trapped and contained.
It seems to me that as I crash into retirement, everywhere I turn the topic of “mindfulness” assaults me in conversations, Facebook posts, self-help literature and as the basis for prescriptive transformation – a task, I am told, I should fully and energetically embrace. Mindfulness, I am taught, is being fully present in this moment, not rehearsing the past nor looking for deliverance in the hopes and uncertainties of the future. Just being, that’s it, that’s mindfulness. I must admit, at first blush, there is a certain appeal in just being “here and now”, but I wonder if this is such a lofty long term goal or if mindfulness will actually be of help to me as I contend with the unknown of limitless free time.
Memories serve to comfort and instruct me when I fall back to ruminating – not melancholy mind you, but falling back to, well remembering. Among other things, I remember my first bicycle and my first love, the first lie I told. I remember warm summer breezes, building snow forts with friends, watching spring blossom in colors misplaced during winter, and of course, I remember with all of my being, the smell of burning leaves on a crisp fall morning. There are abundant memories.
I am brought back from my memories by the voice of my mindfulness teacher, reminding me that I am “just to notice my thoughts, not engage them, take another deep breath in and release it, and let those distracting ideas disappear. Notice them but do not attend to them”.
I have concluded that being here now, being mindful, minimizes and trivializes my memories, discounts those memories, de-legitimizes those memories, all for my shot at transcendence. This may not be a good bargain.
As an obedient student of my teacher, I go forward, dutifully minimizing thoughts and memories as I take of deep breaths and find my center. But in secret I wonder about random thoughts and dreams of the future – what possibilities will I miss, what alternatives and new challenges will I unknowingly cast aside as thoughts and hopes of a potentially overflowing abundance of unexpected pleasures and struggles are nullified, just so I can be present in this moment? To where do thoughts of hope disappear as I consciously linger in this present moment of NOW?
I am told by my teacher that if I study and fully embrace the benefits of mindfulness, each of my previous questions/concerns will be quickly dispatched and relegated to obscurity as evidence of my lack of understanding of the benefits to mind, body, and spirit, all rendezvousing in the present moment. I am reminded of my goal, stillness, so that all might eventually be revealed. I am instructed by my well-meaning teacher that there is something magically mysterious about the effects of mindfulness training. Just sit, disavow interruptions and discount sounds, smells, and fleeting distractions. All will be revealed as I slow down, calm down, center myself, allow myself to be swallowed up in the moment. In the silence, earth and all of creation will offer up its lessons and insights. Or so I have been told. I am reminded once again, “I am just the student and not the teacher”, and so who am I to disagree with my teacher, my guide, on my journey to enlightenment?
When all is said and done, because of the past and in hope of a grace-filled future, enjoying this present moment has for me a very specific context; it is a fond adieu to the past and an expectation of future hope and faith.
This moment is but a resting place to catch my breath as I continue the journey of self from what I have been to what I will be. I sit down, I settle down, I breath slowly. Memories float in the moment. The past catches up with me. I look forward to experiencing a great future. I enjoy this treat, this moment of relaxation.
Now it is time to go and be. Life is in the living. If nothing else, that is where I might meet you and oh how sweet the joy of new discovery. Maybe you are enough enlightenment for a lifetime.
Jon, I love this. Yes, it’s a paradox. I’m doing myself no favors if I’m regretting the past and fearing the future but at the same time, my human mind treasures certain memories — a truth you so beautifully explore here. Some of my most valued memories that I can’t imagine ever letting go of until or unless my spirit ceases to exist — is of animals (non-human) I’ve loved — dogs, cats, a parrot. And of course, people too — every single day I think of my father who passed away several years ago. I see no unhealthiness in cherishing memories and having hopes and ambitions for the future. I think the danger is in adhering to this philosophy: “There’s no time like the present for regretting the past and fearing the future.” It runs in my family to live that way and I don’t want to. I once took a 10-day Vipassana retreat, 9 days of which were spent in silence and it helped me for the rest of my life — specifically, observing the constant chattering of my mind. As you discuss here, there is benefit in silence, stillness, calm breaths. I think it’s all about balance. Thank you for this — your writing is gorgeous and creates many meaningful ripples.
And why my comment appeared under the name “Dexitydex” — I have no idea!! Moira.