Mindfulness

Let me preface this by saying that the following is not a New Year's resolution. Having only ever kept one such resolution in my entire life - a commitment, when I was about 15, to put lotion on my hands every day - I no longer practice this form of discipline. I do, however, think the following is a really good idea which needs to be incorporated into my life, and happens upon me at the start of a new year. Disclaimer noted.

I mentioned in an earlier blog that my husband and I have been trying to have a baby. In spite of all warnings by my 8th grade health teacher, it turns out that this process is not as easy - for us - as one would have anticipated. I know the struggle to conceive is mightily distracting for me. So I have been trying to face it head on. I have been trying to admit that, after one year, we are officially in the "infertile zone." Which doesn't mean we'll be there forever, but there's no longer any point in denying the problem.

I found a book the other day on infertility, written to help women with the "mind-body connection," and trying to encourage practices which help stem the panicking tide of "we'll never have a baby!" One of the disciplines mentioned was that of mindfulness. For some reason, this particular chapter struck me as deeply important.

Of course I don't have the book in front of me - I never have the book in front of me when I'm writing things like this - but the author talked about how much of the time we spend anticipating the next bend around the corner. For women struggling to conceive, you're always waiting for the next thing: the next time you'll ovulate, the next time it will be well-timed to have sex, the next time you might get your period. You skip over the present moment with worries about what might, or will, be.

I do this in my church work too. I am never content when things are going well, just waiting for the next crisis. And in the midst of the crisis, I am waiting for the next person to get angry. My anxiety has become almost overwhelming. I usually live at a sort of low-grade anxiety level - a kind of yellow-alert-stage thing, if the government were grading me - but even I have noticed that it is getting really, really bad. Time to do something about that.

Mindfulness is the intentional focusing on this moment. The sound of the keys as I type. The sound of the guitar as it plays on NPR in my office. The taste of the decaf (stupid infertility) latte I drank in the car this morning. This moment. Not the next day, not the next week, not the next time I will have to buy tampons, not the next person who gets mad about the liturgy I chose for Advent.

Of course, Jesus already said, "Today's trouble is enough for today." Damn, that man was wise. I think I will try that for awhile. See how that goes. It's helping already, I can tell you that. I'm sure I will fail regularly. But there I go again, anticipating something too far ahead. For right now, my office is warm. There is snow outside. It is time for Performance Today on the radio. And that is enough.