Get Some Headspace: 10 minutes can make all the difference (18 page)

After a while of thinking and feeling this way the momentum of anger started to fade, and was replaced by a wave of sadness and guilt. I felt sad about indulging in all those angry thoughts, and guilty about where and to whom they’d been directed. This feeling remained for a while longer, again accompanied by thoughts that reflected this passing mood. Finally, the ball of ice-cream lost its battle with the midday sun and all that was left in the bowl was a pool of warm, yellow, sticky goo. As I looked at it, I found it hard to imagine why I’d got quite so upset about it. Or why I’d got quite so excited about it. It didn’t look nearly as appetising now. And with those thoughts came a wave of acceptance that seemed to transform my mood altogether. My emotional attachment to the ice-cream (the fact it happened to be food was incidental) had been so strong that I’d lost all sense of awareness. And this loss of awareness had resulted not only in endless, exhausting and ultimately futile mental chatter, but had also left me with the feeling of having been swept away on an emotional roller-coaster from which there was no getting off.

This may be an extreme example, but it highlights a common experience with food. It’s the sense that we’re so absorbed in our feelings, or in the constant mental chatter, that we no longer feel in control of our choices and actions. Have you ever found yourself halfway through a chocolate bar or a packet of crisps, only to think, ‘Why am I even eating this?’ Oblivious to the fact that we might not even be hungry, we mindlessly follow every impulse that arises. This isn’t helped by the fact that we’re so often distracted by other things at the same time. In fact, it just makes it all the more likely that we’ll remain lost in the world of thought. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but when did you last sit at the table to eat a meal? For most people, the sofa has taken the place of the table. In the past we’d have paused before food, whether that was down to etiquette or prayer. It was a time to acknowledge what was about to be eaten, to get a sense of appreciation for having food in front of us.

With this in mind, I’m going to suggest that this following exercise is done while sitting at a table. You may like to try it alone the first couple of times, as you’ll probably find it easier to concentrate. It’s best done in silence to begin with, free from conversation or background noise, so you’ll find it easier if you turn off the television, any music, and yes, even your mobile phone. You’ll also get more out of it if you do it without any reading material in front of you, so say goodbye to your laptop, books and magazines. This leaves just you and your food. People often say they feel either lonely or bored when they first try this exercise (an indication of just how rarely we’re undistracted in this way), but as soon as you throw yourself into the exercise, both of these feelings will fade quite quickly. You may also like to eat a little more slowly during this exercise (although not as slowly as in the Burmese monastery) so that it’s easier to apply the instructions. This is not the way (or the speed) I’m suggesting you eat
all
the time, but as a formal exercise it’s best done this way. It’s the difference between meditation and mindfulness that we discussed before. Meditation simply helps you be more mindful in everyday life, no matter how busy you are, or how many people you’re with. So once you’re familiar with what it means to eat mindfully, you can apply it to all your mealtimes, even if you’re chatting among friends or eating in a hurry.

Have you ever started walking down a street, only to find yourself a few minutes later at the end of the street, but not really sure how you got there? This is a common experience and one that raises the question, if you were not present ‘in the street’, where were you? Almost inevitably you will have been caught up in the thoughts of the mind. Of course sometimes it’s nice to just let the mind wander and many people say this is when they are at their most creative. Only you truly know how much of the mental chatter is productive or pleasant when you’re out and about. Now walking down the street, the implications of drifting off into thought are usually not all that serious. But have you ever done the same with driving? Suddenly realised that you’ve driven a couple of miles down a familiar route with no sense of awareness whatsoever? It’s both funny and scary. Funny that we could ever be so absent minded, and scary because of the implications. But there’s a very good reason why this sort of thing happens to us, and it’s more obvious than you might think.

Walking is an established and habituated action that requires very little concentration. Because of this, it’s almost become autonomous, and it’s easy to slip into a semi-conscious state of walking, where the legs are moving but the mind is thinking about something different altogether. It might be thinking about things that are already on your mind (this includes all the little things as well as the big stuff), or it might be that new thoughts are triggered by external objects or other people in the street. This is especially true if you live in a busy city or a very crowded place with lots of activity.

Noticing these things is fine. In fact, from a mindfulness perspective you could even say it’s good, because it means you are, temporarily outside of the realm of thought. The problem arises once you engage with the thing that’s grabbed your attention and when you then start to think about it, to create a story around it. Perhaps when a noisy car goes past it reminds you that you don’t like living in a busy place and you start dreaming of where you might like to live instead. Or maybe when you see something in the shop window you start to think how nice it would be to have it, only to then start thinking about your money troubles. Whatever it is that causes the mind to wander off, it’s a movement
away
from the present moment, away from the direct experience of life. It can sometimes feel as though we’re so busy remembering, planning and analysing life, that we forget to
experience
life – as it
actually
is, rather than how we think it
should be
.

As with most of these exercises, there are two ways to approach training the mind to be present while walking. First there’s the formal approach, which I’ll refer to as ‘walking meditation’, which tends to be done a little more slowly. And then there’s the more general, practical application of mindfulness for walking in everyday life. It’s not necessary to do both and many people jump straight into the general application because it doesn’t require any more time out of the day. You probably already walk a lot throughout the day anyway, so all you’re doing is directing the mind in a different way as you continue to do what you’ve always done. The way I’ve structured the next exercise is a fusion of these two approaches. I would suggest, if you have time, that you try it more slowly at first, if only once or twice, just to get a better feel for the technique. It might also be worth trying it in a park or on a quiet street rather than in the middle of a busy town. It’s perhaps the equivalent of learning to swim in a swimming pool rather than the sea.