Waking Reset

In the wider world of mindfulness research, the numbers are in: I know that if I practice regularly, even a little, my body and mind will benefit. (Here’s Harvard’s take.) But in that promise lies this simple truth: it’s work to push past the barriers (no time, too busy, this is boring, this is hard!) and commit to a mindfulness habit. That’s what makes it practice. There is only one way to do it “wrong,” and that is to not do it at all.  

Honestly, my most mindful minute is the moment I wake up. If I’m listening, it’s my body’s big “tell,” a map of embedded stress, enjoyment, injury, restedness or trauma that just comes with living. Some days, my neck aches from sleeping clenched around a knot of worry...or, as is common here in Jackson, the physical overuse that comes from living in nature’s most inviting playground. Some days it’s my right hip, where I carried babies (inside and out) and where, some researchers say, the body stores stress. Some days my feet and calves are already tense and prone to cramping. 

This moment is my chance to practice -- to feel the feels and let them go. In this space, I can give small thanks for the opportunity to notice and respond by stretching and breathing into the issue at hand. It’s my hot minute to think of the unvoiced suffering of others who are also waking and taking stock of hurt. And yes, I have it in me to wish that they be well. (Even if our public personas don’t get along.) 

Then, I find confidence in knowing that even before my feet hit the floor, I have done something. I have pushed and tended myself and my mind in ways that have lasting benefit. And even if I wake up tomorrow with some bigger challenge sitting on my chest, I know what works. I feel it.