On Mindfulness & Dogfulness
10/29/2015
This article is cross-posted with Elephant Journal: www.elephantjournal.com/2016/02/on-mindfulness-dogfulness Finding mindfulness isn't like flipping a switch.
Most of us can’t simply will ourselves into a state of zen like a Tibetan monk—the modern age and our overactive minds simply won’t allow it. So I look to the outside world for help. Be it through nature, exercise, apps, travel, everyday choices, or habits, we can use all sorts of methods to nudge ourselves to a more present state. One significant piece of my own personal outside world is my dog, Rocco. To put it bluntly, I love him to death. He always makes me smile and helps me forget whatever worry has been overwhelming my mind on a given day. I was thinking about him, and the larger infatuation many of us have with our pets, and suddenly it dawned on me—my dog is another one of the ways I nudge myself, often subconsciously, to get out of my head and live in the present. My dog teaches me mindfulness. The connection we have to our pets is multi-layered. No doubt, they provide us with companionship, unconditional love, snuggles and a great way to connect to other similarly passionate pet people. But there’s a deeper attachment that goes beyond the obvious. I propose a new theory—that we’re fanatically attached to our pets because they constantly teach us an important lesson about ourselves. Our pets take us out of our complicated adult lives for a moment, and back to a more mindful time—a time of youthful exuberance, a time before we were corrupted by the modern distracted world. They remind us of how we were then, and as such, remind us to try and a be little more like that again—right now. My dog Rocco is possibly the most zen being I know. He doesn’t worry about the future, except perhaps starting around four o’clock in the afternoon, when he knows dinner is imminent. He doesn’t stress over the decisions he makes, for instance—choosing which sunbeam to sleep in. He doesn’t regret his mistakes, even after tearing apart one of his favorite toys. He’s always enthusiastic when I take him on his morning walk, even if he had to wait while I procrastinated on Facebook. He jumps for joy at every treat, even if he’d always rather have bacon. He accepts all the snuggles and love I give, not worried about what other thing he might be missing out on. He’s also a big part of my favorite trick to get more mindful—nature. I hike a few times a week. The trails provide me with a level of exercise that keeps me physically fit and a level of peace and beauty that keeps me mentally fit. I often take Rocco on these hikes, and rather than take away from the moment of zen the wild gives me, he adds a whole new layer of zen that only enhances the experience. The exuberance he displays when I untether his leash adds to the exuberance I feel when I untether from the stress of city life. His curiosity to explore a new landscape—the trees, shrubs, vistas, wildlife and of course smells—brings me to a more mindfully aware state that bleeds into the rest of my day, on the trail and off. His consistent desire to stay close to me as we hike brings me an understanding of uncorrupted loyalty that I can carry with me into the human relationships of my everyday life. As a hiking partner, not only is he good at keeping up with my pace, he’s good at setting the pace for a mindful existence. I could go on and on, but you get the point. Rocco is my little yogi zen master. He doesn’t tell me how to live my life, but instead, he provides an example of a simpler way to live. Obviously, not all dogs are the same, and maybe I’m just lucky to have such an interested and present pooch. But I do think most dogs, most cats (I grew up with many) and most pets in general, have all these qualities to some degree. And it’s for those reasons we’re so drawn to them. When I’m feeling down, angry, stressed or worried about the future, I can look at Rocco and see a better way—a more simple, honest, mindful way. Maybe this is one of the reasons I love him so much. We’re all complicated humans, so it’s unrealistic to expect to live our lives with the same sincerity as our pets. It’s the cross of self-awareness we have to bear as a species. But that doesn’t mean we can’t learn from our furry companions—that we can’t take a moment to be with them in the moment, or that we can’t take the smile they give us and carry it with us as we go about our convoluted day. In that way, our pets are giving us the gift of mindfulness all the time. It’s up to us if we choose to accept it. Never Say Never
10/22/2015
I don't believe in finites: that is, the use of words we use to profess an emotion or opinion we believe will never change.
I have a little trouble with the words "best" and "worst" because in reality our perspective and experience in life is always changing. It's always possible that something can be better or worse in the future than whatever's happening right now. Something I think is the best or worst ever, is really just the best or worst so far. But possibly my least favorite finite is "never." How can you, in all seriousness, say you'll never do this or never try that? Are you channeling a psychic that suddenly enables you to predict the future? Are you so rigid that you know even in 30 years time you'll never change your mind, your tastes won't evolve, your world won't expand. Whatever you think you'd never do is merely a product of where you are now, and the only way that now is the be all/end all, is if you die right this second... ... ... But you didn't die did you? You're still here, living another now. It's just a few seconds after the last now, but it's still a new now. You're a few seconds older and a few seconds wiser, and in any given second - in any given situation, conversation, or experience - your mind could change on any number of things. I don't pretend to know what I'll be like 30 years from now. I'll be me, of course, but I'll have 30 more years of life to draw on. 30 more years of trying new things. 30 more years of getting out of my comfort zone. 30 more years to change my mind. Today I could say I will never skydive. I'll never climb Mount Everest. I'll never eat durian fruit. I'll never visit Antarctica. All possible "nevers" for me. But what if somewhere down the line I change my mind? What if I hike Mount Whitney here in California and love it? So then I take on Denali in Alaska and really catch the climbing bug. Then, despite just watching the harrowing movie Everest where (spoiler alert) pretty much everyone dies, I decide my life goal is to stand at the highest peak on planet earth. What if a series of decisions I make alters my mind on this or any number of opinions I have about things I'd "never" do? Honestly, right now I can't see myself ever having a desire to climb Everest (take a deep breath, mom). I love hiking and I've already put together a list of mountains I want to climb, but I'm also risk averse and exceptionally uninterested in dying at a young age. Despite that, I still can't use the word "never" here, just like I can't ever use it anywhere. My thoughts on Everest are just my current opinion. I am well aware that many of my opinions will change over time, and this could be one of them. Rather than make bold statements of certainty, I choose to mindfully live in the present and fully acknowledge that each moment is another experience that alters my future. I can never know if anything really is a "never," so I choose to never say never again. Need vs. Want
9/17/2015
Most of the things we purchase in life can be categorized as either a "need" or a "want."
I need water. I need food. I need sleep. I need a roof over my head. Compared to, say... I want to drink wine. I want to eat cheeseburgers. I want a Tempurpedic sleep number bed. I want a Spanish style or mid-century in Silverlake with a pool, Jacuzzi, Meyer lemon trees, space for a sizable vegetable garden, and views of the Hollywood sign. But you can't always get what you want, or so they say. We live in a consumer wasteland of a civilization. The line between what we want and what is actually needed is more blurred than ever. Like Veruca Salt, we want the goose that lays the golden egg and a bean feast. Don't care how, we want it now. And that said, there's absolutely nothing wrong with buying things that make you happy, even if you don't really need them. Life's short and most of us aren’t living on a hippie commune. There's nothing wrong with a good "treat yo self" once in a while. You're worth it. For the last few years I've tried, and sometimes succeeded, in pausing for a moment to differentiate a need vs. a want when I'm deciding whether to buy something. To think about my motivation for buying something. It's never easy. I'm an Amazon Prime member, and the free two-day shipping along with generally cut rate prices leads to many temptations. Do I need the new sleeveless navy running shirt, or is that a want? Do I want the California flag luggage tag, or is that a need? Is it even worth my time considering the question or should I just get them both because they’ll make me happy? Those are both actual items I did and didn't purchase, and I still can't totally answer the need vs want question for them. Life isn’t black and white - it’s gray that way. One reason I enjoy camping so much is to test the limits of my internal need vs. want debate. When you strip off many of your daily comforts and live simply, plainly, unambiguously, need starts to hold a lot more weight than want. Storage space is limited, and you have to carry things back and forth from car to campsite, so you start to prioritize. The things you don’t need become clutter. Other items become requirements. Each time I’ve camped I’ve whittled my pack down, getting rid of the silly camping toys in order to save space and energy for the tools I actually need. I’m about ready to dabble in actual backpacking, carrying everything you need on your back, so this thought process will become that much more important. The difference between camping and our everyday life is, of course, quite stark. There’s a lot more room for wanted, but not needed, items in the modern world. But the lessons of simplicity you gain out in nature are still just as relevant. The task of thinking about what I need vs what I want helps me prioritize my life. It gives me a better appreciation for the things I already have, the things most of us have that make life easy, comfy, and fun. Beyond “things,” it helps me to better appreciate life, a lesson I hope to remember the next time I think my charmed existence is going so terribly that I literally can't even. When you’re about to buy something, think about it… is it a “need” or a “want?” Notice how that simple activity makes you see your world in a new light. Searching... for Mindfulness
9/9/2015
There’s that moment when you switch off airplane mode on your phone and the only message you see in the upper-corner, coverage indicator area is “Searching…” It’s the moment when you're about to reconnect from whatever escape you were just on. The moment you return from whatever forced you to disconnect in the first place, be it from going to a movie, hiking or camping in the mountains, or maybe actually being on an airplane. For me, it’s the moment I switch from the relative calm of searching for myself in the real world, back to the unending search for signals and distractions in digital world. I write a lot about distraction and disconnection here, not because I’ve got it all figured out, but because it’s an issue I struggle with, especially with finding a balance between the two. It’s way too easy for me to get on my phone and spend hours on mindless tasks, and when I say hours it's no exaggeration. One Google search easily turns into ten, twenty, thirty. One article turns into a clickhole of largely meaningless and depressing news information gathering. A momentary check of Facebook quickly turns into an hour of “just scroll a little bit more!” Most days, being on my phone is the first thing I do in the morning, the last thing I do at night, and the thing I do many times in between to pass the time. All of this is just a way I trick my mind into thinking it’s being productive, when in reality most of what I’m doing is entirely inconsequential. Worse, these are all things that take away from the time I could be doing something real, like writing this blog, or hiking, or connecting with friends, or applying for jobs, or calling my mother. So when I disconnect, it’s for a purpose. When I disconnect, I do it so I can go searching instead.… Searching for mindfulness. Searching for my thoughts. Searching for meaning. Searching for me. Not long ago I came back down the mountain from an excellent camping trip with a group of some of my closest friends. When we got close to the valley floor I switched off airplane mode and immediately began staring at that “Searching…” message in the upper corner, intently waiting for all those bars and signals to escort me back to the modern world. But after a 10 second attempt, it gave me the “No Service” message instead of bars. I was disappointed, of course. I was eager to post to Instagram and Facebook to share with you all the majesty of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, John Muir’s Range of Light. But then I remembered “Searching…” When my phone was in airplane mode that weekend, instead of searching for a signal the whole time, I was doing the searching instead. It allowed me to read and spend quiet time with my own thoughts. It allowed me to share my love of camping with friends who hadn’t been in ages. It allowed me to watch as those friends’ eyes opened to the lessons of comfort, distraction, and expectation that come from the remote camping experience. It allowed us all to be present with each other in a way we’ve never been before, to bond in ways you can’t predict or replicate. When I let my device do the searching, that means I’m searching for a way out. An excuse to be somewhere else. To add yet another method of distraction to my over-complicated world. When I do the searching myself, that means I’m finally living. I switched my phone back into airplane mode. This was the last moment of disconnection I would have for a while. It was our last moments together without all those distractions. Our last moments in the real world. And besides, I didn’t have a signal anyway. Phone coverage will come and go, but what are you really searching for? Are you searching for a constant digital connection using a combination of letters and pictures, or a perhaps more intermittent but deeper and more direct connection with those you actually care about? Are you searching for a following of 1,000 on Instagram, or a following of 10 real friends who actually mean something to you? Are you searching for more “likes,” or real love? One Year In ~ We Are All Journeymen
7/1/2015
"A journey isn't about expectation, it's about discovery." ~mindfulness now A year ago today I launched Mindfulness Now. Boy does it make me happy to type that. When I started this blog I had no idea where I’d be in life at this point. That’s always the case though. No matter how much we love to speculate, life just changes. Did I know that in one year I would write 80 individual posts, collect over 35,000 pageviews, and get published in a pretty major online mindfulness website? I only dreamed of it. When I started this I wasn’t even sure if my close friends would pay attention, let alone 14,000 unique visitors (/humblebrag). Did I know a year ago that this experience would lead me to quit my job so I could write and explore full-time? It wasn’t even on my radar. A funny thing happens when you get out of your comfort zone and follow your passion, instead of just going through the motions of life. A year ago there were a number of things I hoped to get out of writing this blog. I wasn't exactly sure what I would find, but I'm trying not to fear the unknown so much these days. Now a year later, I’d like to believe all of these hopes came to fruition, or are at least in the process of growing their fruit. Hope #1: Learn about myself by sharing a piece of myselfI had written in some form of a journal for years prior to this blog. Some of my first posts on this page were actual retreads of journal entries I'd written privately over the last few years. It’s one thing though to write to yourself -- to take an idea that the world uncovers, filter it through your own mind, and put it on paper. It’s something entirely different to take those words a step further and put them out there on a website for all to see. My introspective musings did help me to a degree, but it wasn’t until I started posting them here that I really began to really listen to them. Now that I was stating my ideas publicly, I felt pressure to stick to them. The blog kept me honest, grounded, and in touch with those around me. Most of the feedback I heard was inspiring, and by inspiring others it inspired me to write more. The ideas I posted here suddenly held more weight in my own mind, and I was finally sticking to them. HOPE #2 - Explore a new idea and see if it becomes a passionThe change in my mind was potent. I didn’t have to be restricted to one place, one thought, one group, or one desk. Writing made me feel free from the chains that society had put on me, and that I myself continued to wear. This new found passion around writing spurred other related passions as well. Most notably, a passion for nature and outdoor activity. It spurred a renewal in old passions too, for things like music and dogs. I have found a new and renewed set of joys, instruments that take me beyond my normal sphere. I found the start of a new path forward. I found my voice. Quite frankly, I found myself. HOPE #3 - Gain confidenceFinding that voice was a big deal. I tend to prefer things easy in life -- I search for comfort and routine and avoid conflict if I can. I like to think of myself as a peacemaker, but too often my peacefulness would morph into passivity. I would allow my life to pass by without really making an effort. Writing this blog became the effort that I needed. It pushed me out of my comfort zone and into a public eye where confidence was required. The process hasn't always been easy. Sometimes I feel like I'm overstepping. Some of my ideas have been questioned. Sometimes a friend would worry that a post was about them, even though I can assure you I would never single anyone out. But finally, despite it all, I pushed forward with confidence. I pushed forward in life. I stopped listening to the negative. The sympathetic voices who got it, externally and internally, became louder than the voices of dissent. I’m still working on this one and I figure I always will. But I'm so appreciative to have found an outlet that is taking me in the right direction. HOPE #4 - Improve as a writerAs much as I always enjoyed writing to myself, even way back when, I hesitated in publishing this blog. I spent months fretting over it. Fear held me back. I’ve found though that posting your words in a public space is a whole new motivation to write better. My private journal entries were free-flowing, riddled with inconsistencies, and lacking in structure. This blog required me to start looking at my writing with an increasingly keen eye. There’s something about putting your feet to fire that forces you to learn more about fires and feet. I’ve learned as much about my own style and how to set myself up for a good writing session, as I’ve learned what people are drawn to, what they like to hear, and especially what they need hear. I am certain the English majors of the bunch will find all sorts of errors in my writing, and that's OK. When I look back at blogs I wrote last summer, I definitely see an improvement, and for now that’s enough for me -- to keep improving. HOPE #5 - Become more mindfulThis is clearly the biggest hope I had from creating this blog -- it's in the title afterall. Mindfulness is the blood flowing through the veins of this space. Mindfulness now weaves it’s way into all my thoughts...and thank god, because I needed it.
I had read about mindfulness and attempted to integrate it into my life for years. But like most great ideas in life, it's easier said than done. I would tell myself to live in the present moment, to let go of the drama, worry, and anxiety, but when I inevitably failed I would scream at myself on the inside. I knew better, yet I still made mistakes. I couldn’t follow my own advice. But here I am one year later, and light-years down my path. I am far from perfect, lord knows. I still struggle with these issues every day. But I believe I have indeed become more mindful in the last year. I’m more in-tune with myself, better able to handle life’s ups and downs, to reduce my distractions (digital or otherwise), to be more patient with my response, to disconnect more often, be smarter about my decisions, and braver when it comes to the difficult ones. Starting Mindfulness Now was possibly the best thing I’ve ever done for myself, and I can’t totally take credit for it because the idea came from Leo Babauta on his bellwether mindfulness blog Zen Habits. Also, gratitude goes to those friends and family who I discussed it with beforehand, for their support and especially the title suggestions. All of that, all of them, all of you, all of the last year, all of my life, have led me to where I am now...someone who is learning, growing, passionate, confident, and just a little bit more mindful in the process. This is why I call myself a journeyman (and not just for the solo camping journey hashtag). A journeyman is someone who is educated but not yet a master. I know a good deal about the tool of mindfulness, but I’m still learning how to use it every day. I might argue that we are all journeymen. I might argue that no one is ever a true master, because we’re all always learning. I might argue that this is one of my favorite things about life. I now have a few years of mindfulness experience under my belt, one year that you’ve been privy to. Thinking about how far I’ve come in the last year with this blog gives me joy. Thinking of how far I’ll go throughout the journey of my life kind of blows my mind. And I can't wait to tell you all about it. Instant reaction...
Why do we feel the need to post about every story, jump on every bandwagon, opine on every creation, and respond to every comment? Life doesn't happen in an instant, it develops slowly over time. Whatever your reaction now, it will undoubtedly change later. But instead of giving yourself the space to dwell on your thoughts, to give them real consideration, we quickly post it, permanently attaching it to our public persona. As if that instant and unnuanced reaction is somehow fixed. Instant gratification... Why do we expect to see an instant reaction every time we post a story, jump on a bandwagon, opine on a creation, or respond to a comment? Life doesn't happen in an instant, it develops slowly over time. Whatever people's immediate response may be, it will change. But instead of giving them the space to thoughtfully react to our screed, we wait impatiently for a like or a share. We let ourselves feel deflated when the response is quiet. We backtrack on something we found important and delete a post, simply because not enough people decided to give you an instant pat on the back. Ideas are a tortoise, not a hare. I call for patience. Next time you have an immediate gut reaction, think on it for 30 minutes instead of immediately saying it. Notice how your feelings change over time. Notice how that instant reaction feels extreme after the patience of time softens the sharp edges. Next time your saying something, wait on reaction without expectation. Notice how your confidence grows over time. Notice how that instant gratification becomes less important after the patience of time strengthens your self-worth. “We need the tonic of wildness. At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.” ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden Nature is my therapy.
It feels like I met my therapist only recently, taking on weekly therapy sessions in the local mountains. But when I really think about it, I realize I've slowly discovered her over the course of my whole life. She was there all along, as a seminal component of my upbringing and a quiet docent leading me into adulthood. Nature has helped me figure out life, long before I realized life needed figuring. Growing up, I lived in an area of California with a lot of open space--rolling oak-dotted hills, peaceful babbling creeks, stunning rocky shorelines, open fields of grapes, horses, and cattle. I think California is the most naturally beautiful spot on the planet, and the Central Coast is the heart of that beauty. I was extremely lucky to spend my first 18 years on there. Though truth be told, you would never have heard me say any of that when I was a kid. I didn't truly appreciate that beauty as a teenager--all I wanted was to live in the big city. We regularly traveled to Southern California to visit family and Los Angeles was where I absolutely had to be. Big freeways, big buildings, lots of lights, rap music, grit, cement. Its endless possibilities scared me, but that fear bred excitement, and excitement was what I wanted in life. Now that I actually live in Los Angeles, and have for some 17 years now, I know I was right--I do love the city life. But living in the city also gave me a gift that I never anticipated--an appreciation for the beauty of my hometown. A real appreciation for wide open spaces. Nature, forests, creeks, rivers, fields, weeds, wildlife, quiet, calmness, and all the things that you find in small town life are all just as important to me now as the excitement I find in the city. They balance one another. Without my ability to explore all the gorgeous natural wonders California has to offer, or to simply visit my mother back on the Central Coast, I'm pretty sure Los Angeles would drive me insane. So I go into nature as often as I can. I go to find stillness, where all I can hear are the birds chirping and leaves rustling. I go to find peace and get away from my everyday stress. I go to soak in the natural majesty of the world around us. I go to feel small, and really understand the insignificance of my personal dramedies. I go to spend a few hours with myself so I can think/reflect/process. I go to find myself. Therapy, to me at least, is pretty much the same thing--taking the time to think/reflect/process--except with a paid professional. The training and expertise of a professional therapy experience shouldn't be underestimated. They can guide you to unexplored areas of your mind, encourage you to ask the right questions of yourself, help you to open the doors on your life you might otherwise choose to lock up. I'm 100% certain I could also benefit from a real trained therapist. But in the meantime, I have Dr. Earth, and she usually does a pretty good job. The more time I spend in nature the more I am able to deal with life and all its complexities. The more time I spend in nature the more I learn to distance myself from distractions. The more time I spend in nature the more I understand that not everything needs to be perfect. The more time I spend in nature the more I realize there's so much I don't know. The more time I spend in nature the better I feel, and isn't that the point of therapy? Practice Appreciation
3/20/2015
Published elsewhere on Medium.com/jasonjourneyman There's something about going without that makes you appreciate life more.
Recently, I was holed up, stuck at home for 12 days in intense pain after a tonsillectomy. Because of it, I was forcibly deprived of numerous things: food, water, exercise, and social activities, to name a few. I was definitely, well, going without. Before the surgery, not entirely realizing what I was getting into, but I had some expectations. It kind of felt like I was preparing for a little vacation—a week or so off work, no social pressures. "This is going to be fun!" I thought. I was however a little bit worried about FOMO as well. I don't always do so well when I'm stuck at home with a cold on a Saturday night—I want to be out having fun with everyone else, obviously. Pretty much everything I expected about this experience turned out to be wrong though. It was certainly not a vacation... I was a dazed from medications and suffering from pain, not relaxing in any sense. I didn't have an ounce of FOMO either... going out and seeing friends sounded like torture. I didn't necessarily want to be stuck at home, but there was also no other place I'd rather be. My expectations were way off base, but that left room for the unexpected, and the biggest thing I didn't plan on was how appreciative I would feel when it was all over. The physical pain brought me to a place of sadness and despair that I had never really felt before. But it's always darkest before the dawn. Feeling so incredibly low meant that the next time I was up it would feel that much higher. The happiness and appreciation I felt after returning to my normal schedule was unparalleled. I didn't let the little things bother me, I was just happy to be, happy to see my friends, happy for the ability to eat a sandwich. I stopped feeling FOMO. I had, after all, just spent a few weeks stuck in the house "missing out" on things, and guess what, the world didn't end. I become more confident in my decisions. The forced independence created by having to take care of my sick self, bled into every other independent decision I made. This new perspective of gratefulness I'm feeling is something I want to keep with me, to practice, to reuse again and again in the future. I want to remember this experience for the next time I think life sucks. So here I am, writing it down, building an appreciation memorial. I'm not suggesting you put yourself through a tortuously painful surgery to gain a new perspective. You actually don't need to, because at some point in life we all encounter physical or emotional pain. It takes you to a dark place and it ain't fun. But if you choose, you can use the pain to your benefit, use it as a lesson, use it to inspire. Each up and down in life is an opportunity. With practice, with experience, with mindfulness to understand and process how you feel, you learn how to smooth out the ride. When you're feeling down, take a moment to remember that it will get better. You know it'll get better because you've been there before. Remember? Write it all down, how you're feeling, all the things that are shitty AND all the things for which you're grateful. When you're on the other side, when life is good and you're happy, it's also OK to remember that you will feel pain again. That's OK because that's real. Write it all down, all the good things you're feeling, build your own appreciation memorial. Both the ups and downs of life teach us how to survive. They are a yin and yang—they create balance. So just be yourself, feel your feels, write it all down, learn from it, and remember to appreciate life, every stupid second of it. Distraction
2/6/2015
We live in a world of a million options. At any given moment, there are a tons of different things we could be doing. On Facebook alone (at least on my newsfeed) I could spend all day following links, watching youtube videos, exploring photo albums, listening to music, commenting, liking, posting, ad nauseum. It truly is a clickhole.
But what am I really accomplishing by spending my time this way? The answer is... nothing, I'm accomplishing mostly nothing at all. Sure, it keeps me up to date on the latest news from my friends and family. It fills me in on current events and Hollywood gossip, giving me something to talk about when I'm out in the real world. So there is some value to it. But as far as my personal growth, my forward progress, I'm lost. Any benefit from it is easily negated by the damage done to all the other parts of my life that I'm neglecting. As with most things, there's both a good and bad side to this. I wrote this blog post some weeks ago while I was on a plane, and as I typed away I was repeatedly distracted by the gorgeous view outside my window of California's bright green, rolling hills and epic, snow capped Sierra Nevada mountains. This was a good distraction. Taking a moment marvel in the beauty of nature is never a waste. But then what about those times when you spend a few hours trolling around Facebook instead of getting on that writing project you've been meaning to tackle. Or when you play a video game all day instead of going on that hike with your friends. Or you when you stay home night after night watching mindless "reality" TV shows instead of engaging in the actual reality that's all around you. I believe in balance, so there's absolutely nothing wrong with distractions up to a certain point. Life shouldn't be all serious all the time--ugh, that would totally suck--but life isn't just a bunch of fun and games either. The serious parts of life are the lessons, the growing pains, all the conversations and questions that are a central part of who we are as humans. The fun times are there too for a much needed mental break, to lighten the load so we can recharge before going back to this meaningful business we call life. Figure out a way to engage in both sides. Do it even when real world stuff hurts a little bit. Push yourself to get away from the comfort of distractions and out into the life-affirming waters of the present. It may be difficult at first, but I swear, in the end, you'll be happy with the results. Imagine your day is an empty container. It has a finite capacity, a mere 24 hours, a third of which is taken up by sleep (that is, if you're able to sleep). There's only so much you can fit into this brief space of time, only so much you can do with this small moment of your existence. How will you choose to fill this container? Will you choose to fill it with: family, friendships, relationships, aspirations, physical and mental well-being, learning, hoping, and growing? All the noble things in life that you know you should be doing, but you don't always necessarily do. Or will you choose to fill it with: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, TV, video games, trashy articles, click-bait, gossip, alcohol, and drugs? All the distracting things in life that you do, but you know you shouldn't necessarily be doing. There's definitely room for moderation here—trust me, I'm no prude. Distractions are easy, they feel good, and can be a much needed break from the weight of life. If done right, if done in balance, distractions aren't all that bad. It's up to you. If you choose to spend some time in the morning catching up with friends and reading articles on Facebook, great! But set a limit for yourself. If you won't keep to your limit, try the Stay Focused app for Chrome, that automatically locks you out of Facebook—or any other site—based on your own set of rules. And try turning off notifications or even deleting the mobile app so you aren't so easily drawn back into the clickhole. It's up to you. If you choose to go out to the bar, have fun! But set a limit for yourself. It's one thing to have a go out and let loose, set aside your stresses for a night, and foster stronger friendships. It's another thing to let that fun night ruin the next day with a hangover. With both the noble things and the distracting things, choose balance. That way you can both enjoy life and accomplish something in life, which is really what our ultimate goal should be. How will you choose to fill it up your container today? I’ll be honest, I’m not really a fan of New Year’s resolutions. If we are the thoughtful, sentient beings we claim to be, shouldn't we be able to make a change in our life any day we choose? That change is up to us, not a calendar.
But I also know it’s important to people. The end of one year and start of another (even if the calendar was semi-arbitrarily determined by some Romans a few thousand years ago) is a milestone in our society. A milestone like New Year's can be a trigger that encourages us to better ourselves, and that’s always a good thing, That is, if it’s done right. There are a number of problems that can come from relying on a date like New Year’s to trigger a set of big life changes. Here are 3 big ones:
So if you're currently working through the starting phases of a New Years resolution, and by all means do, be smart about it:
How to Stay Balanced
11/11/2014
I believe in balance.
There's a yin and yang to life. Sometimes you're happy, sometimes sad. The summer is hot, the winter is cold. One year it floods, the other brings a drought. To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. I know this might seem clichéd and basic, but typically... most of the time... if you're patient... things even out. That balance is as much a part of the natural order of things as it is a part of your mindset. In the middle of the yin of a depressing time it's hard to imagine that the yang of happiness exists, but if you can take one moment to realize that this too will pass, that's the one moment of hope that will set you on the path towards joy again. Expecting balance is one thing you can do to stay present. Pursuing balance directly is another way to help get you there. You get to determine the path you will take every day. You get to choose whether or not your life has balance. There are three paths... you could give into all of your desires and eat fried chicken, cheeseburgers, and poutine every day. You could also torture yourself eating only quinoa, kale, and tofu. OR you could strike a balance, learning to enjoy fresh vegetables for all their benefits while also allowing yourself to enjoy life and indulge in a gravy soaked french fry once in a while. Three paths... you could spend all day updating, commenting, liking, favoriting, and reading articles on Facebook and Twitter. You could also cut yourself off from the world, ignoring messages from friends and the day's news. OR you could strike a balance, using social media to connect and engage but then turning it off when it becomes a distraction and it's time to get work done. Yin and yang. Life in balance. Everything in moderation. When you decide to strike a balance, when you make a conscious effort to enjoy both sides of life without overdoing either, that balance slowly becomes the norm. The extremes of your life that caused guilt and anxiety are washed away by your new, even, easygoing, balanced mindset. Travel Light
8/21/2014
"When you travel lightly, you're freer, less burdened, less tired. This applies to life, not just travel." ~Leo Babauta, ZenHabits.net Staying home is easy, it's familiar, it's what you know. Your bed, your pillow, your neighborhood, your friends. Go ahead and build that nest around you. It's the support and foundation you need to push yourself to new heights.
Travel is also important. It gets you out of your comfort zone. You meet new people, learn about new cultures, taste new cuisines. You see life from a different perspective, and hopefully it changes your own perspective as a result. But like many things in the digital age, travel also creates a mindfulness dilemma. Everybody's carrying a device in their pocket that has the ability to take pictures and immediately share them with the world. Instead of telling your friends about your trip when you get home, you can tell them in real-time. It's truly groundbreaking, but it's also a burden. Constantly connecting to the digital world when you could be exploring the real world is like lugging around an extra heavy suitcase. Every time you pause to post a status update about your experience, you're stopping that experience in its tracks. When you're physically in an exciting new locale - relaxing on a tropical beach, exploring a beautiful city, spending quality time with family and friends - why would you want to mentally be somewhere else? Mindfulness isn't something you only practice at home or at work, it's a way of being. Travel is perhaps the most important place to find mindfulness. I'm not saying you should never post an update from your vacation. In fact, post as much and as freely as you want. Just avoid social media when it takes away from the experience itself. I choose to travel light. I'll make a conscious effort to stay in the moment. Sure, I'll post a Facebook/Twitter/Instagram update from time to time, that's the age we live in, but never at the expense of my experience. If you really want to relax when you travel, then be there... live, in person, wherever you are with whomever you're with. Explore your new surroundings with all your heart. Soak up every moment. Make it count. You can always log on and share the moment with your friends later. |
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blog searchauthorMy name is Jason Wise. Life's all about the journey, man. Find me on Instagram and Facebook. archives
May 2020
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