Manage Your Mind

In a Zen way, I'm tempted to say: not time management, not productivity management, not energy management, not purpose management.  Instead manage the state of your mind. 

Marc Lesser 

I agree that, with God's help, we should concentrate on managing ourselves and our ever-roving, ever-fearful minds.  I also read a similar thought that we should not call our efforts to keep calm and centered "stress management," but rather "peace management." 

So many quotes I've put on my Pinterest boards on Tranquility, Simple Living and From God's Lips echo this idea: 

"Never be in a hurry. Do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset." - Francis de Sales

"If we practice mindfulness, we always have a place to be when we are afraid." - Thich Nhat Hanh 

"Inner peace begins the moment you choose not to allow another person or event to control your emotions." 

"Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace." - Dalai Lama 

"Peace is not the absence of troubles, but the presence of Christ." - Sheila Walsh 

Why Do This?

Today as I made a Crockpot version of Sunday gravy with pasta ... it was heavenly ... I realized that I have some specific reasons for focusing on a slowed down life of Christian mindfulness.  I want to feel as content as the monkey in the selfie.

1. I can enjoy cooking again.  No longer am I tearing through the kitchen, taking every shortcut possible to get dinner on the table in 30 minutes.  Even if dinner is a little later, I will enjoy the sights and the smells.  I even cut up a pineapple today to get some fruit, which hasn't happened probably since I had my first child 32 years ago. 
2. My blood pressure may actually stay low. This year's stress included some unpleasant physical symptoms for the first time:  blood pressure jumping all over the place, a numb thumb and vertigo. Being more intentional may actually keep my blood pressure where it needs to be.
3. I have time to think more creatively.  Instead of Solve the Problem, Solve the Problem, I can take time to think and come up with a creative solution. 
4. I can feel the Lord's presence.  This weekend the Lord has been prompting me to pray more specifically to feel his presence and to rest in it.  He has plans for me, and I'm willing to let Him take the lead. 
5. I'm not afraid ... at least when I am awake.  We may be facing a major life change, and mindfulness has allowed me to take one day at a time while we wait to see what happens.  I may still have nightmares about it, but the days are placid. 

A Slow New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve is a day and night filled with mindfulness.  It's really one of the first holidays that I addressed with intention, and habits that I developed decades ago still work well today.

On New Year's Eve, we begin by reading our journals for the year.  One year it made me realize how sick I was of my own whining. Another awful year, I could barely stand to review the pain of it all. But most years, I see fun and frustration in the written words.  I remember lessons learned, and it helps me to set intentions for the coming year.

Then, triumphs and crap-fests of the year fresh in our minds, we write out our Good Riddance lists.  Those are clearly the things we hated the most about the year.  We burn them in an ashtray left over from the old cigar days.  Then it's onward and upward.  Dinner includes unlimited potato chips and caviar.

Lately we have ended the day by attending the New Year's Eve Night Watch at our church ... which goes from 10:30 to midnight.  The sermon is powerful, the music is beautiful, and we pray and worship our way into the next years.

A Mindful Thanksgiving

I Googled "mindful Thanksgiving" and got plenty of advice - everything from "watch water boil" to "don't skip breakfast." Some of it was pretty good.

For example, Karen Maezen Miller suggested that you know where food comes from ("Kroger" doesn't count) and make a traditional family recipe.  Alexis Conason, Psy.D., called Thanksgiving "socially sanctioned binge eating" and suggested we savor every bite.

I choose to make Thanksgiving about gratitude, and that makes it a great holiday for me, no matter how anyone else acts.  Here are 10 thoughts:

1. Give money to the homeless shelter, and be thankful you're not living there.
2. Write out a list of your blessings.
3. Send Thanksgiving cards to the people who have been a blessing to you this year.  (And it doesn't have to be people you know.  If a blogger or writer or musician has kept you going, send a card!) 
4. Write out a list of reasons that you love your family members. 
5. Accept reality about Thanksgiving gatherings, and try to be amused, rather than disgusted (as Elvis Costello would say), about the goings-on. 
6. Spend time in nature unless nature is being brutal. 
7. Give your full attention to preparing food and infuse it with gratitude. 
8. Go to a church and thank God for your life. 
9. Adopt a World Vision child who needs your love and support.
10. Take breaks to breathe, pray and check in with yourself. 

When Christ Displaces Worry at the Center of Your Life

It is wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.

Philippians 4, The Message 

The Message translation of Philippians 4, in Eugene Peterson's Remix: Pause, a Daily Reading Bible, ends with this statement.  "This selection leaves you with a couple of assignments:  turn your worries into prayer, and meditate on God's best rather than on the ugly things of the world.

As Peterson translates it:  You'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious - the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.  

For me, taking capture every thought is so very hard.  It would be impossible without mindfulness.  How often before my practice did my mind go racing with me completely unaware that I could control its direction.  

Garbage in, garbage out, they say.  So mindfulness, plus a conscious effort to see and hear what is good, helps.  Conscious turning of the mind to praise, gratitude and petition also helps.  At some point, I pray my mind will be less of an out-of-control sled on an icy hill,  and more of a walk in the woods. 

The Day Begins

Perhaps it would be a good idea, fantastic as it sounds, to muffle every telephone, stop every motor and halt activity for an hour someday to give people a change to ponder for a few minutes on what it is all about, why they are living and what they really want. 

- James Truslow Adams

Is there anything better than Sunday afternoon in the three-day weekend?  Perhaps there is an hour to ponder about life, to think about what you really want and to prioritize. 

Even organization books call on you to list your top priorities and then evaluate your schedule against them. So what does the day look like if your top priority is to be conscious of the presence of God moment by moment?  It involves staying in the moment, step by step.  But without handrails, my steps would soon go off course. 

The intention to stay on course was undoubtedly the inspiration for the Liturgy of the Hours and other forms of monastic scheduling. I have adapted some of the ideas behind this to help me stay on course.  

It starts in the morning. When I awake, I do reach out to the Lord and remind myself that "This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it."  I wake early because we do 20 to 30 minutes of centering prayer followed by reading aloud from both the Old and New Testaments.  I pray over my schedule and take a moment to write a sentence or two in my prayer journal.  On days when we are able, I prepare a tranquil breakfast with love and we share it. 

The day begins.

The Music of the Night

Walking mindfully outdoors, even from my car to the office door, has helped me to hear some of the sounds of my childhood:  my friends, the crickets. We didn't have air conditioning when I was growing up.  We also didn't have the fear that causes people, including me, to lock things up tight at night.

As a child, when I went to bed in summer, the light was just starting to dim.  I heard crickets.  The fan in the room.  And my parents talking outside on the patio.

Listening mindfully at night, I can go back to those times when I felt perfectly safe with the windows wide open. Then I bring myself back into the present moment, and I know I am safer than I realize.