Mindfulness – in practice

I love to tweak recipes. Sure, there is an occasional flop or wish-I-hadn’t-done-that but when I get something right it rocks my world.  Adding cardamom to a ginger cookie was one of those moments. 

I bring this up because I want you to know I am not a person opposed to change, or at least that’s what I thought.  With the pandemic sweeping through the world, I’m being forced to change.  It’s not a matter of simply tweaking anymore and I can feel myself resisting. 

I talk a lot about “kneading” life by giving thoughtful attention to ingredients, the process of mixing them together, and the need to stop kneading so that yeast can do the work of digesting to help the dough to rise.  Pausing to allow the yeast to do its thing naturally, organically is an essential part that can’t be skipped or rushed along. 

In the midst of social-distancing, ingredients are changing.  In a literal sense, I can’t find bread flour at our local grocery and there’s no point in being a yeast-hoarder when others need it. Some people, like my daughter-in-law, have taken up bread baking during the shutdown so why not share?  I have enough and there is nothing that a few tweaks haven’t been able to fix in the kitchen.

But.

In a metaphoric sense my life’s ingredients are changing, too, and a few simple tweaks are not cutting it. When schools closed and I started remotely teaching 6th graders the world turned up the heat, stirred in a cup or two of mixed nuts, and moved the lever on the mixer to high speed. 

I have kneaded in more screen time to see my students, more screen time to communicate with parents, and more screen time to meet with my peers.  I have even added in a virtual craft club because some of the 11-year-olds I work with just want, need, to be together.

It’s not just what’s being added in that’s changing the texture. Some of my staple ingredients are dwindling: a good night’s sleep, long chats over bagels at the coffee shop.  Poof.  Gone. 

At what point do I stop adding and changing ingredients so that, like yeast, I might be able to digest? 

Whoever named the virtual platform, ZOOM, got it right.  In all the social distancing and shut-downs how is it possible to feel like I’ve innocently been swept up into some mad dash marathon!

Heck, I don’t even know where the finish line is but it’s Zoom, Zoom, Zoom every day!

When things are spinning out of control it is hard to stop motion.  It makes me grateful for small things I used to take for granted like Darrell asking, “You want to get outside and take Milo for a walk?”  

Walking the dog is not one more thing to do.  It is a life-preserver sailing through the air to bring me back to shore even if it means 6-feet and a face-mask away from giving our grandson a squeeze.

It reminds me to breathe and widen my gaze; to come back to not only what fills my time but fills my heart, my soul.  Without a chance to rest and rise, dough cannot transform into bread and neither can I reach my own potential.  

I’ve seen all kinds of life preservers being tossed to flailing swimmers. People are sewing masks, wine-fairies are sneaking about towns, donations are being made to help local businesses survive.  Every good intention matters.

You may not be a teacher but I’m willing to bet that your bowl, like mine, has been filled with ingredients you are not yet familiar with and you might be wondering how they’re going to affect the outcome.  May I suggest that you allow yourself to fold them in gently and put the spatula down when you need to.  It’s OK to not know.  It’s OK.

Pausing is not just part of the bread-making process.  Our seasons are set up so that winter offers a pause, a chance for renewal.  Even the life-force of our breath includes a pause.  Inhale.  Pause.  Exhale. Pause.  Try breathing without those pauses and see what happens! 

Pausing is a part of the natural order of the world offering its wisdom to each one of us. It’s meant to be an integrated part of our well-being especially in unprecedented times like we are in.

There is power in the pause that holds the potential for what naturally wants to rise, be seen, and be felt.  Often, it is the pause that guides us home to ourselves and to each other.  When we allow our world to settle even for a few moments the heart has room, again, to open.

Let’s hope those are some of the gifts we discover in the aftermath of this global pause.  Like adding cardamom to a ginger cookie, may we discover that in right proportion these new ingredients can make the world better than it was before.

Have some thoughts of your own to share about ways you’ve been taking care of your well-being or ways you’ve been finding time to pause?  Please feel free to share in the comments! Don’t forget to like or share this post if you enjoyed reading and follow us on our Facebook page:  Kneading Life/Mindful Homesteaders!

Older post you might also enjoy reading:

Gratitude 

Finding Balance