One Mississippi

You probably already know this, but it's hard to be in the present moment for more than five seconds. Ok, for more than three seconds. Ok, one Mississippi. That's about all I can muster in the present moment. And it's not for a lack of trying. Don't judge. Try it. See how long it takes for your mind to wander.

Right? How many Mississippis did you make it through before you were thinking about what you were going to do next?

I signed up for a "yoga intensive" 40 day program, which is based on a book by a particular figure in the yoga world. As I learned on the first day, it's a three-fold program involving daily yoga, nutrition, and meditation.

I'm all in for the yoga. The reason I signed up is so I would go to yoga daily and hopefully get stronger. And more flexible.

I have now read the nutrition component of the program. Nope. Not happening. It's not that I don't care about my diet. I do. Very much. I think quite a lot about what I put into my body and for what purposes. However, never at all ever do I think that the "cool" foods I eat (?) will make me sleep in the fetal position, be a more quiet person and make me have pale skin (which I do not), as opposed to the "hot" foods which might cause me to have problems sleeping and also make me prone to bad skin and a loud voice. Also, they might make me have a bad temper. WTF? (sorry--perhaps I ate to many "hot" foods this morning...)

I'm gonna need some hard scientific evidence to convince me that a particular food will cause me to speak in a louder voice. So no, not quite on board with the nutritional component. Which is fine. Yoga, as it turns out, is a very "take what you want, leave what you don't" kind of practice. I'm leaving the food part. (And to be honest, I'm not quite sure how food is even part of yoga, so I am feeling no guilt abandoning a complete third of this program)

Lastly, there is meditation. Full disclosure: I've never meditated. I've wanted to. I just never figured out the what and the how and the why. This program is, I am hoping, going to help me with that. I'd like to try meditation. The very first class began with the instructor doing a "guided meditation" for all of us.

Another full disclosure: As it turns out I'm really, really not good at meditation. Yet. It was a ten minute ordeal experience that felt endless to me. The purpose was to be in the present moment, with our minds cleared and our thoughts on only what we could actually physically feel and hear right then, at that moment. We were all seated criss-cross applesauce, and the teacher told us to take several deep breaths and try to just feel the air going in and going out--think about nothing but what our breaths felt like.

I did that. And then in the nanosecond it took the instructor to get to the next sequence I was thinking about how uncomfortable my lower back felt sitting criss-cross applesauce (the name of this position seems to me to indicate the age-level at which you should be sitting in this position; if retired adults were meant to sit this way it would be called "sad sack jack your back"). Anyway, this guided meditation continued, as we were prompted to empty our minds and only feel where our feet were touching the earth (feel them pressing in), and then to only feel where our calves were touching our mats, and our hands resting on our thighs... were were a solid four minutes in and we had only reached the thighs. I was trying. I really was. And while I was not being very successful at keeping my mind in the moment, I was definitely learning some things about myself.

(1) While I am generally an endlessly patient person, apparently I need to have a general inkling as to why I am being patient. I wasn't quite sure why I was trying to feel my thighs (or my hips, my belly button, my shoulders, my elbows, my fingers, my neck, my head resting on my neck, my ears, my eyes, or the crown of my head... seriously, if you want a good laugh consider that I was frustrated at my thighs and then re-read the list of body parts that came after my thighs). We did this for ten solid minutes. After minute five all I could do was try to guess what body part I was supposed to feel next, and it seemed like it could be a very, very long list depending upon how much kinesiology the teacher had in her. I just wanted to scream.

(2) My mind wanders. A lot. To weird places. Inexplicably weird places. Let's leave it at that.

(3) I am not often in the present moment. I never really thought about that. It's a startling realization, somewhat disquieting. I think I might be missing a lot of what's right in front of me.

After thinking about it for a few days, I get it. I understand, now, why I was supposed to be feeling my various body parts. If you can really feel the sensation, then you can't be thinking about your grocery list. You'll lose the sensation. If you can really feel your breath going in and out, then you can't be worrying about whether the car needs repairs. You'll lose the sensation.

I get it. In the moment means feeling the sensation of what is happening right then, right there. And while it's true that not every moment is memorable (and certainly there are some that we'd like to forget), if you're not mindful about paying attention you'll miss them all. You'll be somewhere else.

I'm a goal setter by nature. It helps me to have concrete objectives, and I love a challenge.

Two Mississippi. That's the goal.