The past couple of weeks I have been reining in the mindfulness work. I have a lot booked in for April so I needed a couple of weeks respite from the constant blogging, status updating, amending advertising, updating my website, booking rooms etc that comes alongside the very thing I enjoy doing which is teaching mindfulness.
The truth of the matter is simply I spend far more time in front of a computer than I do teaching mindfulness, such is the nature of recruiting participants for the courses and groups that I run.
So having a few weeks off in which I consciously put nothing onto my facebook page and wrote no blogs and instead made time for the kids and my allotment have been very welcome.
Going slow is a thing. It’s been a thing for many years. Our ancestors were very good at it but we in 2017 often struggle with the concept.
The fruits of going slow have been giving the kids a lovely Easter break so far, we have been to the forest twice, met with friends and family, visited the plot and grown things!
I recommend a time of going slow amidst the busyness to anyone who feels they need it. During that time of going slow I have still been at work, I have still been commuting into London 3 out 5 days. But what changed was the stuff outside my actual day job. Freeing myself from constant internet slavery for a few weeks has been lush!
Today’s total practice time: 10 minutes movement, 20 minutes seated practice (in my garden no less, how is that for going slow!)
I came out of retreat more than two weeks ago, blinking like a mole in daylight for the first time. Travelling through London on the tube at rush is almost too surreal an experience after five days of silence and stillness. Suffice to say it felt slightly psychedelic, like the colours and noise were cranked up just a little too much.
The retreat itself was a delight. It was very different to any retreat I had done before. I found myself comparing it to previous experiences and finding it didn’t quite measure up. It was too short, too easy and too still and yet I knew it was exactly the right retreat for me at that moment. I found myself judging the Qigong (often with the words ‘this is so lame’ ringing in my mind), unspoken they felt all the louder.
I arrived late and was put on lunchtime pot washing detail for my work hour which meant I was out of sinc with most other retreatants and I lamented not getting that lazy lunch hour that was such a celebrated part of my previous retreat.
For some of the time I was holding on to that previous retreat, remembering one sunny afternoon when after a lovely veggie lunch a load of us lazed around on the grass in the sunshine. People I would never see again, many of whom’s names I didn’t know, and yet in that moment I felt so utterly and wordlessly connected to them. It was pure joy.
By day 3 I shed the old retreat and made friends with this present one. It was a much easier retreat in many ways, for a start I had only one room mate (not three) and she didn’t snore or use the toilet twice each night. I was sleeping well, I came out of the retreat feeling more revived not less.
And the Qigong was pretty still and I struggled with that – with boredom, with stiffness and restlessness. But it gave me so much to work with. I had to be with the body and all its aches and pains, whether I wanted to be or not. I had to do the dull movements for eight hours each day because I was there and I might as well take part. And I grew to love them and the breath works we were taught.
Two weeks later, even though life has been one busy blur since coming home, I still do those movements and the breath work everyday and my practice has never felt more stable.
Today’s Total Practice Time: 1 hour (Qigong, movement and breath work)