For much of my life, I have sought well-being through external validation and stimulus. Winning the big game, getting good grades, finding the right job, and so on. I was chasing a fleeting experience while ignoring the heart that’s longing for it.
It has been its own learning journey understanding how avenues toward more peace and wellbeing are so often more accessible in the “quieter” moments like walking the dog, commuting to work, bathing, or packing the kids’ lunches. Many of us think of these kinds of tasks as just something to “get through” in order to get to the next exciting thing.
Rather than utilize these experiences of tedium as a chance to be mindfully aware, the moment is stolen by our desire to avoid boredom by seeking entertainment. If you’re restless in line at the grocery store, that’s fine! You’ve got the internet in your pocket. Feeling unsettled on the bus? That’s okay! Why not scroll your cares away?
However, for those of us seeking to be more settled in our bodies and less restless in our minds, it is worth meeting this unsettledness with accepting awareness rather than agitation-driven avoidance. At all other times in history, culture and society typically made it easier to do this.
I’m thankful to have grown up in a time before the internet had really taken off, long before social media and smartphones became so ubiquitous. Now a quarter of the way into the 21st century, despite the clear advantages of high-speed internet, touch screens, and high-resolution videos at our fingertips, I feel it’s helpful to ask: How can we balance a well-intentioned mindfulness practice with the pull of digital media, when instant entertainment and escape from boredom is just a click away? How much is too much?
About three years ago I was washing dishes and listening to a podcast. At some point the audio began to buffer before it went silent. Then through no effort on my part, my shoulders instantly lowered and a gentle awareness sank into my body.
I had been unaware that my body was tense, although I was just leisurely washing the dishes after dinner, a typical weeknight. Not until the audio filtering through my earbuds had cut out did I even notice the tension! What was going on here?
I must have been on a kind of “automatic pilot,” partially aware of the dishes and soapy water in my hands, partially aware of Dan Harris’ witty interview questions, and minimally aware of my physical body.
I do know that on one level I was trying to make washing the dishes less tedious by paying attention to something other than the dishes. This avoidance via digital distraction is in its own way an impediment to mindfulness practice.
But there was something deeper at play. My human need for authentic presence was being overshadowed by my superficial need for stimulating entertainment. The issue here? I was not able to be comfortable in my own skin. In a way, it was a subtle rejection of the company of myself.
At the heart of mindfulness practice is the complete and unequivocal acceptance of oneself. Adding a layer of digital media playing in the background easily creates distance between us and a deep mindfulness practice.
Reflecting on my washing-dishes example, there were actually three layers (between me and feeling settled in my body): (1) the podcast, (2) my mental engagement and interaction with the content of the podcast, and (3) the unnoticed physical tension in my body. The feeling of relaxing and softening in my body that arose when the podcast had unexpectedly stopped was clear evidence of this.
For many of us, thinking about mindfulness often replaces actually practicing it. And internet-driven entertainment triumphs over even an inkling of boredom. Does anyone ever feel bored sitting on the toilet these days?!
I’m not saying that scrolling or playing videos while you’re doing something else is inherently bad – not at all! However, it can be very beneficial to assess our relationship with this technology. To what degree is it serving us? To what degree does it cause us to be more dis-embodied? Can we afford to let it go, even briefly?
So, now I turn it over to you. Are you someone who “always has something on?” A TV chattering in the background? Music blaring in the bathroom?
Consider reflecting upon moments that currently include unnecessary internet “noise.” Find “gaps” in your day or periods of idleness where you could experiment with letting go of superfluous tech use. Walking the dog, doing house chores, eating a meal, exercising, and commuting are all great places to start.
And it doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing attitude. Maybe set a 3-minute timer when you start eating lunch, and don’t turn on a screen until the timer is up. Perhaps just half of your commute is spent in silence rather than half-listening to talk radio.
Like the breaking of any habit, it will likely feel uncomfortable at first. If the “mental muscle” of attention is feeling flabby, this is a good time to get in some reps. Stop. Notice, observe, feel the body. Accept it as it is.
Gradually over the years, as I’ve been applying these kinds of mindfulness practices, I have been more quick to notice unsettledness in my body.
The impulse to find something to watch or listen to while washing dishes is far less than before.
It doesn’t always happen, but more often than not, I can remember to stop, breathe, and drop my shoulders. It’s been so much easier to find fulfillment in just being at the kitchen sink: the sound of clanking porcelain, the feeling of soapy water on my skin, content with the company of my own body and mind.
Happy dishwashing – or whatever else you tend to think of as tedious!
R.J.