One method I learned from my teacher, Diana Winston, is elegantly simple. In your usual meditation, simply add a few words to each time you notice your attention wandering: May I meet this too with kindness.
Whatever comes up, repeat this phrase of loving-kindness toward your thoughts, feelings, or sensations. Do it as many times as you need to, and then guide your attention back to the anchor of the breath once again …as you move through the day, try repeating the same phrase – “may I meet this too with kindness” – whenever you notice you are being hard on yourself, judgmental toward yourself, or unkind in any way. Often, learning to meet yourself with kindness can feel like the medicine your heart and inner life yearns for, especially if you’re used to meeting yourself with all kinds of judgment and past conditioning.
Amanda Gilbert – Meditation Teacher, Author and Professor of Mindfulness
Image Credit: anitacrossinguera on Pixabay
What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.
Don’t be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams.
A moment of stillness.
Go outside. Don’t tell anyone and don’t bring your phone. Start walking and keep walking until you no longer know the road like the palm of your hand, because we walk the same roads day in and day out, to the bus and back home and we cease to see. We walk in our sleep and teach our muscles to work without thinking and I dare you to walk where you have not yet walked and I dare you to notice. Don’t try to get anything out of it, because you won’t. Don’t try to make use of it, because you can’t. And that’s the point. Just walk, see, sit down if you like. And be. Just be, whatever you are with whatever you have, and realise that that is enough to be happy. There’s a whole world out there, right outside your window. You’d be a fool to miss it.
One must have an old cane chair for sitting in the garden …
There are very few friends that will lie down with you on empty streets in the middle of the night, without a word. No questions, no asking why, just quietly lay there with you, observing the stars, until you’re ready to get back up on your feet again and walk the last bit home, softly holding your hand as a quiet way of saying “I’m here”.
Curating Quietude 