I live in the future quite a bit. Whenever life gets uncomfortable, I like to make plans. I focus on one thing that sits just on the other side of the present. My most common conduit for time travel is menu planning: if I’m eating breakfast, I’m thinking about what to make for dinner; if I have space in my day, I go food shopping. Transversely, when I want to meditate on my thoughts, I cook. But when my mind is too full, I bake.
It should come as no surprise then that being still is a challenge. In New York there was no stillness and I usually had some excuse for not creating that space. I needed to be doing something all of the time, even if that meant I was doing nothing. Of course, ‘doing nothing’ is not stillness. Nothing was the mindlessness of writing ‘to do’ lists, checking email, listening to NPR, cleaning my room, watching a movie, etc.
On this mountain I am constantly challenged to view each activity with an intention to be mindful. Living in community, where I work, socialize, and eat with the same sixty people everyday brings with it a commitment to be present. This practice is exhausting because my mind is attached to a desire to control what comes next. Mindfulness means that I do not assume, judge, or pursue the inevitable, but trust and surrender that the future will unfold.
