How we think makes a difference in what we see and how we feel. I sometimes find myself reacting to the weather in my mind.
Recently, I offered a few talks on the subject of mindfulness in veterinary medicine. The last talk was on a Thursday night about 7pm and it ended about 8. The talk seemed to go well overall but after it was over I felt a bit drained from all the usual anxiety of public speaking. On top of that, it had been a long week and a very long day, I was tired and hungry and I “just” wanted to get home and relax.
So I loaded up my backpack and headed out, but as I walked outside a wind swept my face and a light, but thick rain, covered me. “$#%!” I thought to myself and I said aloud in harsh whisper, “no umbrella!” - I had parked in the lot up the street, about a quarter mile away, and I had no way around this walk in the rain. So called my wife to let her know I was on the way home and I started walking. The rain got a little harder. I complained about the weather and about being tired and “just” wanting to get home. I held my back pack awkwardly under my jacket, to shield my computer and my phones. My step now slower and balance just slightly off. My vision obstructed as my glasses beaded with rain and fogged. Forehead now dripping into my eyes, I was annoyed and I got caught up in the frustration of it all before I realized what had happened . . .
I had just left a talk over mindfulness only to mindlessly allow myself to become overly frustrated by the wind and the rain - or rather my thoughts about the wind and rain.
But at that point of realization I took my own advice and made a shift. I laughed a little about my short fueled memory and smiled at my own lack of follow through. I anchored myself in the moment and felt the rain on my face, only now just noticing it (instead of judging that experience) and the rain became less unfriendly. Though heavier than I would have liked it to be, I noticed the rain wasn’t really cold. Anchoring myself in the moment had allowed me to recognize and let go. And as I let go I felt more accepting, less tense and a sense of peace In that. The talks were done the day had been successful, there was no way around that walk in the rain but I was on my way home.
When I got home and I immediately took off my shoes changed out of my pants, completely soaked through, into something soft and warm. I was a little annoyed with the wetness but easily found the space in my head to take notice and remain thankful for all the good things along the way: A relatively warm night, a waterproof jacket, a dry shirt and backpack underneath that jacket, a warm car, a clear California highway. And in the end I was filled with gratitude for what I had.
It seems silly, I know, how a little tiredness, hunger and minor irritation can frustrate. But I think we all do that sometimes. When we allow it, we can just get carried away, not so much by an experience itself but by our thoughts about an experience. We can multiply frustration. Make ourselves more or less annoyed. And it seems almost too easy, how simply recognizing the thoughts and feelings we are having, and shifting our focus, can make a difference in our life. But that’s how powerful the mind is and that is a power you have: to see the sun behind the clouds. Mindfulness certainly won’t eliminate the rain, but it can prove to be a more balanced vantage point for viewing the weather in your mind.
