In the days leading up to New Year’s Eve and nearly every day since, my Facebook feed has carried a familiar tenor. Whether they say it overtly or not, I see countless posts like this:
This is a habit/behavior/attitude about me that I don’t like. I resolve to stop it/do the opposite in 2018. #resolved
Can you relate?
The posts do seem to be less self-deprecating this year, which I celebrate. For so many of us, 2017 felt like crossing a bed of hot coals, so I was happy to note the dearth of self-flagellating New Year’s Resolution posts among those I care most about.
And yet, there it remains: the low-grade din of discontent on most social media platforms—not just Facebook and Instagram. People are antsy to get out of their present circumstances, and I don’t blame them; not a person I know escaped last year without life throwing a painful curveball in their direction . . . myself included. Who wouldn’t want relief from that?
For me, 2017 was both the best and the worst year of my entire life. I stretched myself to new professional heights, and I grew more deeply in my relationships and capacity for intimacy. I took risks, I loved big, and my heart became full again.
And yet . . . I cried more deeply in 2017 than any other year, including several years before, when I divorced my husband of ten years and lost my dad suddenly within a few short months. In a way, the depths of heartache, sorrow, and despondence were my initiation into life. Almost as if the universe had pushed me out into the sunlight from the shadows, and there I stood, squinting as my eyes adjusted, while I cupped my own cheeks to catch the tears.
I knew that in the end, I was going to be okay.
Even during my darkest moments, when I wondered if my heart would give up and just stop beating in the middle of the night, I woke up the next day. When I would have bet money that my body would have quit overnight, I marveled at my capacity for strength and joy at the same time. This depth and breadth I can only attribute to one thing: my meditation practice.
I’ll say it more clearly for anyone who missed it the first time: meditation saved my life last year, and it also saved my sanity and my relationships.
Now, I’m not trying to convince you to start meditating (even though you totally should). Instead, I’d like to offer you what I affectionately refer to as “meditation-lite.”
Whether you don’t have the time to meditate or you’re just not into it, you can still receive tons of the same benefits by adopting a different kind of New Year’s resolution: a resolve to be more mindful. (This one will have longer-lasting results than that chewy kale salad you planned for lunch later. Trust me.)
Here are some ideas for bringing more mindfulness to your day: to help you slow down, connect with the present moment, and detach from the temptation to slip back into your pain:
While not all of us want to be better people, most of us want to feel better when we’re bummed, down-and-out, or hurting. I’m convinced that’s what my friends who made those pesky resolutions this year had in mind. But you can’t fix a building’s internal issues by painting the outside with a rainbow. (I’ve tried.) Sure, losing those stubborn twenty pounds you gained last year will make you feel lighter, but the real question is not How do I lose this weight?
The real question is: How do I pay more attention to what truly fills me up, so I don’t have this gnawing, false hunger?
The answer is simple: Be more mindful in more of your now moments.
Find a way to stay present in whatever you’re doing, whether or not it’s emotionally charged.
When we offer those we’re with the gift of our presence, our mindfulness becomes a surprise even to ourselves. Being more mindful increases our capacity for connection with others and deepens our ability to be with ourselves. It’s the pot of gold at the end of our rainbow that we’ve been searching for all along.
Be more mindful in each moment. And when your presence is in the present moment, your mindfulness becomes the most treasured gift you give to yourself, and, unsurprisingly, it becomes a gift to others as well.