mindfulness – When Life Gives You Lemons

Mono-tasking: Focusing on One Thing at a Time

With Christmas rushing towards us like a tornado and the to-do list expanding exponentially, it is tempting to fall into the multi-tasking mode. How else, you ask, are we to get everything done? Well, rather counter intuitively, the best way to get to the end of that list is to take each task one at a time.

When my boys were young, I prided myself on being the queen of multi-tasking: packing lunch boxes, signing forms, making breakfast and entertaining the dog all in the same breath. Time was the enemy that had to be defeated; yet ultimately, the only thing that was defeated was me.

**Is that the time already?** Image: Sonja Langford on Unsplash

I’d like to say that I’d learned my lesson, but I am still a work in progress. Yesterday, after making pesto, putting the pasta on to boil and making garlic bread to go under the grill, I thought I would squeeze the washing up into the pasta’s cooking time. The faint aroma of charcoal alerted me to the fact the the garlic bread did not need ten minutes (but did need watching!) My sense of smell saved us from disaster, but reminded me once again that doing too many things at the same time often means we do them badly. Worse, we may have to do them all over again or spend time rectifying our errors.

Do I really have to do this?

Media, magazines and talented friends all make us think that our Christmas should be worthy of a Country Living cover. We slave over elaborate meals and table settings, attempt to wrap gifts perfectly and deck our halls with sumptuous greens. In an exquisite magazine a friend just lent me, they suggest adding gold leaf to your cookies (doesn’t everyone?), embroidering your napkins and knitting your own lampshade (!). These all make for stunning illustrations, but when we see too much of these things, we can feel overwhelmed and defeated.

**Doesn’t your Christmas look like this?** Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Don’t get me wrong. I love these sumptuous Christmas editions and sometimes am even inspired to take on the odd project (well, the simple ones). The problem only arises when we feel that to choose not to do all these things makes us a) an inept parent b) hostess or c)Scrooge.

It is worth remembering that the purpose of all the media excess is to make you buy more. It is certainly not intended to help you have a better Christmas.

It is time to recalibrate.

Making a list, checking it twice

Focusing on a single task while a dozen others swirl through your mind is unlikely to be successful. We need to go back to the good old list and decide what really has to be done. There will be some non-negotiables: food shopping; feeding ourselves and guests; organising gifts and making our homes presentable. Everything else, as they say, is jam.

For the rest, I would advise the Marie Kondo test. Does it bring you joy? If not, ditch it. Loads of people I know do not wish to do cards. They may prefer a phone call or a cheery text or simply greetings face-to-face. (Like so many traditions, this one too had a commercial edge. It was established in the mid 19th century to encourage the public to support the newly formed Post Office.)

With time limited, focus on those things you love and put them at the top of the list. Mine would definitely include making cards, gifts and decorations. These are not chores but pleasures. Making breakfast muffins for Christmas morning would be nice, but I think I’ll put that at the bottom.

**A manageable list**! Image: Thomas Bormans

Mindful mono-tasking

With a reasonable list made, now is the time for work. Ideally, you want to give ample time for each individual task. This may mean starting earlier than you normally would, but it also means you should be able to enjoy it. Fluster and panic seldom make anything pleasurable.

The greatest paradox that has arisen from my MS and inevitable slowing of my body is this: it is rare that I do not manage to achieve everything I’d planned. Without question, I need to be more organised – and my desk is always littered with to-do lists – but I also find that focusing very carefully on the job in hand allows me to do it more efficiently than I used to.

Which is where the mindfulness comes in. Meditation is a kind of brain training. It involves the repeated practice of disciplining the mind to focus on whatever you are doing – whether that is breathing, invoking loving-kindness or even peeling a vegetable.

And when we bring our whole attention to a task, we do it quickly and well. Even better, it doesn’t feel like work any more -rather something that absorbs our attention. Time slides into a sort of no-time and all sense of urgency is lost and with it any sense of panic.

Trust me. I am no Zen master and often tumble into the turmoil of rush and stress. But those times are fewer and further between, which is a very good thing, as they are the foods this illness feeds upon.

**Calm and beautiful!** Image: Jessica Delp on Unsplash

Approaching each item on your list with focus and gratitude enables you to have a little extra time to light a candle and contemplate what the season is really about. When you do that, I suspect, you will enjoy it all the more.

How to Eat an Elephant

**More than a mouthful** Image: NaHarai Perez Aguilar on Unsplash

I first came across the advice on how to eat an elephant (one bite at a time) many years ago when researching for my writing class. Of all activities, writing has to be the one where procrastination is king. I have read about successful authors arranging the pins on a pin cushion rather than sit down and start typing. (I confess, I have made numerous paperclip chains for the same reason.)

Procrastination is the thief of time
Edward Young

Yet, the advice really came into its own after my relapse in 2015. It went from being a rather witty way of encouraging action over procrastination to a genuine life-saver. Whatever gains I have made over the past six years – and there are many- I can attribute to following its guidance. And though I hope no-one reading this is facing the Everest climb of recovering from a major physical relapse, I do think that we can all benefit from adopting it in our lives. After all, action is empowering, procrastination is not.

A journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step

When I came home from hospital, I went straight back to bed. The lumber puncture to confirm my condition had left me with a pressure migraine that was utterly debilitating. A week later, I got up. My legs were wobbly as a foal’s and just as weak, but my husband had to return to work and I had a dog to walk.

A long, oftentimes painful journey then began. Physio was invaluable, and as the months passed, my walks became just a little bit longer until my elderly dog, Puck, was quite happy with his trip around the block.

**A walk a day keeps the doctor away** Image: Michael Kucharski on Unsplash

I still walk every day – now with a rather more active Hermione – and gradually I’ve been managing a little further. To increase my distance, I literally count lamp-posts and when I’ve overdone it, count them till I get home!

This breaking down of the task has made progress possible and brought the accompanying joy of success. Each lamp-post to me is a milestone, each extra few minutes a sign that contrary to the medical advice, even the most depressing prognosis is not always immutable.

A mouthful every day

This approach was not only invaluable with enabling me to walk again, but I have used it to increase my meditation practice, my brain exercises (including writing), physical activity and volunteering work. Friends have used this approach to start running using the Couch to 5km challenge on the NHS app. It is as simple as it is effective and the reason for this is put rather succinctly below:

Breaking tasks down helps us to see large tasks as more approachable and doable, and reduces our propensity to procrastinate or defer tasks, because we simply don’t know where to begin.

Melissa Gratias, Ph.D., workplace productivity coach and speaker.

Make a plan

A thousand mile journey would be a little pointless without a destination in mind. The same applies to any other activity we engage in. We are far more likely to succeed if we make a detailed road map of where we want to get to including stops for tea and rest. Knowing the direction we are taking will enhance our ability to focus and each little goal reached encourages us to continue further. Our bodies respond to success giving us little boosts to dopamine (the happy hormone) each time a significant stage is reached.

And it is up to us how large or small our markers of success are. Often I am working in single digits – two more minutes’ walk or five more seconds holding a yoga pose, but you may have grander aims.

How not to do it! Too many plans=too many distractions. Keep it simple. Image: Photo by Firmbee.com on Unsplash

The easiest way to chart your course is through writing it down. Engineers use sophisticated Gantt charts with each stage plotted with precision. The rest of us can simply make lists or note goals in our diary. Before I made my morning health activities a habit, I literally put them at the top of each page of my diary and ticked them off when done. They were all I had to do each day and once complete, I could get on with the other stuff.

Though our brains are incredible, they can only manage to process a few things properly at one time, so it is advisable not to put too many things on a list: 3-5 is ideal. It may be that all five are part of a larger project, and this is fine. When we focus absolutely, we work much more efficiently and are less prone to distraction. Unlike multi-tasking, where we tend to perform poorly and end up stressed and exhausted, this way of working keeps stress to the minimum. We do a micro task, complete it, get a feel good hit and are encouraged to do the next. Taking action itself keeps us in good spirits. Knowing we have something due that we have not yet started can almost paralyse us with despair.

Mindfulness in action

What I love best about this new way of working – microproductivity – as it has been perfectly coined, is that is fits with a more mindful way of living. Whereas in the past, I did each task with half an eye on the next one (or two, or three), this way I just do it. (Thank you Nike.)

I don’t do any tasks that are not necessary and only do them if I can see a purpose to it. Cleaning the kitchen may not seem inspiring, but I do want to keep some level of hygiene and I do want to be able to find what I need when cooking. When we think clearly about the purpose of the task, the act of doing it becomes less of a chore and more of a pleasure. If we can focus absolutely upon it, it can even become a meditative act. Simple, repetitive tasks lend themselves well to this practice.

**A chore or mindful activity?** It’s up to you. Either way, it needs to be done. Image: Grass-American on Unsplash

Time to begin

So whether you have a massive project or just a list of daily tasks, I recommend that you break them down into manageable, bite-sized pieces. It may take a while to perfect your method; it may even be a life-long project, but I can guarantee that it works.

Everyone will have their favourite approach and what works for you is what works for you. No one is going to check your style. And this is perhaps the most liberating aspect of this process – it is entirely hidden. All anyone sees is the end result, but as we work towards this, we can progress as crazily, as messily and as imaginatively as we wish. Chances are that when we do get to the finish line, just like the slowly but surely tortoise, we will be the winners.

Sources: Microproductivity blog.trello.com

Morning has Broken

Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Eleanor Farjeon

Morning song

As a child, this was one of my favourite hymns, which I sang joyfully in assembly. The message was simple – mornings represented everything good. They were an opportunity for fresh starts and new adventures and I greeted them with excitement each day.

As I grew older, mornings became something that were met with dread: the teenage horror of getting up early for school; the six am feed when the baby had been awake all night; the crushing exhaustion as my MS insidiously shortened my days.

Now, I have returned to my childhood joy of greeting the morning. My sleep has been restored (I shall explain how in a later blog) and each day really is a blessing. So when I was up and enjoying my first mug of hot water and mindfully observing the garden in the sunshine, it was this song that came to mind.

Inspired by my favourite village, Alfriston, and the melody based on a traditional Scottish Gaelic tune ‘Bunessan’, it is perhaps not so surprising that it speaks to me.

Here’s the Cat Stevens’ version to get you into the mood.

A perfect celebration of the new day

Reclaim the light

It seems that mornings have fallen out of favour. After scrolling through three Google pages, expecting to find all sorts of fascinating facts and rituals based upon morning, I found only articles on the meaning and etymology of the word and the wonderfully droll comment, that ‘There is no ‘urban’ definition for morning because the type of people who speak ‘urban’ do not know what morning is.’

Out of the mouths of babes and urban dictionaries. As we’ve detached ourselves further and further from the natural cycles of day and night, the morning has become insignificant or an irritant to our busy man-made, artificially lit days.

It is time to reclaim the morning. It is, after all, the perfect moment to set our minds and bodies into balance. Grabbing a coffee and rushing to work does the opposite. We are wrong footed from the start and the subsequent hours are likely to be harried and stressful.

The solution is as simple as setting the alarm ten or fifteen minutes earlier and trying to keep to that schedule throughout the week – including weekends. I am not suggesting you get up at dawn (though I know some who do) but to ease yourself into rising at a slightly earlier hour. In doing so, we buy ourselves the most precious of commodities: time.

Since I have been getting up earlier, I have been able to indulge in quiet mindfulness. On Sunday morning, I sat for at least half an hour watching the garden come to life, listening to birdsong and the hum of bees in the lavender; watching the elegant duet of tiny butterflies in the marjoram and seeing the sleepy heads of the golden ragwort-like flowers gradually straighten and release their petals.

I do this each day and there are always blessings to be found. One day a giant dragonfly came and looped across the sky, another a long legged cricket hopped by my feet and today a tiny mouse was skittering across the back of the bench where I was sitting. Without stillness, without calm, such miracles will never be witnessed.

Okay, my field mouse wasn’t in a tulip – but just as cute! Image: Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Making the most of ‘free’ time

The extra time has also allowed me to do the exercises I need to optimise my health. The yoga and breathing takes about an hour, but this does not matter, because it is ‘free time’ stolen from time in bed. And the beauty of this virtuous circle is that this activity is the very thing that ensures my sleep is deep and nourishing.

Recently, the weather has been kind and there are few things more delightful than practising yoga on a dewy lawn. When I do the pose, ‘Salute the sun’, that is exactly what I am doing. When I lie back on my mat, I do not have to envisage being connected to the earth – I am, literally.

And since I am self-isolating, it also gives opportunities to go out. There are not many people about at seven-thirty in the morning and my husband and I have used this to our advantage to go for early morning sea swims. We usually have the beach to ourselves. We can relax and enjoy the experience thoroughly, since we do not have that background hum of anxiety to spoil it.

All the religious disciplines I know of call for an early start to the day, beginning with prayer. For some of you, that may well be the path you choose, for others our prayers can be more secular, a sense of gratitude for our continuing lives and the opportunity to begin again afresh. But whatever you do, I encourage you to see it as a ritual; an act full of meaning and significance. Then you really will enjoy the morning’s blessings.

The blackbird is speaking: enjoy his song.

The maestro of the garden Image: Photo by Nicolas DC on Unsplash

Life in the Slow Lane

Taking it slow and admiring the view Image: Photo by Erik Nielsen on Unsplash

All my life I have been a hare: rushing from one activity to another, my mind on the task ahead before I finished the one I was engaged in. Only after my relapse and enforced rest in the hospital did I morph into a tortoise. At the time, I thought this was a temporary transformation, while I worked on recovery. But it soon became apparent that life in the slow lane was my future, and despite my initial chafing, I soon realised what a blessing it was.

And it seems that I am not the only one who can see the advantage of taking things slowly. There is an entire movement devoted to it! Carl Honore describes it this way:

“It is a cultural revolution against the notion that faster is always better. The Slow philosophy is not about doing everything at a snail‘s pace. It’s about seeking to do everything at the right speed. Savoring the hours and minutes rather than just counting them. Doing everything as well as possible, instead of as fast as possible. It’s about quality over quantity in everything from work to food to parenting.” — Honoré.^[3]

Let’s unpack this a little.

Doing everything at the right speed

For me, doing everything at the right speed generally means quite slowly. After years of juggling and multi-tasking, I have come to love this. Even the most mundane of tasks, such as washing dishes or chopping vegetables, becomes a joy and not a chore. When you focus on what you are doing, it is an opportunity for mindfulness.

Bringing our full attention to a task enables us to rest in the activity. I know that seems a contradiction, but it’s true. Being fully absorbed is very tranquil. All the silly thoughts and worries that usually compete for our attention like manic toddlers in a ball pit are replaced with calm, unhurried contemplation. Perhaps we think of the meal we are in the midst of preparing, the texture and colour of the ingredient or perhaps we even feel gratitude for nature’s abundance and our access to it. Such musings improve our mood while getting what is needed done.

Savouring the hours and minutes

While we rush from one thing to another, time always feels like the enemy: breathing down our necks and urging us to race until our lungs burst. It is a brutal slave master, who can never be satisfied.

When we slow down; however, time does too. It seems to unfold to permit us to truly savour our activity, no matter now prosaic. When I am doing art or piano practice, time is no longer relevant, only the page, only the notes. When we bring this practice to our friendships, it allows us to listen with a depth we have not imagined possible and for our friends to feel truly heard.

Quality over quantity

It should come as no surprise that attentive work results in better work. If we can discipline ourselves to slow down and work with care, we are almost guaranteed that what we produce will be pleasing to us. This is not to say that we will always be perfect, but allowing ourselves time means that we can adjust for mistakes and avoid them.

Take driving for example. If we are rushing along, perhaps even speeding, we will be unable to brake or swerve safely if some misfortune befalls the person ahead of us. Or we may miss our turn and be forced to make a long, circuitous detour to get back on track. Or we may simply be raising our blood pressure to dangerous levels in our obsession with reaching our goal in record time.

As with driving, so with life. If I am making a meal, I can continually make micro adjustments to flavourings as I go, ensuring the final result is just how I want it. We can focus on quality when we give ourselves time to do so. The slow movement began with a protest against a fast food chain. I don’t think I need to write further on the difference in quality of fast food versus a home-cooked meal.

For a fuller discussion of The Slow Movement, I encourage you to watch the TED talk below:

Getting things done

This is all very well, you may argue, but I have got a lot to do! No doubt, but the strangest thing of all is that I found I am able to do more not less now that I live more slowly. Whilst at the beginning, I was being driven crazy by my less than cooperative body, now I find the restraints it puts on me quite positive. Rushing and multi-tasking are no longer options, but that doesn’t mean I do nothing at all. If anything, my life is fuller than before and infinitely richer.

How?

And here’s the secret. With MS, we are urged to think in terms of time not task to avoid over-exertion and paying with hours of fatigue. It took me a long while to get my head around this and I still forget sometimes and pay the consequences with dizziness, nausea and hours lying on the sofa. But this idea of allocating a specific amount of time to an activity is immensely helpful.

Many of know the time and motion quote by Parkinson that says, ‘Work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion’. Though he was concerned with bureaucracies, we are all aware of how often this holds true in the workplace and even the home.

If we allocate a small and reasonable amount of time to do something, more often than not, we complete it. This may be because we are not trying to do anything else (multi-tasking) or because we are more focused and productive.

And if a task requires more time than we can manage in one session, we simply have to break it up into its component parts. As Henry Ford said:

Nothing is particularly hard if you divide it into small jobs.
Henry Ford

Building a car is a daunting prospect, but by allocating small tasks to a large number of workers, he was able to produce a car in as little as 93 minutes!

I would not suggest that you make your life a production line, but by breaking up tasks, it is quite amazing what you can do with no ill-effects to your health. It has also given me hope for the future. It is likely that my stamina will decrease as my disease progresses, but this way of living makes that far less of a scary prospect. I shall simply have to divide and sub-divide tasks into their manageable portions and not give them up altogether.

Slow is not being lazy or doing nothing. It is simply changing priorities. As Guttorm Floistad points out, it is reminding ourselves of what is essential and in doing so, improving our own and others’ lives.

“The only thing for certain is that everything changes. The rate of change increases. If you want to hang on you better speed up. That is the message of today. It could however be useful to remind everyone that our basic needs never change. The need to be seen and appreciated! It is the need to belong. The need for nearness and care, and for a little love! This is given only through slowness in human relations. In order to master changes, we have to recover slowness, reflection and togetherness. There we will find real renewal.”
Professor Guttorm Fløistad

The ancients had it right. Slow and steady really does win the race, as Aesop suggested in his fable. Winning is not just reaching the finishing line either; it is making the journey an enjoyable and fulfilling one where we appreciate the landscape and the people we meet along the way.