Zen and Jam

I was given a windfall of plums, this week, by my friend the Jammy Bodger. Today was my only chance of getting some jam made, as some of the plums were starting to look a bit mouldy.
I love making jam. But I make such a horrible, sticky mess that the processes of washing up, and scraping dried jam juice from my oven and pans take the edge off the occasion.
Today was no exception. Well actually, it was an exception, because today I made more mess than I've ever made, before. I let the pan boil over; the bowl I used for the stones and the skin wasn't big enough, so plum juice dripped down the sides, onto the worktop, and down the cupboard door.
For a while, I wondered why on earth I was creating such chaos for myself, when normally, I would at least try to keep things organised.
Eventually, I realised what I was doing; I was inappropriately multi-tasking, resulting in something Not Quite Right. Whilst the plums were bubbling away, I went off to do some jobs on my laptop, in another room. One of the jobs on my long to-do list for today involved making a phone call. The phone call reminded me that I needed to send someone an email; and when I opened up my email inbox I found 3 emails I needed to respond to. In the midst of this, I could hear my oven timer beeping, telling me it was time to dredge the skin and stones from the bubbling pan in the kitchen.
So then, it was no wonder I was finding the process of making jam very frustrating; the emails I needed to take action on seemed difficult to do; and my to-do list was starting to annoy me, with my inner voice sarcastically mocking me: "Ooh, you think you're so clever with your list-making, why not add to the list just to prove how much you can do in a day!"
After an hour of pacing up and down the hall between laptop and sticky pan, I decided enough was enough, and focused on the one task. The jam-making. But I found myself rushing, trying to get on to the next task, whilst separating plum stones from flesh, and making a terrible mess of it. My patience was starting to wear thin.
At this point, I stopped, and thought about what was happening. Today I have had some big challenges to deal with, including life-changing decisions which I'm now following through on; the to-do list had to be completed, it couldn't wait until next week because I'm back at work; the jam needed making before the fruit rotted away; and it's Friday. Fridays are supposed to allow me to be a bit more gentle with myself, instead of over-analysing, over-reaching, and doing too much at a time. No wonder I was feeling impatient.
I changed. I took a deep breath, and completely focused on those plum stones. I had over 3Ibs of plums to go through, which were checked carefully before placing back in the pan. I ignored the mess, I'd clean it later. I just concentrated exactly on the task in front of me. I began to enjoy it. A sense of fulfilment about completing the task filled me, and at the end, I had a taste of the fruits of my labour: not too sweet, slightly sharp, and with a hint of spice.
That pretty-much sums up my Friday!

One Step At A Time

This photo represents how I try to view each day: I can only experience each part of my day as I reach it, one step at a time. I can start my day by looking at what's immediately in front of it, and so react to it accordingly. I am aware that the rest of the day stretches ahead of me, but I can't experience it and know what will be until I reach it.
One Step At A Time.
There is movement around me, there is a flow, a current; but I choose to take things One Step At A Time. I can look ahead, but not cannot reach it without taking those steps, first. Each step will feel different to the last. A different perspective, a different feel to it. A different moment. I can look behind and see the steps I have made, and although they may matter, they are no longer important in this very moment.
In other words, when I wake up in the morning, I deliberately stop myself from dwelling on the day ahead. It just makes me forget to live in the moment - that first satisfying yawn and stretch after waking, listening to the sounds outside my window, the noise of the outside world, mixed with the sounds of me: my breathing, my voice, my rumbling, empty tummy; my children laughing and chatting. The light straining through the curtains, the feel of the bedclothes, the warmth I am surrounded by. These things and more make me feel so grateful for the day ahead - whatever it may bring. Why spoil the moment by bringing in the stuff to come several hours away - be it good or something to stress about - when I could just enjoy those first precious moments of a new day? Being mindful of each step - from brushing my teeth (I feel so grateful to have healthy teeth, a toothbrush, toothpaste and fresh, clean water), eating my breakfast (delicious toast and tea, tasty fruit), chatting with my children (admiring their growing brains, personality and the unconditional love we have for each other), and so on - experiencing each step to its fullest potential, and enjoying myself, is a key to feeling happy, connected, and contented in my life.
Believe me when I say I have bad days - don't we all? But taking those steps to get from one end to the other when experienced as fully as possible, in connection with ourselves, with others, and with our environment makes everything more of an experience. And if we can try to weave in some gratitude for ourselves and others, and share in the fullest joy for the great stuff that happens to ourselves and others in our day, isn't that worth getting up for?

Mindful students

Today I have been doing mindful activities with students at both Swanage Primary and The Swanage School.

This morning I met with reception children. We did a range of activities, from imagining blowing up balloons and watching as they floated away, eating strawberries mindfully, to lying down for a beach meditation. It was really interesting to hear their thoughts about what they were eating. They used each of their senses to engage completely in the process, which came to them happily and naturally, without any awkwardness. They talked about how the strawberry had started off as a seed, explained to each other how the seed grew and that there was no such thing as a strawberry tree, and how the rain and the sunshine had helped the strawberry to grow.

When they chose a strawberry to eat, I asked them to feel the texture, weight and shape. Then they used their sense of smell to identify what sort of aroma they picked out ("sweet-smelling"), before licking it, which they found most amusing! Next, rather than taking a big bite out of the strawberry, I asked them to take a tiny nibble and let the flavours move around the taste buds, so that they could identify any different flavours ("tangy", "bubbly"). I asked them to close their eyes to find out if the flavour changed ("stronger").
They all enjoyed this activity. I wondered if they would have been as happy to try doing the same with a piece of food they didn't like or had never tasted, before. Perhaps that's one for another day!

We moved on to some quiet time for a beach meditation. I was taught not to expect young children to lie still, but to allow them to move and wriggle around if they needed to. I was happy for them to do this, although it does feel a bit counter-intuitive! However, despite the wriggling and the fact that most of them kept their eyes open (not a problem) they did lie quietly. We visualised a special pebble which each of them put in their pocket, and then they got up and did a bit of grounding exercise before heading off to lunch. With an extra strawberry as a treat, of course! I thoroughly enjoyed working alongside the children, and felt privileged to do so.

This afternoon I did some mindfulness work with older students. This time it wasn't bread-making, but working with "Zentangle". I asked the students to come up with an intention before they started, and to think about their intentions as they doodled.

It was quite a challenge for them I think, but that's good. My intention for the session was for them to do something that would take a lot of patience and to persist, even if they found it difficult. To realise it doesn't matter about the mistakes, but to carry on regardless of whether it is "perfect" or not. I am sure they were proud of their efforts!

If you would like to book me for some sessions at your school, please get in touch at innerspaceproject1@gmail.com

How To Eat An Orange

You may think eating is a pretty simple activity, and on the surface, you'd be right. But I want to look beyond the surface, at what's beneath the obvious. Let's be honest: how often do you concentrate on what you're eating or drinking? How often do you stop to consider how that food you're popping into your mouth arrived there in the first place? How often do you really pay attention to what's happening to you as you're eating?

I, for one, don't spend every mouthful of food deeply thinking about it, or examining the sense's reactions to the food. I don't bless each morsel with gratitude, I don't think about how the food arrived on my plate; and I definitely don't always say a grace. If I did, surely my food will have cooled down, and not taste as good as it should have? I am, as many others are, guilty of one of the following on a regular basis:

• eating whilst watching TV
• eating whilst answering a text
• eating whilst working on my laptop
• eating whilst reading a book or writing notes
• eating whilst walking around

I bet the majority of those reading this will be able to agree that they have done at least 2, if not all of those in the list above (and if you can do all at once, then you are multi-talented). Some of you will be able to agree that you do say a prayer or bless your food - but how many of you do so for every meal?

What do you think is the best approach? How does food make you feel? Do different types of food affect your mood or how you feel? What is your relationship with your food?  What sort of food do you eat on a daily basis? Do you cook it yourself, is it freshly prepared? Is it healthful? For those who are just about to skip to the next blog, wait! 

Please, stop and think for a moment. Because food is a huge part of every society, every culture, we depend on food to keep us going, at the very least, and to enrich ourselves and feel healthy, at best. Don't you think that something we as humans rely on so much for survival, something so crucial to our health, should get more attention when we prepare it, and eat it?

Today I'm going to give you an example. I teach this in my beginners mindfulness course. I love this exercise, because I see the reactions of those taking part in it. I love when the participants feed back to me the exact point of the exercise: it makes me feel that someone else is on my wavelength. I love it when those who look at me suspiciously when I present them with a plate of fruit - like I'm a little bit crazy - find the exercise has taught them something that they didn't really think about beforehand.

How do you eat an orange?

• Do you cut it into wedges and suck them? 
• Do you peel it and eat each segment? 
• Do you halve it and squeeze out the juice?
• Do you think about how that orange arrived in your kitchen?

My suggestion is that you get yourself an orange. Hold it in your hand, feeling the texture, the weight and the shape. Just be curious about who planted the orange tree. Where did it grow? How long do you think it took to grow? Who picked it when it was ripe?
Who packed it, and packaged it along with the rest of the crates to be shipped around the world? What was the journey on the ship like for those who work at sea to deliver goods around to different countries? Who drove the crates with your orange to the supermarkets, or delivered your vegbox to your door?

Who placed your orange on the shelf for you to see, and buy, or loaded your fruit box?

And now, here you are, holding your beautiful, precious orange, that which has been handled from seed to plate. Acknowledge all those who have had a part in giving you your moment of sustenance. What might the life story be of each person involved? Thank them for their part in providing you with food.

Begin to prepare the orange. As you do so, breathe in the zest, smell the sunshine and the rain and the air, soil and energy required to transform the orange seed into the fruit you are preparing, now.

Then, just before you place your first segment or wedge into your mouth, clear your mind and zone in completely on the experience of what you are doing. Concentrate as you bite into it. Taste it. What do you experience? What do you notice?

Continue to eat the orange, observing your senses as you do so, watching your thoughts and concentrating on what you are doing. When you have finished, sit quietly for a minute or two, just to reflect. What comes up for you?

You know when you've digested that orange, when all the vitamins and water have been carefully, chemically stored in your body, the waste of which is eliminated from your system and into the toilet (let's not get too graphic at this juncture), what happens to it? It goes back to the earth. Through your breath, through your skin, through your elimination systems, into the sewage, into the water, into the air, and back to earth.

Can you see, then, that we are all intrinsically connected? That person who planted the seed or operated the machinery (even the people who assembled machinery in the factory), to the person who took your money for the orange at the shop, has had a part in providing you with sustenance. By eating it, you take on the energy of this process, and by eliminating it, you provide the earth with sustenance. It's a two-way process.

When we eat, we are engaging in a big, symbiotic relationship with each other, the world; we are all doing it in a similar way for mutual benefit of ourselves and for earth, consciously or unconsciously.

I'm not suggesting that you treat every meal in this manner - who has time for that in their lives? - but to at least acknowledge the food you are about to eat, from seed to plate, and for the work you have put into being able to buy (or grow) yourself.

Give thanks - and enjoy every mouthful - for of course, you are what you eat.