'THE moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.' Henry Miller.
Summer solstice has come and gone and it appears to me that time is moving faster – “In the blink of an eye," as my granny used to say. My Queen’s mindfulness classes are over and will return in the autumn – “If God spares me.” That’s another granny McCusker quote.
Sometimes mindfulness can appear to be just another thing on our ever-exhausting to-do list. Something that we are meant to squeeze in between our many chores. The more that I practice mindfulness, the more that I find that it isn’t about finding a perfect, peaceful bubble outside of real life. It’s about arriving fully into the life we already have.
Sometimes the most ordinary places in our city offer us the deepest invitation to slow down. My latest sanctuary and refuge is St James' Farm, which is nestled in the beautiful Bog Meadows. It’s here that my four-legged friends teach me to pause and enjoy the precious moment.
It’s here that I find that the heart of mindfulness is, of course, “paying attention on purpose without judgment”. No need for incense, music, or a meditation cushion. All that’s required is a few minutes and a willingness to be present with what’s already around you.
Next time that you’re waiting for a black taxi or the Glider, try this simple practice. I call it three breaths in the City:
1. Take a moment to feel your feet on the ground, really notice the contact.
2. Inhale slowly through your nose, then exhale through your mouth. Do this three times.
3. Let yourself become aware of your surroundings – the sounds, smells, colours and movement, without needing to fix or change anything.
That’s it, a pause, a mindful moment. It might last just thirty seconds, but I can guarantee you that these moments of mindfulness build up over time. They reconnect us with ourselves and the places we call home. For me, that’s Colin Glen, Falls Park, St James' Farm, Dunville Park, the Black Mountain and, of course, Divis. How blessed are we after all that we have gone through to be gifted with such timeless sanctuaries that exist on our doorstep?
For me, this is the Best of the West, places that hold memories of the past in the present. Places that bring my mind home time after time. The forest in Colin Glen allows me the opportunity to lose myself and reconnect with nature as I hear the birdsong sing the song of now and I get lost in the beauty of life.
Mother Nature continues to bless us with her beauty. She’s the gift that keeps on giving: flowers in full bloom, leaves greener than I’ve ever seen.
All we have to do is take the time, open our eyes and ears, and replenish ourselves with the sense of wonder, and, as Van Morrison says, remember now.
Here’s a poem to ponder on by the wonderful poet Mary Oliver.
Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down, who is gazing around, with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I’ve been doing all day.
Tell me what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
