THE  birds they sang at the break of day

Start again I heard them say.

Don’t hold on to yesterday or what is yet to be

Ring the bell, the bell that rings,

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.

Leonard Cohen
 
Practicing mindfulness has a great way of teaching me how to be present and to wake up to what’s happening now. I remember one time when I was experiencing some anxiety, worrying about what was going to happen and anticipating that something bad was going to happen.

 

I had applied for a job and had just finished my interview and I was waiting for the result of the interview. My head began telling me that I didn’t get the job, they didn’t like me.
I should have dressed differently and I should replied differently.
 
Yes, this was the story I was telling myself. To be honest, if I’d been walking down the Falls and someone was telling me what I was telling myself, I would have phoned the cops and got them lifted.
 
The good news is that I was able to take time to come to my senses. To be kinder, softer, gentler with myself. Neuroscience tells us that the heightened state of catastrophic thinking comes from our sympathetic nervous system (releasing adrenalin and cortisol).
 
It’s at this time that we need to hack into our para-sympathetic nervous system (which releases dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin and endorphins).
 
I was able to do this by simply connecting with my senses: sight, sound, smell, touch, taste and, most of all, connecting with my gut. 

I began tuning into this moment by practising the following:
 
I sat on a chair, noticing how the chair supports my body, noticing the weight of my body on the seat. Then noticed contact with the floor, sensing the floor beneath my feet.

Then brought my attention to my breath, noticing how I breathed, without judging or analysing, noticed the quality of my breath, this breath that is always present, noticing the ebb and flow and allowing my attention to rest on my breath.

I did this for a few minutes and as sure as I’m typing this piece, my mind was at peace, coming home from worrying about what happened or what was going to happened and then took rest in the words of Leonard’s song...
 
The birds they sang at the break of day

Start again I heard them say.

Don’t hold on to yesterday

Or what has yet to be.