Silence

What emerges from the stillness, the silence?

"For almost three decades, John Francis has been a planetwalker, traveling the globe by foot and sail with a message of environmental respect and responsibility (for 17 of those years without speaking). A funny, thoughtful talk with occasional banjo."

On Eliminating the Word "Perfect"

Do you ever feel like a hypocrite?

Here I am sharing ideas about mindfulness.  And sometimes I have moments, days, or weeks when I feel like I've hardly been mindful about anything.  I'm buzzing about, distractedly thinking about what's coming next.  I experience these times both at school and in other settings.

It's easy for me to blame.  It's the schedule, it's other people, it's my own poor planning.

But I think I feel like a hypocrite at those times of little focus because I'm too busy striving for something that simply does not exist: perfection.  In this case, I'll define perfection as a state in which the outer circumstances and my inner experience matching identically with a mental vision of how I believe things ought to be right now.  Eckhart Tolle reminds us that such clinging to how we want things to be leads to unhappiness.  Accepting and experiencing what actually is right now - living in the present moment - leads to fulfillment.

So this is my case for eliminating the word "perfect" from our usage - or at least changing its meaning to accept whatever is at the moment.  The more I recognize that I'll never be perfect (according to my own conception of what perfect is), and neither will my students or anyone else, the easier it is to accept what is, to respond lovingly to things as they are, and to live more fully.

Practice

A common theme keeps emerging for me:  It's regular practice that makes mindfulness valuable.  "Frequency of practice, far more than duration, primarily determines boosters' impact," writes Schoeberlin (p.91).  Boosters, she explains, are simply little breaks during the day to practice mindfulness.  In the classroom it might be 30 seconds of silence as a break during a discussion or asking students to stand up for a stretch break (Schoeberlin).  These simple activities that some teachers have always guided their students with serve as a boost to one's mindfulness.  They redirect our attention back to ourselves - mind, body, spirit.  Simple, really.

I heard the same advice about regularity of practice, not primarily duration, a couple weeks ago at a workshop on Men, Zen, and Nature.  If daily meditation of twenty minutes is a goal I'm not achieving, then work with what I can do - and maybe that's just five minutes each day.  The point was the same as Schoeberlin's:  Practice regularly.  Don't worry about how long you're doing it.

I think that's particularly valuable advice for beginners like me.  It's encouraging to be affirmed that guiding myself and students in exercises are transformative to the extent that we observe them on a regular basis.  Keep doing it and let those brain synapses strengthen.  What we practice grows stronger, and science supports that, too.

So this is a call to persistence and regularity.  Just keep doing the good stuff.  And when you don't, start by being aware.

How We Do Things

On dark early mornings in Arizona years ago, a scrap of paper tucked in the side of our hallway mirror invoked anyone looking to "do small things with great love."  The prior occupants of our home had left this pencil-written reminder attributed to Mother Theresa.  So as I'd tie my tie before driving to school I'd be gently prodded that today is more about how I go about my business rather than just what I do.

I knew then it was true and still do.  Think of how you or someone else has said the simple phrase "o.k."  Is the meaning the same when spoken out of frustration or patience?  Acceptance or resistance?

Or how about the spirit with which we do things while on vacation as compared to busy times of every day life?  Have you ever freely enjoyed some typically mundane task like food shopping, washing dishes, or walking somewhere while on vacation?  How we do what we do matters.

Feeling pressured to enter another post here on this blog makes the process less satisfying and the results suffer, too.  It's like trying to grow good tomatoes in bad soil.

Helping us to see how we're currently doing what we do is the role of good mindfulness practices.  How do we speak to one another?  What kind of attention do we really pay to our students?  Are we really listening to what our own bodies and hearts are saying to us?  Do we hear what the earth is asking of us?

All of this matters.  If you're hungry for some encouragement and practical approaches, try reading any of the very accessible writings by Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh.

And if you wish, try slowing down during at least one moment today.  I'll be working on that with you.

Practicing Kindness

Practicing anything helps us get good at it.

Schoeberlein reminds us that we need experiential learning.  And I buy that.

So most of Schoeberlein's suggestions really have to do with helping students do some learning for themselves - understanding themselves better, considering their own learning styles, and being more in synch with others.  This time the author's suggestions are about practicing some very simple kindness and reflecting on it.  This kind of approach helps not just in life but in learning, as well. 

The more we can help students experience their learning, the better.  Whether the topic is kindness or history content, it's not enough to just discuss concepts.  If students' experiences of success help motivate them, it's more likely to make a difference for them - and they'll learn more.

I am also reminded that different groups of students will interact with mindfulness practices in different ways, some of them with great skepticism or distaste.  And that's alright.  Maybe it's not for them.  Maybe focusing on some specific skills like listening, studying, or remembering is the best starting point for those students.

This is all about our shared experience of learning - and that happens together.  I need that feedback from students just as they need direction from me.  Learning and teaching is much more artful than formulaic.

Clear Seeing

Chapter 4 is all about training our vision to facilitate our work (Schoeberlein p. 53).  Here's why we need training:  We see a person or event or object that looks like one we've previously had a bad experience with.  Without consciously thinking, we feel some negative emotion and quickly respond negatively.  Later we regret how we responded.  I know we've all done it, maybe more often than we'd prefer to acknowledge.

If we instead practice some clear and mindful seeing with non-emotionally loaded scenarios, people, or objects, then we're better prepared for the real thing, suggests Schoeberlein.  The author offers us teachers some guidelines for activities and games to help students and us practice this clear seeing.

I admit that something like the memory game or mindful seeing activity Schoeberlein describes seem kind of silly for high school students.  If we're bogged down with mindfulness activities, when will we learn the actual history or government content?

I also concede that blending in appropriate elements of process - how to see, think, and draw connections - is indeed relevant for the content/process blend in a social studies classroom.  And I'm also reminded that experience can be the best teacher.  So I encourage all the teachers out there - including me - to take a few chances in working in some experiential processes for our students. 

We all need practice and training in how we do things.  This is true for ourselves and our students.  In the end we're also likely to see positive results in both the process and the objective outcomes like degree of focus, memory, and grades.

"A Contest of Wills"

While I've been feeling engaged and interested by Schoeberlein's Mindful Teaching book, I'm eager for some practical teaching ideas.  Intentionally, I have allowed myself some weeks to practice the suggestions I've previously shared from the first couple chapters of the book.

Now we get to some simple but practical ideas.  Schoeberlein writes about something that I have been challenged by during much of my teaching.  Some might say it's no big deal.  It's starting class.

Yes, the way many of us teachers start class sets up an immediate confrontation, "a contest of wills" that sets the tone for the remaining class time together (Schoeberlein, p. 43).  I say to my students that respect and listening is key.  But then I start class by telling everyone to be quiet.  Well, actually I usually say "Good afternoon" or "Let's begin, please."

I know this is tricky.  One major frustration is that class or student who just doesn't seem to respond to anything patient.  I don't think he/she wants to be yelled at, but is that all that elicits a response?  And I'm not getting paid to just hang out with the students - we need to get started.

So Schoeberlein offers some simple ways to get students refocused right away, in a positive way that avoids that "contest of wills."  How do we get peoples' attention in social settings?  Loudly say "good morning" over the group's din?  No, we more likely share something that genuinely interests others, tell a great story, offer a joke, or make some music - these may work to encourage people to willingly redirect their attention.  So while I'm a bit unsure, especially for those high-energy classes, I think that beginning class with a chime, an occasional riddle, a photo that's actually interesting, or a poem just might not be a bad idea.

I know it's not really a new idea.  There's "hooks" and "bellwork" and "anticipatory sets" to get students going.  This is really just a slight variation on the theme, but I like the ideas and the principles behind it.  Besides, I agree with Schoeberlein that even cordially starting class solely with my verbal cue gets old and tiring for me and the students, I'm sure.

As I expand my ideas here for starting class well, I encourage you to consider how you begin things - your own class, meetings, lunch, phone calls, coming home from work or school or errands.  Might starting with a deep breath and awareness of yourself and your company improve the encounter?  It can't hurt to try today.