Congratulations to Tuesday’s election winners. For me it was a practice moment: feeling joy and hope, and not turning those into something else with regard to the losers.

Which is a practice I can’t do without my basic, present moment attention practice. Which always begs the question of how to cultivate that. If mindfulness is present moment attention, courage, and grace, how do we cultivate the first one?

It’s simple (and not easy): we give ourselves time for stillness. To me this is mostly like giving myself a treat every day. Mostly but not every time, because sometimes I struggle. I eye my meditation cushion warily, as if it’s dragging me away from the fun.

But actually, sitting down anyway is always the right choice for me. Even if I set my timer for just five minutes, I feel relief. Why? I’m not forgoing my practice, for one – commitment kept. I’m continuing to re-wire my brain to stay in the present moment, where the science says happiness lies – and who can’t use a little more happiness right now, even after Tuesday? And, I’m being kind to myself, which makes me kinder to others, including…everyone, which to me is worth all the rest.

We know the practice: present moment awareness. But how do we practice when things are so rough and torn?

First, with love. The invitation, moment by moment, is, can I bring not only awareness, but also love?

Second, with courage. Because no matter how much love we bring, this mind, this body, this world, will present challenges. It’s nothing personal - it’s just the way things work. So, courage.

And third, with grace. When I googled grace, I got three things: simple elegance, courteous goodwill, and doing honor by one’s presence. I like all three, for all of us, moment by moment by moment.

Also, Happy Halloween!

Now that everyone and everything is mindful (except the federal government), is mindfulness diluted? I was starting to wonder so I’m digging into the question, starting with, “What is mindfulness, or ‘wise mindfulness’?” which is the next step on the path.

From 10,000 feet, to me mindfulness is looking in and looking up. Looking in, by practicing stillness, examining our fabulous minds and hearts, and then training them to focus and be loving and connect.

And it’s also looking in and up, by (1) stopping throughout the day, (2) taking a breath, (3) noticing our thoughts & feelings plus what we, and everyone else, seems to need, (4) considering how to get those needs met without causing harm, and then (5) changing our minds, if necessary, to do that.

Does that make sense? Of course mindfulness is much more, too. Join me on the Wake Up Call….

When I look out at the human landscape right now, it feels like joy is in short supply. Sometimes it’s present, but plenty of moments cry out for an infusion of joy.

The first step, or one of the first, on the mindfulness path, is “wise effort.” In the past I’ve taken “wise” to mean the diligence to develop practices like paying attention, caring, and peace.

I still think that, but I also think attitude matters. If I’m making diligent effort with a joyful heart/mind, joy gets infused into the moment. If my diligent effort is laced with resignation or resistance, those get infused.

The great news is, we get to choose our states of mind. So why not choose joy, and then put diligent, joyful energy into practice? When I remember to do that, practice is more fun, plus joy follows me into the day. I wonder what would happen if we could all remember to do that, even a little bit more?

♥️♥️

We’re all on one path or another. Sometimes it’s the path of least resistance. Sometimes it’s the yellow brick road. Sometimes, to slightly misquote Robert Frost, it’s the path least traveled.

For me the point is, to choose. Which is what mindfulness is all about. Stop, take a breath, observe what’s happening, and then choose the path. And crucially, ask before choosing, “Where will this lead?”

Will it lead to connection and kindness, even if it must also lead to the win? Or will it lead to pain and sorrow? If I go left versus right or right versus left, am I bringing love into the mix, or hate? Generosity, or greed? Clarity, or confusion? As Pema Chodron invites us to ask, am I practicing peace or am I going to war?

Good yontif you’re celebrating Yom Kippur. And to everyone, what is your day about today? What’s your intention for the day? And are you experiencing suffering?

Not, are you experiencing pain and sorrow? We are all experiencing that, if we’re paying attention, given the world. But are you experiencing the suffering that happens when we clench our fist or grasp for something to be other than it is, or rail at the world - are you experiencing that? If so, then letting go is the classical answer to the question of how to stop suffering on a personal level. But how do we let go when there’s so much at stake?

If we mean letting go of caring, we can’t. And we never should. We should care, always, and act as well, in all the ways that we can.

If we mean letting go of wishing the moment or friend or lover or leader or world, was different, we can. It can be hard, for me at least, because it means unclenching my fist, my jaw, my mind. I can come up with so many reasons why not to do that.

But if I let go of those reasons, too, and open my hand anyway, and place it on my heart, and say to myself, this moment is like this, then I can do it. And then I can get to work.

This moment is like this, I care, we all do. There is work to do, that is always, and we need to roll up our sleeves, now more than ever, and do it. And always as well, this moment is like this.

What causes suffering? An ancient question with an ancient answer, and surprisingly, it’s not the hard things in life. It’s the way we think about them.

It’s not the ridiculous amount of work on my plate or the unfair judge that causes suffering. It’s not the impossible partner or the associate who’s always late. It’s not even the scary diagnosis, or the fact that we’ll all get a scary diagnosis some day.

It’s the way we push back, internally, against it all – or the way I do, anyway. The way the mind relates to difficulty as if it shouldn’t be happening. Or the way, when something is good, I want more, or I want the other good thing, or I want them both.

It's all that wanting, that desire; the exhaustion, at least for me, of wanting things to be different than they are. Not in the systemic or political sense – to me, it’s good to want change in that sense – but in the moment. In the moment – in this breath – when, really, I know: right now, things can only be just as they are.

In classical mindfulness there are six different realms, including the human realm which is considered the best one in which to wake up. One of the reasons for that, is that it’s not easy being human. We get old, we get sick, we die. We lose things and we also lose people. We get into arguments and if we’re lawyers, those can be consequential for us and for our clients so we have to win. The world hits us hard. And there’s so much to do: every day we have to earn a living plus take care of ourselves and so many others.

So why this is such a great realm? Wouldn’t it be nicer to live in a realm where all is bliss? Not really. Because if we lived in one of those, we’d be surrounded by ease, and we might just sit around and eat bon-bons. We wouldn’t have to learn how to be kind to those who seem like they don’t deserve kindness, or compassionate to those who are afraid, or calm when the world is on fire.