There’s a misunderstanding that mindfulness is about suffering. The truth is, mindfulness is about the end of suffering and how to go there. It’s optimistic. Given the moment, that seems like something we can all use.

Mindfulness originated with Siddhartha, who became known as the Buddha, which means, “awake.” The Buddha was many things including a phenomenal psychologist, who mapped the mind and then showed how to work with it to cultivate happiness, even in the most difficult of times.

Like all maps, the map of mindfulness can be layered on top of other maps, like the map of the legal mind. My question is, what happens when we do that?

Let’s go back to the very first mindfulness teaching, Setting in Motion the Wheel of the Dharma, and back to some early hypotheses about the legal mind. And see how the mapping looks.

What does it mean to approach each moment, each day, as if it’s the most ordinary day? How would it feel to do that?

And what if it’s not an ordinary day? What if it’s the day of a big trial, or your birthday, or the 500th Wake Up Call?

I’m learning that to practice mindfulness – to really practice, moment by moment, day after day – is to pretty much say: no matter what’s happening, practice with it. No matter how momentous, no matter how terrible, be there, and be kind. Be kind, be compassionate, be patient and generous – practice these, in each moment. Let wisdom float to the surface before saying or doing anything, any time.

I’m learning that the best day of life and the worst are ordinary and not different, with practice. And I’m learning how reassuring and comforting that is.

The Wake Up Call @499

Ten years ago, the Wake Up Call was an unlikely dream, of a place for those of us who were practicing both law and mindfulness, to be together. And here we are, at Wake Up Call #499.

Ten years plus, of exploring how these highly trained legal minds, and those of us who have them, can be different with, and benefit from, mindfulness. Howe we can be more effective. How we can be happier. How we can be of greater service to the world: more compassionate, wiser, more connected (especially more connected). How we can (maybe) inspire others to practice, and in doing that, change the cultures of our law firms and legal organizations. And in doing that, maybe, just maybe, slowly, change the world.

I feel so fortunate to be engaged in this lifelong endeavor with all of you, and grateful, too, for your company. And not just company, but courage and perseverance, in this endeavor and also in an unwavering commitment to change.

As Margaret Mead said so long ago, let’s all of us never doubt that we can create that change. As the Buddha said, let’s also not doubt we can be the change.

I sometimes think the world would run more smoothly if I were in charge. Or let’s face it: I often think that. Do you?

The problem, or one problem (because there are many), with this kind of thinking is, first I have to believe I know what’s best for others. I don’t mean when that’s my job. I mean when it’s my colleague or partner or kid.

The next problem is, when I think I know what’s best, I’m judging, or pitying, the other person for not knowing…especially when they don’t follow my thinking. Which makes it hard for me to approach them with positive regard: I know what’s best, they’re not paying attention, they’d deserve my positive regard if only they were.

So one thing I’m trying to do more is, not be in charge. What a relief. It’s so relaxing. It feels good to remember that, all evidence to the contrary, everyone is just doing their best. And it feels great to take the long view, the view of not knowing, and just be with what is.

There are people in the world who, at first glance (or second, or third), don’t seem to me to deserve positive regard. At all. Maybe there are people like that for you, too.

But in an ancient tale, five people are traveling through the forest: the leader, their beloved, a friend, a stranger, and a wicked person. The group is attacked, and one person must be sacrificed in return for safety for the rest. Whom should it be? The wicked person, if we’re being just? The leader themself, if they’re altruistic? But the answer is, no one.

Because if we sacrifice anyone, then instead of spending our energy cultivating a warm and connected heart, we have to keep in mind who’s in and who’s out. We’re in a constant process of “yes/no, yes/no,” “you but not you…,” as opposed to being in a constant process of listening, understanding, and caring.

Even when my intellect and emotional life feel like they’re in tune, I still have so many old, internal, tangles in my mind. And in any given moment, those tangles can cause me to tense up, grab hold, or turn away.

My tangles were probably formed a long time ago. Daily practice helps me to see them more clearly, and to begin, slowly and playfully, to untangle them. Practice that’s oriented towards connecting with and generating good will for myself and everyone, feels especially helpful.

Which means, practicing with the notion that everyone is basically the same: that everyone wants to be safe, happy, and healthy, and to live with ease. This is no big leap, really. At some level we know it’s true. But practicing with it as a notion, keeping it front and center, training the mind to remember we’re all in this together, training the heart to remember that we’re all connected? That feels like a commitment. A playful one, if we let it be, but a commitment.

It probably won’t change the world (unless it will). But it does feel like a good way to practice, and live.

What happens for you when your body or mind signals that it’s time to relax, and you pay attention to the signal? From a Netflix perspective, it might be just that: turn something on; turn off all the rest. That seems legit – I do it plenty.

From a mindfulness perspective, though, relaxation is different. It’s letting go. For me, it’s a few minutes in stillness, watching thoughts, emotions, and sensations arise, and lovingly letting them go. It’s a light touch, a commitment to go easy with each moment, each thought, this wandering mind, this being called “me.”

Relaxing the mind is the “loving” element of loving awareness. It’s rejuvenating and regenerative. It's the pause that allows wisdom and compassion to naturally arise. Best of all, it’s a sweet way to live.

I feel like we’re trying, every day, to be kind, and ethical, and to serve well. We’re even taking the time to cultivate these qualities.

And I also feel like when we fail, it’s hard. And even harder to turn towards the situation with clarity.

What gets in the way, for me, is justification and denial. And that’s when I slide backwards. Not because my “fail” is terrible, although it might be. But because I lose sight of the positive. Forget about all the goodness. And when that happens, it’s easier to make another mistake.

So what if we pay more attention to the positive, when it shows up? Log it into our memories, our bodies (which keep the score)? My guess is that then, in those, “oh no!” moments, the recollection of goodness will act like ballast, and it’ll be easier to turn towards the moment with courage, and clarity, and compassion. And ultimately, repair any harm (to others, and to ourselves).