Everyday Mindfulness by Melisa Steginus (a book review)

In the midst of the multitude of pandemics (racial, health, economic, and political) we are facing, Steginus’ work Everyday Mindfulness is good company for the journey. The book explores a practical step-by-step approach to exercise mindfulness and offers appreciated rationale for the practice. The book is broken into 108 days. An easy-to-follow daily practice, with different exercises corresponding with each day. At the end of each day there are a set of reflection questions which allow the reader an opportunity to get present to the impact of the practices of that particular day. What I like about this book is that it progresses overtime. In my view, it asks the reader to engage deeper and deeper into mindfulness as you move through the work.

I don’t know if this was the author’s explicit intention, but this work is something that I would come back to often, repeating the practices throughout my life. As I read, I was reminded that for me, mindfulness is like exercise – it is not something you do once and done, it’s a daily practice. In the same way physical exercise strengthens the body; mindfulness (as an exercise) strengthens our emotional and spiritual body. The book closes nicely, a quote toward the end truly resonated with me, “Trust yourself amid distractions. Trust that you have the capacity for your empowerment, fulfillment, and transformation. And trust that the world will be receptive to what you have to offer.” In a world filled with misgivings, this book, Everyday Mindfulness, and the invitations for growth populated throughout truly make it a friend and centering force in a time of many disruptions.

Nothing to Lose.

We are living in some of the most dynamic times I have ever seen in my life. During this season, joy, awareness, and truth are all being birthed. At the same time, pain is rising, relationships are finding themselves strained, and long-seen challenges are rising to the surface. 

In recent days much consideration has been given to mental health: offering grace to those in need of it, offering compassion. – While those gifts are deserving to be bestowed on others, we must first bestow those on ourselves.

I have witnessed first-hand the verbal and physical abuse that can be activated by others plagued by depression, wrecked by the disease known as being bi-polar, and resistant to acknowledging the blind spots that derive from low self-worth. As a child, I had no mechanism to protect my own spiritual, emotional, and physical health; but as a an adult, I must take full responsibility for the space I allow others to take up, for the ways in which I allow myself to be treated, and the ways I allow others to let words slip from their tongue toward me that are emotionally violent.

No sickness: alcoholism, depression, low self-worth, or emotional instability gives anyone permission to show up in ways that make vulnerable our spirit, that put our emotional energy in peril, that further activate pain, and don’t call to our greatness, our beauty, and our inherit worth that was granted not by a human, but the Divine.

Boundaries are not harsh, boundaries are not mean, boundaries are not selfish, boundaries are love. You and I are great, powerful, gifted, and created to spread light on this earth. However,  to protect those truths, the environment we create for ourselves in our friends, in family (by birth and chosen) must speak to the things in which we are. When others are unable, unwilling, or not in agreement of the truths I named (for myself)– I must let them go.

I can only allow someone to speak  to me in a way that is less than loving once – that first time was their burden to carry – the second time though, that is where I must own my responsibility for awareness in already knowing what people can offer and what they cannot. 

I now lovingly decline apologies. I decline apologies offered by others who have not first offered an apology to themselves. An apology to oneself looks like therapy, it looks like a mental health evaluation by a clinically trained psychiatrist, it looks like rehab for addiction, it looks like group therapy for anger, it looks like making active change in one's life when jealousy is the anchor for one’s poor behavior – these are just a small number of examples in a laundry list of many.

One time is too many, two times should never happen. The first  time a person calls  you out your name, using their lips to spew hate, using their hands to curate harm is too many… – But there is no excuse: childhood neglect, bi-polar disorder, alcohol/drug abuse, depression, low-self-worth that should allow that to happen again. There are clinicians, medications, facilities, and a host of other interventions that can prevent a second occurrence.  If people can powerfully decline help, then I can powerfully decline their apology and let them go. 

Remember, in letting go of harmful people, letting go of broken people, letting go those who use low self-worth and depression as a response to poor behavior – let them ALL go. Because you have nothing to lose, by letting go of what does not serve your highest calling. 

In all things, toward all people (most importantly yourself) move with LOVE. 

Still. Have Joy.

Here, in the U.S. and across the globe the COVID-19 pandemic has illuminated so much, inflicted much hardship, and invited spaces of pain.  For those of us though, who can find the space, and consideration, I want us to question where we can still find joy. 

A couple of weeks ago, I was on a morning run. That week, here in Chicago, we had gotten the mandate that all parks and running trails would be closed. As part of my maintenance of my mental health, a run along the beautiful lake front of Chicago is one of the greatest balms to my soul when it is fret with anxiety.

I started my run, full of frustration, instead of dodging sand, pebbles, and dogs that are frolicking along the beach, I am dodging cars, service vehicles, and delivery trucks. Instead of hearing the sounds of waves crashing along the shore, I am met with horns, and the clitter and clatter of city streets.

As I was musing in my frustration, I remembered a story from one of my favorite ministers. He once shared about one of his parishioners and how years earlier she had -had a stroke.  He goes on to tell the story about how he went to visit her in the hospital – the stroke had been severe, and she had loss the use of right-side of her body.   When he got to the hospital, he expected her to be depressed, frustrated, and angry by the state of her condition.  When he got there, he was surprised to hear a boisterous and joy-filled voice greeting him.  Taken back by her joy, she began to explain, that she was going to use the half of her body that did work, to lift the other half that didn’t work – she went on to speak of having joy, having faith, having resilience in the half she had left.

Many of us are working on half, and I recognize that each of our halves look different – “comparison is the thief of joy” and I would not dare to try to compare one person’s “living on half” to another.  What, I will say though, is again, as we can, as we are able - where like that church parishioner, can we Still. Have Joy.

In this season of “social distancing” I have been more socially connected than ever before.  I have done Zoom nights with family, virtual game nights with friends, laughed as I watched TV virtually with others…have reconnected with communities I have not talked to in years.  I have been more present to those around me and spent moments in reflection without the constant considerations of upcoming travel. I have gotten present to our collective responsibility to give where we can.

Recently, I made a donation to Family Promise  - an organization that is dedicated to helping those with housing and food insecurities. As you are able, I would encourage you to give to those causes that speak to your heart.

I say thank you more to the grocery store clerk, the mail carrier, those who prepare meals at my favorite restaurants.  When this is over, and we get back our “other half” let us, yes, let some things from the difficult season go, but let us also let some things remain. Let gratitude remain, let resilience remain, let faith in one another remain, let love remain.

Until the day we can all gather together at our favorite café, synagogue, temple, church, bar, theater, or running path along the lake in Chicago; let us give voice to our pain, let us honor our anxiety, and as we are able in recognizing the difficulties let us take a moment as we can and look with an unwavering sense of hope that even in the midst of hard times we can still have joy.