Yesterday was a day of Mindfulness like no other I can remember—7 hours standing and
sitting in a street promoting our group’s monthly meeting for everyday
mindfulness. At my town’s Summer Festival, I am surrounded by people setting up
their gazebo’s and selling their wares—baskets, beers, hats, t-shirts, a jobs around
the home network, a bouncy castle and face-painting for kids, exotic foods,
garlic…. and that’s just what I can see from my pitch—there is much more beyond;
an explosion of delights and intrigue for the senses.
The smells and sounds grow, the
weather is kind and people are coming. I feel excited, exposed, and yes….. a
bit embarrassed. There’s no way this is going to go well!
Waiting…… being still…… waiting…… being still…… waiting…… there are lots
of people here, and as the day warms up, steadily, more and more wander
by. In my allocated spot on the
shady side of the street, I have a table, a couple of chairs and I have some
laminated sheets with big coloured letters—strung out like bunting—flapping like flags in the
breeze. ‘N O W’ the one in front says, and on the table-top there are the
words, ‘Noticing, Observing, Witnessing’, and ‘Patient, Open-Minded, Trusting,
Non-Striving, Accepting, Letting Go, Non Judging’—the seven pillars of Mindfulness—plus a small leaflet to
give to people or let them take, which explains about the group. Not exactly a
classy get-up, but a presence of sorts anyway.
The friendly (and they are friendly) stall-holders around me
start trading straight away and they use all the ancient tools and techniques
of selling. They are jolly, chatty, smiley, they walk up to people, they make a
lot of eye and body-contact, they call out, they make jokes and bustle around—and money flows. In the
past, I’ve done my fair share of pitching, but not today. Today I’m just
(non)doing; being what it says on the Mindful tin—as best I can—and noticing. Noticing the families, babies,
children, friends, lovers, infirmity, beauty, athleticism, shy, bold, loud…..
train of colourful people drifting by, back and forth—all diversity of life is here—including a lot of other amazing animals
of the ‘pet’ variety too! I am dazzled by it all and now, just about beginning
to relax and enjoy the festivities.
Mostly, people
go by looking quizzically and with polite curiosity at the N O W and me. If I
see more than a passing flicker of interest, I move in a little bit towards
them asking ‘Hi, are you local?’ Not in a predatory way I hope—more like a horse-whisperer
than a salesman! It surprises me to learn how many people already know about
our group and Mindfulness, and say they haven’t gotten round to doing anything
about it, but that they really should. So it’s a chance for me to describe a
bit about what we do and don’t do and for them to see and meet the one who
‘guides’ the group (not just meeting me, because thankfully, there is another
group member with me at the stand some of the time and that’s really helpful
for them to see her friendly presence and talk to her too).
And the stories,
the heart-rending stories; ‘I’ve left my wife and kids—it was for the best’;
‘If we don’t get more mindful soon we’ll get dragged into another war’; ‘I’ve
been depressed, my doctor says mindfulness would help’; ‘It’s hard being a
single parent and having the responsibility for everything’. They don’t ask
much about, ‘What do you do in the group?’—they hungrily want to express and share
their special stories of lived-lives. One person I meet tells me she has
recently lost her husband—she is in tears right away, and full of apology. I am
there. I listen. I’m present with her—and all my own stuff too.
So many people
associating Mindfulness with therapy and getting ‘fixed’. I gently tell them we
don’t do therapy, we turn towards and reflect on the ‘What Is’ of life and we
learn to accept and let go. And it’s not all about the practice either, which
many of them say they do or have lapsed from. It’s not what they expect and
probably disappoints them, but somehow they seem comforted and reassured and
want carefully to check the details of coming to the group’s next meeting. I wonder how many of these people will
join us—could be standing-room only next time! It doesn’t matter.