Mindfully non-Pitching

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.

This has been a humbling experience and reminder for me. So many people want to have Mindfulness in their life and still there is much misunderstanding and suffering which we add to with the mind. I wonder about the difference between our stall and cause, which doesn’t ask for money and the other stall-holders who do. I guess regardless of whether money, goods and services exchanges hands, everyone is a potential customer for all of the stall-holders, and we’re all potential customers for each other. At the start of the day, I felt like I was the sore thumb in this collection of humanity, but now I see there is no difference between us—it’s about survival—we all need each other. Wouldn’t it be good though if there were a few more Mindful stall-holders out there, sharing what we know about the mind—not pitching—just being there in everyday life?