Mindfulness is sold as a thing you can ‘do’ or ‘consume’ to calm down, feel better, and basically improve whatever misery you’re going through.
Like a supplement or pill, you add it into your self-care routine alongside sorghum moss and face yoga then go about your day enjoying the benefits of feeling less stressed and more chill.
But mindfulness isn’t like a supplement or pill, if anything, it’s more like a diet.
It applies at all hours of the day. Not just at practice time, when, of course, it matters.
But just as importantly, it applies in the moments when you’re walking through the supermarket and eyeing up the donuts or having midnight cravings or are about to choose between making pancakes or a salad or whatever.
Most people that sit and meditate spend 99.9% of there lives not sitting and meditating.
If change is going to happen anywhere, it’s going to be in that 99.9%. I mean, do you know how many minutes that is? Me neither.
Even if something miraculous does happens when your buttcheeks are on the cushion, it can be undone the moment you stand up and step on the dogs chew toy or walk into the door or go to work or spill your coffee and curse your husband/wife because it’s obviously their fault.
Everything is their fault.
When mindfulness is a quick-fix pill to feel better and reduce misery, misery doesn’t go away.
Like old packs of donuts and sweets and chocolate biscuits, it just gets pushed to the back of the cupboard.
The cupboard is always there, getting in your face and taunting you…
And on those occasions when you’re feeling especially low or fragile, the cupboard suddenly bursts open and you make sweet love to every single thing that’s in it.
In other words, pills are a good distraction but they never change the nature of life.
No matter how many you take or how good they are, the slightest inconvenience, disruption, or unwanted event—actual, imaginary, or anticipated—that causes pain or discomfort—physical, psychological, or emotional—will always remain and only increase in power as threats to your peace of mind and as violence against your soul.
Say you’re staying at an Airbnb for a few nights.
The first morning, you happily skip downstairs fresh after your meditation and head straight for the coffee.
You suddenly realize the (inconsiderate) host didn’t leave any coffee or capsules for the machine. Worse, the (inconsiderate) weather is unleashing a just plain mean amount of rain and there’s no sign of a damn umbrella (eugh, damn host).
Good vibes and day ruined.
Anything unwanted is like being on Atkins and someone forcing a chocolate cake down your throat.
Everything is fine as long as you stay in your little perfect bubble.
Popping mindfulness pills may mean you’re more ‘mindful’ or aware of what comes in and out of your little perfect bubble. Making, for the most part, your life more pleasant, productive, and optimized.
But, if you’re honest, you’re more miserable than ever.
How could you be anything but?
If it’s not the coffee that’s just ran out, it’s a loved one who’s just been diagnosed with an illness, it’s a lost job, a missed opportunity, an injury, a heartbreak, a traffic jam, a missed deadline, an annoying colleague, a chew toy, a mosquito bite, or any other of the endless offensive carbs that have potential to gluten bomb you in a given day.
This is just one of the major side effects of treating mindfulness as a feel good pill.
Mindfulness is not a what you can do or take and forget about, it’s more like a how or a way of doing things that you can bring to any hour, situation, or moment of the day.
Like slapping a balm on a burn or doing the occasional detox, it’s okay to take the remedial approach to soothing your mind every now and again.
But if you’re also the one stepping into the fire or the local McDonalds, then it bears stopping and asking the question of how you’re actually using mindfulness.
Is it a relieving pill to feel good and avoid misery? Which, in turn, maintains misery because it stops you from noticing and taking action on the things you care about most and reduces your ability to face discomfort, take responsibility, and find a deeper sense of meaning, connection, and fulfillment in your life?
Or, is it more like the often boring and difficult but fundamentally nourishing diet plan that makes you less popular at dinner parties but instills in you a deep, unshakeable sense of peace, joy, and contentment?
Just like a good diet, the benefits of mindfulness are real. But practicing it doesn’t always feel like getting a big sloppy kiss from your teen celebrity crush. Nor should it.
A lot of the time, it sucks.
But here’s the good news. Every time you embrace the suckiness and put aside the pleasure pills, you’re strengthening your ability to stay instead of jumping through the escape hatch from life.
You’re realizing that you don’t need to pretend that life should and could be some other way.
It’s only when you put down the pills and close the escape hatch that you can begin to really practice mindfulness—accepting what can’t be change, taking action to change what can be, and letting go of all the rest—and thus, really live.
Until next time amigos, steer clear of the mindfulness pills.
Hugs,
Joe
P.S I’m nearly at 1000 subscribers. At this point, I will be able to dedicate more of my time to the newsletter, create more content, and reach more people. Help me reach this goal and create something amazing by sharing this post with someone you think may like it!