By Margaret Cahill, author of Under Cover of Darkness: How I Blogged my Way through Mantle Cell Lymphoma
Do you ever get a very un-spiritual attack of ‘I found it first’? I’m having one of those at the moment with the whole mindfulness gravy train. Here’s a bit of background.
When I was diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer a couple of years ago, my partner Stephen, who is Managing Editor for Watkins Mind, Body Spirit magazine (so he gets to see all the good books first), suggested I read Thich Nhat Hanh’s lovely book, Fear. It turned out to be an excellent suggestion and the book was never far from my side as I fought to stay calm and positive in the face of extreme illness. Then he suggested Rachel Neumann’s book, Not Quite Nirvana, in which I discovered that she is Thich Nhat Hanh’s editor, responsible for turning his boxes of notes into the beautifully simple books I was now devouring. Although I had been aware of mindfulness for a while, it wasn’t especially high profile at that time (2012/13); it also hadn’t figured very highly on my list of spiritual practices, because despite having gone through some tough times, I hadn’t needed to deal with the gut-wrenching fear that a cancer diagnosis brings. I quickly came to appreciate exactly how powerful mindfulness is.
During most of my treatment I was in hospital for several days at a time, every three weeks, and I needed some focus to help me get through the long hours on the drip; now firmly on the trail of mindfulness (is that an oxymoron, I wonder?) I found and downloaded onto my laptop The Bell Chant – the version that is used as the overlay to the flashmob meditation in Trafalgar Square in June 2011 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mqZA5cToPgs. I played it endlessly, plugged into my headphones as the chemotherapy seeped into my veins. It reached right into the deepest places of my fear, and for 7 minutes and 38 seconds I was connected to all those lovely people sitting meditating in the sunshine. It was a much-needed escape, and I always came out of it feeling refreshed and a whole lot more positive.
Then Stephen passed me a book on Zentangle – the art of drawing, without drawing to de-stress – which is actually just like the doodles I used to do all over my school books. OK, a teeny bit more complicated, but nevertheless an extremely clever marketing exercise that I threw myself into as it was perfect for taking into hospital. So I would often be found sitting on my hospital bed, plugged into The Bell Chant, happily doodling, I mean zentangling away. It brought me great calmness and serenity and I would really recommend it.
Thankfully I am now in remission, but the mindfulness practice continues, and it has now affected every aspect of our lives; after all, that is what a spiritual practice does. We have the Lotus App on our phones which we use at work, regularly pausing to focus on the breath and take ourselves back to a point of calmness, which is very welcome in a busy day. As indeed do several million other people, judging by the number of books and courses offered on the subject. In fact it would be very hard for anyone not to be aware of mindfulness now, and this is where that little bit of uppity-ness sneaked in – one which I’m not very proud of, but it is better out than in. It has started to feel like my spiritual life-saver is being defiled and bastardised. We now have Mindful Cooking, Mindful Colouring, Mindful Eating, you name it…
But then the wonderful bit happened, as it always does when I write a blog; I realised that it really doesn’t matter. What started out looking to me like mass marketing of a precious spiritual practice is actually finding its way to the people that need it, and I’m sure that Thich Nhat Hanh would wholeheartedly approve. And that can only be good news as we work our way towards greater peace and tranquillity. And that’s brilliant. So I’m not grumpy any more.
Margaret Cahill has her own blog at margaretcahill.wordpress.com and would love you to pop in to say ‘Hi’.