Mindful Moment: the Boy and the Bee

My grandson fell on his hands and knees staring at a new speck on the trampoline. A much needed summer storm had just passed through drought-stricken Utah. Emerson and his mom, Tenika, were enjoying the cooler weather outside and Emerson went to investigate. A bee was drying its wings after the storm. Tenika captured the moment in these two photos.

My journey studying the brain and neuroplasticity has taught me much about the power of mindful moments. Taking the time to observe and describe moments like this one creates space for quiet reflection. It is a practice session for the busier and more challenging times that we face. I don’t judge whether it is good or bad for a child to notice a bee sitting on the trampoline. I don’t judge whether or not the bee should be there. I just notice and describe. The thoughts in my mind sound like this:

“Here is my two year old grandson. He is on his knees, getting down low and close because he noticed something different is in his jumping space. His mom looks too and together they noticed the details of the stripes on the bee’s back, the wings, the antennae and the pollen covering the bee’s body.”

Mindfulness is the basic human ability to be fully present and aware of the current moment. It is observing and describing the moment without judgement or distraction. It is also easier to talk about than to do. Living mindfully takes practice AND it is attainable.

As I recall my personal journey down the path to mindfulness, I realize how much I misunderstood in the beginning. I thought being mindful meant that I had to meditate for long periods of time. I couldn’t quiet my mind so, for many years, I gave up trying. I decided that meditation just wasn’t for me. I needed an entry point, a way to begin where I could feel successful.

Observing and describing (a skill I learned in Dialectic Behavior Therapy with my youngest daughter) became the entry point that I needed. I learned to pause, notice and describe moments such as the one experienced by my grandson and the bee drying its wings on the trampoline. I began to feel the power in noticing and describing without judgement.

Nature was the easiest place to start. Seeing a “beautiful sunset” changed for me. Instead of giving the sunset a label, I started noting the colors: pinks, oranges, yellows, reds. I noticed the sun as it descended behind the mountains and the gradual change from dusk to dark. I started noticing the details I saw in leaves: the variety of colors and shapes, the veins, the seeds, and the ways the leaves were grouped on different plants. I started noticing the expressions of the faces of people around me. Instead of thinking, “He looks angry,” I would notice the furrowed brow, the movement in the eyes, and the shape of his mouth. I quickly realized that I had a much greater connection with others and an ability to listen to experiences when I removed the initial judgement and, instead, spent my mental energy describing the experience.

My entry point is simply noticing judgements and making an effort to describe instead of labeling an experience or another person’s behavior. It increases my awareness and my connections to people and life. Both tranquility and strength are found in this space.