Someone asked a wonderful question in a closed community, and it turned out to generate a lot of reflection and thought on my own practice. I wanted to capture that and share my answer more openly.
Speaking as an engineering consultant, a farmer, and a father: I acknowledge that there are so many tasks that must be done with some degree of speed or urgency. We operate on deadlines. We have limited windows in which to accomplish things.
Mindfulness, to me, involves recognizing the appropriate response to the nature of the moment and acting accordingly. “This is a moment that requires urgency.” So I must operate with a sense of speed. But it does not have to be hurried. I can still operate mindfully, with full presence and awareness, while working quickly. I can participate without getting overwhelmed or getting lost in feelings of anxiety and worry.
I often think about a story I heard told by one Thich Nhat Hanh’s monastics – I don’t have a source, unfortunately, but a vague feeling it may have been Br. Phap Huu in an episode of “The Way Out is In” podcast. When traveling, Thay liked to practice mindful walking through the airport. They had done this and arrived at their gate, where they waited to board the flight. Just before time to board, an announcement came on, and their gate had moved to another across the airport. The monastic telling the story recalls that they looked at each other with concern – how would they make it to the gate in time given the slow pace of walking? Thay looked at them and said, “Run!”
In these moments, I can apply mindfulness to the body from time to time. Even in the most urgent of paces, I can afford to pause, to take a break, even if only for 10 seconds, even if only for one breath. I can notice if I have let emotions take control. I can notice if I need a break. I can pause, reconnect, and engage with the wonders around me. This is necessary to avoid getting caught up in the energy of rushing.
I also practice by identifying transition moments: when I am not required to move with speed any longer. Because it is so easy to let that energy carry over into moments that do not require any haste, or to channel it into an interaction with another person.
In my own life, a consistent moment of practice here is the transition from “cooking and plating dinner” to “enjoying dinner.” Often, cooking dinner is a focused, fast-paced event: I’m often making 2-3 dishes, cleaning up after myself as I work, prepping the table, plating food. I like to finish eating dinner with most of the cleanup already done so I get to play time right away. I like to serve and eat hot food. It’s focused, it’s fast, I enjoy it. But it’s easy to let that feeling carry on into dinner. The transition from “chef mode” to “dinner mode” occurs in the moment between when my plate touches the table and I sit down. If I am swept up by a feeling of rushing, it’s easy to scarf down the food before I realize what’s happened, then feeling the horror of realizing I didn’t even taste the food I worked so hard for! Instead, I know that is a moment of mindful practice: to recognize the change of pace, to return to the body with a few breaths. And that’s often enough to shift everything. If I feel the energy has not dissipated, I quietly recite the contemplations or an expression of gratitude, and mindfully eat the first bite.
The practice of mindfulness may also result in recognizing the moments where there is a tendency to rush. Once there is awareness, there is an opportunity to change the conditions and allow ourselves to move slower. Perhaps there’s recognition that some things need to be let go to make more space.
It is also useful to apply mindfulness to the impulse to rush itself. Do we actually need to rush? Are there real benefits in this moment? If I get swept up in a rush to leave the house quickly because I’m late, how much time am I actually saving compared to a normal, or even relaxed-yet-focused, pace? I might find the difference is only a few minutes. But if I get into an accident because the energy of rushing and the anxiety over being late carried into the drive, I have only become more late. If I recovered a few minutes of lateness, but arrived overwhelmed and hurried and anxious, is that a good trade? Or have we only made the situation more challenging?
“Hello, my impulse to rush, to move quickly. Hello, my pressure to get something done by an arbitrary deadline. I know that you are in there. I see you. But I ask, where did you come from? Are you sure we need to rush? Or are you simply the habit energy of my grandmother, raising eight children, trying to get everything done and keep everything in perfect order?”
It helps to look into this and know. Sometimes, I see that I’m simply rushing out of habit or childhood training. Often, I can calm my body with the recognition that this is not an emergency. I do not need to move as quickly or urgently as my body feels the need to.
I find the practice of having periodic or random bells sounding throughout the day, used as a prompt to stop and return to the body, is very helpful for transforming this energy. This practice has revealed many times when I have become swept up by an energy or feeling and not been aware of it. I might even feel the impulse not to stop, to avoid it, because I have to keep going. The bell offers an opportunity recognize and reset.