Skip to main content

A question to which I probably already know (part of) the answer

I have been delighted by the recent buzz of interest in the mindfulness program that I will begin teaching this weekend.  I am looking forward to introducing a full group to mindfulness and to Mindfulness Based Cognitive Therapy.  For details of future courses, please visit my website.
  
The pre-course meetings I arrange with individuals before they embark upon a mindfulness program are important.  Wherever possible I seek to meet everyone before Session 1.  If we can't meet face to face, then a phone call is scheduled.  

These meetings give participants the opportunity to meet me, and put a face to a name - most often people will approach me by email, and we exchange information (me about the course, them about themselves) - meeting in the flesh can be really helpful, making easier to walk into the room to join a group for the first time.

One of the things I spend some time considering with anyone who approaches me wanting to learn mindfulness, is what it is that has brought them here.  We are all of us on a journey. And we come to mindfulness at different times.  Mostly, I think, at precisely the right time. One of the things I often find myself saying to those who express interest in the courses I teach is that it's not my intention to 'sell' the program.  My aim is to give people information about what the program comprises, and to think with them about how it might be useful to them.  

For that's why I do what I do:  I want to make mindfulness skills accessible.  I want others to benefit from that which I've found invaluable.  It's not for me to tell anyone that mindfulness is what they need.  Mindfulness is not a cure.  It's not a fix.  It's not a solution.  But it does work.  Theory alone is worthless, but the program, if digested and absorbed fully can, and does, change people's lives.  


So, in asking someone why it is that they are interested in mindfulness, I am confident I know part of the answer ahead of time.  The majority of people who approach me have tried other things.  Plenty of people have tried lots of things.  Mindfulness is, if you like, the last chance saloon.  But it's not all as glib as it sounds.  The point is, people have tried to cure their ills in the usual fashion - and found that their usual toolbox is ill-equipped to deal with some of the things that are apt to keep us awake at night.

The hustle bustle of the overactive mind, busy doing doing doing until it can do no more.  I meet people on the brink of burnout.  They know it, and I know it.  They're sick and tired of feeling sick and tired.  And this is the golden moment.  They are ready and willing to try something different.  Anything.  (As long as it works).  So - after the all-important disclaimers - that this won't (by itself) change your life, or your personality, or mend your relationships... people arrive at the decision to commit to a course.

And the next chapter has already begun...  


Refuge to a man is the mind, refuge to the mind is mindfulness - Buddha

  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else.  The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly.  I liked her instantly.    Mum was nervous.  I think I was a little, too.  It's been a difficult year.   "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..."   No problems there.  CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment.  The standardised  measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation.    "Table.  Apple.  Penny."   Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on.  Again, Mum was able to recall each.      I am reminded that the...

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal.  I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking.  I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak.  I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic.  My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well.  This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well.  My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author.  Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory.  I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim.  Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't....  occur to me during the session?' Earlier this we...

Joan Miro: Emotional Art

"Painting and poetry are like love; an exchange of blood, a passionate embrace, without restraint, without defence.  The picture is born of an overflow of emotions and feelings." Miro, The Farm 'La Masia' (1921-22) I learnt a great deal about Miro on a recent visit to the Tate.  I learnt a great deal about a lot more too. Miro wanted to discover the sources of human feeling.  He described his method of creating poetry by way of painting, using a vocabulary of signs and symbols, metaphors and dream images to express definite themes he believed to be fundamental to human existence.  The exhibition displays his sense of humor and lively wit.  His chief concern was a social one; he wanted to get close to the great masses of humanity, and he was convinced that art can only truly appeal when it resonates with roots of lived experience.  "Wherever you are, you find the sun, a blade of grass, the spirals of the dragonfly.  Courage cons...