Vacation is a time for leisure, laughter and delight. Or so I thought.
Just over six weeks ago, I travelled for 35 days across Europe with my close friends. And what a trip it was! Beaches of invisible water, pound-to-pound measures of beer, and foods of all cultures were exploited to their maximum capacity. I gained 19 pounds… and my conscience gained 50.
But besides all the pleasures and good times I had, my final week on holiday was less than enjoyable. I had booked my flights well in advance, and without thinking it through, I would be missing a very important party. Surely I did not think much of it when I booked the flights. It’s just a party, who cares right?
Yet the party did matter to me. It was convocation – one of the largest reasons to party at my Uni – and more importantly, graduation. This may be the last time I see some of the closest friends I made over the last 3 years.
This flagrant thought conveniently arose while I was tanning on the beach in Corfu, Greece, with a gyro in my left and a Mythos (beer) in my right. Something felt off, I shouldn’t be here right now. I should be at convocation.
With tender sand on my legs and beach chairs of friends at my feet, you would think I was happy. But I was not happy, I was sad. If only I had rearranged the dates of my holiday, I would have been able to see my friends one last time.
The crystal-clear Corfu water became blue, my gyro was now sweating with grease, and the bitterness of my beer was now awfully evident (and I usually like bitter). My mind was elsewhere, and I was no longer enjoying myself. I was in a prison lathered with luxurious dining, exceptional comfort, and freedom.
It turns out that peace of mind is a prerequisite for travel.
Mindfulness
What is mindfulness? Certainly a bible of definitions exists on the topic, but I like to define it as observing the immediate moment. Listening to the sound of the wind, focusing on the rhythm of your breath, or stubbing your toe against the corner of the chair and bellowing profanities – the present moment is so endearing.
As a species we have evolved into intellectual mind-wanderers. While daydreaming may provide an effective ploy to carry out fantasies, often we are only contemplating the mundane. ‘Did I take out the trash?’ ‘When should I grab a coffee?’ ‘I wonder if dogs speak in different accents.’
Mind wandering, unfortunately, is also the most effective tool for cultivating anxiety. For the avid over-thinker, any thought of emotional impact will compound exponentially. It can be as small as missing the bus: ‘Oh no, I am going to be late to see my friend’ turns into ‘Oh no, he or she will resent me for who I am’. Mindfulness is the realization that life should not be taken so seriously. Yes, I know, much easier said than done. But one thing is for sure: repressed anxiety will find a way to manifest.
An encouraging motive is to understand that mindfulness is not the total elimination of negative thoughts; it is the conscious process of accepting them. Mind wandering is natural, even for the Tibetan monk who meditates 8 hours a day. Believe me, I am to overthinking what Bobby Flay is to grilled basil-rubbed swordfish. Thinking is good if you are using the right formula.
I have found, more often than not, that anxiety gives me the energy I need to make a change in my life. Usually when I get anxious, it is my monkey mind pointing me in the direction of success – ‘go talk to that girl’ or ‘call the stupid credit card company’. Mindfulness incorporates a deeper sense of perspective.
O.K., back to my holiday. I was eating gyros and drinking beer all week (and absolutely loving it). It was only when I let negative energy (missing the party) fester into my awareness that I began to disdain them. In fact I went out of my way to look for negatives – too many rocks on the beach, too many sights to go and see, etc. The law of attraction infers ‘like attracts like’. Well, I can assure you that the quality of my headspace actually infected the quality of my beer. Worst bargain ever.
And then I saw a child on the side of the road, playing his accordion and begging for money. Wow. I realized how rich I was. Not just in money, but in opportunity and support. I took my friends, my family, food, clothes, shelter and everything else for granted. Man I was complaining about missing a party… I can’t even begin to imagine the life of this little boy. Gratitude is the most important component to mindfulness – it is the ultimate method of acceptance.
This first-world example of mindfulness taught me an invaluable lesson on the importance of perspective. It did not matter the beauty of the Adriatic Sea, the good friends I was with, or the other mounds of good fortune I was surrounded by – my environment is only as pleasant as my mind makes it out to be.