If you would like to print and use the above example for yourself, it can be accessed directly at: http://slownova.com/mindfulnesslog.pdf.
Through the process of evolution and the advent of modern medicine, human beings have triumphed over most physical threats and dangers, only to become increasingly vulnerable to psychological distress within their own minds. Given that mental disorders affect about one in four adults in America every year1 and have been predicted to be the second-largest burden of ill health worldwide by 2020,2 it becomes clear that humans evolved for means of survival at the expense of individual happiness.3 The field of neuroscience has only recently begun untangling a few of the mysteries behind the human brain, and at the heart of their discoveries lies the concepts of neuroplasticity: a term applied to the brain’s malleability through the formation of new neural connections.4 In conjunction with adopting a self-compassionate attitude toward oneself, the regular practice of mindfulness has shown to alter maladaptive neural patterns by teaching individuals to be aware of, and consciously engage, alternate modes of experiential processing. Cultivating the skills of mindfulness and self-compassion can help one construct a healthier relationship to troubling thoughts and emotions, thus allowing them to be neutrally experienced as transient events currently occupying awareness, akin to other sense perceptions such as sight or sound.
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Dysfunctional at times, yes, but a family all the same. We look out for each others’ well being and protect our home with the gravest devotion. We know the freedom we possess is ours only as a result of our agreement. Our story is not the one people see in the movies, and thus far we have avoided suspicion. We wonder why it is so hard for the world to understand there isn’t a universal mold that fits us. There is such unique diversity among people with one self, doesn’t it stand to reason that those with multiple selves would show even more variance? We have heard about others, but we know our experience is nevertheless unusual. Most families have not been as lucky as we have been.
There are those who have lost all their rights.
Who suffered unspeakable ordeals.
Who either could or would not communicate with one another.
Who had no way of working their internal differences out.
Who, seeking genuine help, turned to ‘professionals.’
Who were told they were mentally disordered and affixed a label.
Who were analyzed, medicated, and locked up in institutions.
Who were poked, prodded, and torn apart.
Who were forced to separa– oops, we mean integrate.
Who were destroyed until nothing but a husk declared ‘well’ remains.
I devour the banana and instantly my fingers start to tingle, spreading through my hands, up my arms, and into the rest of my body. Bananas happen to be rich in potassium which makes them good for your heart, but the trade off is the tsunami of fatigue that can envelop your body and mind if proper precautions aren’t taken. Everything good has it’s bad sides too. Fortunately, I am wearing the safety hat and goggles I found abandoned earlier, so the banana should not dull my thoughts or impede my vision. I need to be able to think and see clearly right now.
The banana is gone and I’m alone in my head. My body feels so heavy on this stool that I look down to make sure I’m not sinking. I watched a man sink into the floor once, swallowed by the ground he was standing on, screaming and then–just as suddenly–not screaming anymore. I do not want to end up like him, so I stay aware of my surroundings at all times since you never know when the earth will open up and try to eat you.
I was in the middle of a dream, rudely awakened by the brute force of a knock, rat-a-tat-tapping on my door. I was naked, and my first impulse was to cover my body, but my fingers could not find the edges of the sheet without help–although my eyes were of no use, too busy blinking and watering, trying to adjust to the harsh sunlight. I sighed as I heard the knock again, perhaps louder and angrier than the last, and pulled a nearby sweatshirt over my head. Although I couldn’t see it, I smelled the caked-on remnants of cookie dough, remembering my binge from the night before. I had wiped my greasy palms down the front of the wrinkled pink sweatshirt, too big even for my ample frame. It was the only clothing I owned that still fit, and I had not been able to make it downstairs to do laundry for months.
As soon as my eyes were as alert as my groggy head, I squinted through a slit in the blinds in attempt to figure out the identity of my home invader. How tactless to surprise me this early in the morning! However, I realized to my chagrin that I could not discern in the sea of vehicles those that had business in the neighborhood and those that did not. “After two years of living here, I should be able to tell,” I thought to myself, but I had been too private, too hidden, for too long. As a governing rule, I never looked out my window, for any reminder of the outside world made my anxiety swell to the brink of overflow, threatening to send me into a tumult of sheer panic through a cascade of bitter tears.
Although I have been researching mindfulness for awhile now, I did not recognize how truly mindless I was most of the time until I actually started practicing formal and informal mindfulness meditation on a regular basis. As someone who is quickly overwhelmed by anxiety, I am used to monitoring my stress levels—however, my efforts thus far have been devoted to circumventing anxiety as much as possible, a nigh impossible task that has produced little in the way of results. After reading The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion and putting theory into practice by utilizing A Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction Workbook along with keeping a daily mindfulness log, I was able to discern how often my feelings overwhelmed me when I automatically processed life events through a judgmental, often self-critical, lens. My thoughts and emotions, especially those that corroborated negative expectations, actually had more power over me the more I tried to suppress. By acknowledging transient mental states and allowing them the space to safely play themselves out instead of actively resisting, I was surprised to notice how fast the results came—I not only was able to re-allocate precious mental resources to the actual confrontation of my fears, but I experienced less fear in general.
However, over the last two weeks, I also discovered how often I neglect my own well-being, to the detriment of both my physical and mental health. Within my mindfulness meditation practices, I need to cultivate awareness of dysfunctional schemas and adopt a more compassionate attitude in regards to my experience. Although I do not find it difficult to empathize with others, I have recognized the fact that I do not foster the same spirit of good-will toward myself. By integrating self-compassion meditations within my mindfulness program, I hope to become more attentive of my own needs and work on developing the same earnest desire to alleviate emotional suffering that I already possess in regards to the world at large. By helping myself first, I will be in a better position to help others, I will experience more fulfillment within my life regardless of circumstances, and I will positively effect both my mind and body.
