Meditation in and of itself has been practiced for hundreds of years. Recently, though, it has gained popularity and become sort of a fad; 'mindfulness' is gaining traction in popular culture alongside yoga, açaí bowls, and SoulCycle. Good or bad it may be, the bottom line is that more people are aware of or practice some rendition of conscious mindfulness.

To practice mindfulness is to practice awareness - to practice being present and collected in the moment. It’s the practice of controlling how we react. Through becoming more mindful and living in the present, we can be happier, healthier, and more productive. Theoretically. Here's my one-minute pitch to introduce mindfulness to communities on a grassroots level:

Let’s dissect that pitch. Ditch the Mindful Nest meditation bus and focus on the basic idea of practicing mindfulness. I’m not talking ‘become a monk’ meditation - unless that’s what you want, then by all means, go for it - but rather, I’m suggesting that we all accept a challenge: can we take ten minutes out of every day? Can we drop everything for a minuscule sip of air in the scheme of our life’s breath? If, in theory, we were to devote ten minutes of each day to a time of stillness, of breathing, of mindfulness, what could happen?

I experimented with this dare over the summer. I challenged myself to ten minutes a day of meditation. Simple, right? Well, not at first. Amazed at the seemingly hyperactive nature of my brain, I would sit every morning on a cushion trying to harness my thoughts. Like being rudely shoved into a pool of cold water, I became aware of my bubbling annoyance. It gurgled and laughed and attached itself to anything it could get its spindly fingers on - just as I tried to sit still and clear my mind, I found it increasingly harder to relax. The whole ‘sit down and be calm’ mantra I would recite was proving counterintuitive, and I became annoyed with myself for getting annoyed with everything else. It was cyclical. It was frustrating. And frankly, my morning coffees did more to calm me than these initial meditation sessions.

My two dogs were often the first source of my annoyance. They’d lay on the floor near me, gently lapping at their paws, and I’d bristle and shiver at the horrid sounds of their tongues lashing in and out of their mouths. Eyes closed, I’d remind myself to take deep breaths. It’s like a cloud in the wind, I’d think, this annoyance and these thoughts will pass. Breathe through it. Simmer down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Repeat... But the annoyance was far from over. I’d then confront the brutality of my judgement; these poor furry creatures laying at my feet could never understand my irritation with their tongues, much less control these ridiculously natural grooming rituals. Why was I so judgmental? I’d chastise myself, indignant because of my own judgement.

These morning meditation rituals I confronted with dubiousness. I saw no point in festering in annoyed darkness for ten uninterrupted minutes every day. Feeling strangely volatile, I doubted the efficacy of the whole mindfulness deal, and I doubted that it could actually help me to be “happier, healthier, and more productive” as I previously claimed.

It was a forced routine initially, and I struggled through the sessions, but I slowly started to become accustomed to the stillness. I’d go about my quotidian rituals after my designated meditation time. A change occurred. Because of my awareness of my annoyance during the meditation sessions, I grew more alert of my emotions throughout the rest of the day. When previously I would’ve reacted negatively and without question to things like being stuck in a traffic jam or accidentally breaking a glass, I started to notice a growing awareness of my backlash to things that affected me - big or small. With this awareness came consciousness. I no longer experienced annoyance without consciously acknowledging it. This consciousness then led to questioning: was my annoyance constituted? Was it necessary? Would it benefit me? In the beginning, the answers were all a fiery ‘YES, of course!’. Realizing my denial, though, I finally reversed my responses to the questions. Maybe my annoyance was constituted, I thought, but it probably wasn’t necessary, and it definitely wouldn’t benefit me.

I continued my ten minute meditative rituals, and was presented with an unexpected occurrence. Instead of ending these periods of mindfulness with the ten minute alarm set on my phone, I felt the awareness fostered in the stillness as it transferred to my every waking hour. I realized I had trained myself to simply think more about why I made the choices I did - to be more mindful of my practice of living.

I’m not close to mastering meditation, mindfulness, or anything else for that matter. I’m a student to it all with much to learn. I do, though, feel an ounce wiser after going through my summer meditation challenge. I didn’t gain any profound knowledge on the meaning of life after closing my eyes and focusing on breathing for ten minutes each day, and I definitely can’t promise that you’ll reach enlightenment if you try the challenge yourself, but I know now that through this introspective quiet time, I was able to reach a place of greater mindfulness.
With pride, I can say I successfully completed my dare. Sure, I skipped a few days, but now, as summer break reaches its dusk, I have reached a greater level of self awareness. So, did the meditation itself make me happier, healthier, and more productive? Maybe not directly, but the awareness I gained through meditation has allowed for me to access a happier, healthier, and more productive self through conscious and mindful action. I’m continuing my meditation practice now - not to complete a dare, but because I’ve realized the benefit. It feels great. Now, if you haven’t experimented with mindfulness or meditation, I challenge you to do so. Do you have a mere ten minutes to dedicate to stillness?