I was just about to pour myself a cup of tea when I noticed how the glaze on the inside of the cup had  begun to form lines, like many tributaries flowing out from one river. Like my many laughter lines. It’s far from broken, but I was reminded of the beautiful Japanese art of ‘kintsugi’, which is ‘to repair with gold’. 

The philosophy behind this art is that by repairing a broken cup or vase with gold (and tree sap) as the glue, the repaired vessel becomes even more precious than the original. This practice is related to the Japanese philosophy of ‘wabi-sabi’, which finds beauty in the imperfect, as well as ‘mushin’, the acceptance of change. 

Which in turn reminded me of a beautiful quote in The Other Hand by Chris Cleave, about scars. Here it is in full: 

“On the girl’s brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”

Which in turn reminded me, as ever, of Rumi: 

I said: what about my eyes?

He said: Keep them on the road. 

I said: What about my passion?

He said: Keep it burning.

I said: What about my heart? 

He said: Tell me what you hold inside it?

I said: Pain and sorrow.

He said: Stay with it. The wound is the place where the Light enters you.

In today’s world, we might feel that compared to others we have it lucky and so shouldn’t pay much heed to our own wounds; our losses, disappointments or our regrets. But it’s when we do just this – when we open our hearts to our pain and sorrow – that the lotus begins to grow from the mud. And then the sunshine of joy brings us into bloom. And we don’t just do this for ourselves, but for each other and for the collective. It’s taken me half a century to realise, but we really get growing when we bring compassionate enquiry to what is most challenging for us. 

Like all inner work, it’s a fine line between addressing what causes us pain and becoming comfortable with suffering. We say we want to ‘let it go’… while we carry on holding on. Someone once suggested to me that we be honest with ourselves about why we hold onto our pain and consider what reassurances we need to let go (journaling is so helpful for this exploration). 

But if you’re willing to feel lost, then you’re on your way to finding yourself. 

The meeting of two eternities, the past and the future… is precisely the present moment.

HENRY DAVID THOREAU

I was thinking the other day how compressed time can feel in today’s world. Our default setting will often be ‘busy’ and it’s easy to feel like there just aren’t enough hours in the day. 

According to research, most of us regularly feel ‘time pressured’. And this is despite the fact that the average working week has actually reduced over the past decades. 

Because how we perceive time is affected by so many factors. For example, ‘inner conflict’ has a contracting effect on time. We don’t really want to do something but we feel we should. We have a pile of tasks at work, but we don’t feel ‘on the same page’ with our boss. 

When we feel a loss of control then our perception of time also tends to contract. When trains are delayed or the traffic is at a snail’s pace and we are late for an appointment. 

When our days feel so full of things we have to do, there isn’t room for the things that just bring us joy or relaxation. Even when we know that joy and relaxation are incredibly good for us, they easily fall to the bottom of our ‘to do’ list.   

So it might be helpful to know there are lots of practices that have a way of expanding time, and just a couple of minutes can feel like a wonderful time out. 

All of these practices share something in common – they bring our attention to the present moment – because in a world full of distractions, it is a blessed relief to come back to our centre, our still point, our body & breath. 

And the more we practice being present, we tend to find it easier to concentrate on tasks, to have clarity about our goals and feel just a little bit more of a sense of ease and a broader sense of perspective. 

There’s science to help back this up – researchers at the University of Kent studied the effects of 10 minutes of mindfulness meditation on participants and discovered that their perception of time expanded after meditating.

We can begin to slow down the vicious circle: 

‘not enough time -> stress -> less focus -> things don’t get done -> not enough time ->’ 

and begin a more virtuous one:

‘presence -> time expands -> de-stress -> clarity -> focus -> flow -> enjoy getting things done -> presence ->’ 

Here are just 5 ways to practise expanding time…

1. First thing in the morning, as you are just waking, take a minute to focus on something in your room. It could be a vase or a chair, ideally a very simple object. When your mind wanders, gently bring your attention back to the object. You might start managing just a few seconds before your thoughts go astray; practise this each morning and you’ll notice your ability to concentrate expands over time. This kinds of focussed energy means that we are fully present – rather than here, there and everywhere. And this ability to concentrate is also incredibly helpful for when we are engaged in deep work, when we are listening to someone or problem-solving.
2. I recently took part in a Flow Journaling workshop with our author Henny Flynn, and we all journaled towards the end of the workshop for approximately 7 minutes. My goodness, I don’t write very quickly but I was still surprised by what I released in those few minutes onto the page. There are lots of ways in which journaling can help create space for our thoughts to untangle; a couple of minutes of daily gratitude journaling reminds us what matters in our lives when we have become overwhelmed with tasks, we can channel our inner wisdom and intuition to bring clarity, to offer ourself a few kind words as we would a dear friend, or we can simply turn over our worries to the page, setting them down.  
3. Listen – Occasionally I will take a minute or two while on a walk to focus entirely on the sounds around me. Often I will find myself concentrating on a sound that I wouldn’t usually notice, such as the wind in the trees or the sound of my footsteps. When we engage in a sense that we tend to notice less frequently, so using touch or taste will have the same effect, we are more embodied – right here, right now.
4. Notice the breath – Everything starts with the breath, and yet we easily take it for granted. In a fast-paced world, we can lose touch with the natural rhythm of our breath and take short, shallow breaths that constrict our body and mind (and sense of time). Just three deep, slow breaths will bring you into a state of presence and begin to regulate your nervous system. It is the simplest and most profound of tonics. Bring your attention to the inhale and the exhale. Breathe into every distant corner of your body, letting go of any tension as you breathe out. Breathe in clarity and spaciousness to your mind, breathing out cluttered thoughts that no longer serve you well. Indulge in a good sigh or a yawn to release stagnant energy. 
5. Pause – As author Danielle North often says, in a world that’s speeding up, sometimes we need to slow down… consciously. We can practise the art of being, not doing. Sit on a bench. Stare out of the window. Light a candle and watch the flame, just for a minute. Wander. WONDER.

‘The overview effect is a cognitive shift reported by some astronauts while viewing the Earth from space. Researchers have characterized the effect as “a state of awe with self-transcendent qualities, precipitated by a particularly striking visual stimulus”. The most prominent common aspects of personally experiencing the Earth from space are appreciation and perception of beauty, unexpected and even overwhelming emotion, and an increased sense of connection to other people and the Earth as a whole. The effect can cause changes in the observer’s self concept and value system, and can be transformative.’ [Source: Wikipedia]

I was recently listening to a radio podcast series on the ethics of space exploration, and I was intrigued by the concept of the ‘overview effect’. How some astronauts experienced a distinct shift in consciousness when viewing the Earth from such a great distance – the kind of awakening that many spiritual traditions and practices have at their heart, and which many of us hope to have a glimpse of in our lives. 

Although only a tiny number of people will get to see Earth from Space, at least in our generation, I found myself thinking about the ways in which we can all access this kind of perspective – and how helpful that can be. 

Years ago, Danielle North, author of our workbook & journal, On Purpose, offered a small but powerful practice to my colleagues and I for when you work inside and don’t get to look out of a window. Danielle suggested once or twice a day to find the most expansive view possible and take a few moments to take it in. This simple practice helps us to feel more open, gives us a sense of space and connection to our ‘bigger picture’. We might not experience a shift in consciousness like that of the astronauts but it can greatly improve our experience of the everyday. 

If we’re talking awe and wonder, and deepening our appreciation of beauty, then all we need do is look to nature. You know that moment when a view takes your breath away – I believe that’s the overview effect. It’s the moment we feel at the same time infinitesimally small and also a part of something truly incredible. 

I mean. We get to hang out here, on the most ridiculously beautiful planet in the Universe! 

We might not be able to look at Earth from Space, but how wonderful it is to look up at a starry night sky, or at incredible cloud formations, at a rainbow, a fiery orange sunset, a pink dawn, the man on the moon.

What are you in awe of? For me, it’s birds (and trees, and the sea, and…) First of all, they can fly. They can fly a long way, across continents. They can sing, and some of them are pretty good dancers, too. And each dusk, they perform the magic trick of disappearing to another realm – well, that’s how I see it. They fly into the tree and, poof, they’re gone until the dawn. 

And then, there’s the overview effect that comes from going inwards into Space through stillness and meditation. Into the infinite space between our cells, within each breath…

There are the moments we are so moved by a creation of art, we have to sit and just be with it for a while. 

Or when we stand in the middle of an ancient long barrow, or stone circle, and we feel something deep within us, a connection. When we walk an old, worn path and imagine all the people who have walked the path before us. 

Awe and wonder aren’t just nice things – they aren’t just good for our stress levels and our sense of wellbeing. 

Awe and wonder shift our consciousness. 

Awe and wonder wake us into presence, and remind us that we don’t have all the answers (which is so much more interesting than thinking we do). But that we are here, we are a part of all this.

I have a small garden with unusually high hedges and a wall on one side.

You might think it would feel a bit cramped. But it doesn’t at all.

Because every day, and most nights, my little garden encourages me to look up.

What’s going on with the great beech tree next door?

Are there any kites (of the bird variety) flying overhead?

Where is the moon?

What shall I write about in my newsletter today?

Yesterday, while walking the dog, my habit for looking up at trees was rewarded with the sight of two nuthatches and then, quite astonishingly, I was treated to a good 30 seconds of watching a barn owl fly through the woods.

It’s all a great mystery… Look up at the sky and you’ll see how everything changes.

ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY

This got me thinking about looking up and how in today’s world we are so often encouraged to look down at our screens instead.

It turns out that looking up isn’t just a ‘nice idea’, but it activates parts of our brain such as abstract thinking, openness and curiosity, which make us more empathetic and improves our problem solving skills. It even improves our attention span. When I was at school, being labeled a ‘daydreamer’ was not a compliment, and yet most breakthrough ideas come in those ‘aha’ moments when we allow our minds to roam free.

What are train journeys for, if not for some quality time spent staring out of the window?

Looking up often rewards us with moments of awe, which is also a tonic for the mind, body and soul. In those moments we feel connected, tuned in, humble and inspired. We take a deep, cleansing breath and our mind literally expands.

Look up and we see what’s possible.

I could never stay long enough on the shore; the tang of untainted, fresh, and free sea air was like a cool, quieting thought.

Helen Keller

If you are lucky enough to be spending some time by the sea this summer, you can likely feel the benefits instinctively – we just know there’s just something good about the salty air, and I particularly enjoy the deep sleep I usually have after a day by the sea. 

It was a Japanese professor who taught me that the human body has not yet evolved to actually feel very comfortable in urban settings – we are designed to be in nature and not just because it’s pretty but because our body is fuelled and healed by nature. It’s no coincidence that the colours green and blue are stress relieving for us, that we are fascinated by the patterns on sea shells, or that we can’t help flocking to the seaside on bank holidays. Who says it first in your family… “I can see the sea!”

There are many theories why being in nature are restorative for us. The American biologist Edward O Wilson popularised the term ‘biophilia’ in the 1980s, which describes how we are genetically programmed to respond to nature and that we are emotionally connected to all living organisms, which is why when the Earth suffers, our own mental wellbeing suffers. We thrive when the nature around us is thriving. 

There is also the theory that is now more widely known – that nature helps to regulate our nervous systems. Many aspects of modern life trigger our stress response, which was designed to only be needed in emergency situations. Too much of this over time can impact our health, particularly our mood and sleep. Nature helps to bring us out of this stressed state and into a balanced state, where we are able to ‘rest and digest’. 

I love the ART theory – Attention Restoration Theory – by Rachel and Stephen Kaplan. It proposes that nature is a balm for our struggles with concentration. When our mind is exhausted, apparently there is nothing better than to just be in a natural environment that we enjoy and where we feel away from it all; and the gentle breaking of waves on the shore is an added bonus because it offers a sound, sight and rhythm that requires no effort to be attentive to. 

We breathe in the salty air more deeply and slowly. 

We release our tension to the elements, carried away on the ocean breeze. 

We begin to settle, take it easy, and let thoughts dissolve in the breaking waves.

We watch diamonds of sunlight dance across the surface.

We wonder what beauty is beneath.  

We see the world in a grain of sand. 

We listen.

You are not a drop in the ocean; you are the entire ocean in a drop.

rumi

_{Photo by Daniel Cabanas on Unsplash}