Mindfulness Is Not About Being Calm
I recently began teaching a mindfulness curriculum to a group of middle school students in a Milwaukee Public School. Before I even began teaching, one of the middle school teachers said to me, “Mindfulness doesn’t work.”
Hmmm…..I thought. Mindfulness is about intentionally being present in the present moment in a non-judgmental way. To say that mindfulness doesn’t work is like saying, “The present moment doesn’t work.” The statement, “The present moment doesn’t work,” doesn’t make any sense because the present moment isn’t supposed to “do” anything. The present moment is simply the present moment.
I shared this with my students and inquired about what it is that they thought that mindfulness was supposed to “do.” They shared with me that they had been told that mindfulness was supposed to make them calm, and they thought that using mindfulness was not going to “work” to make them calm.
“Mindfulness is not about being calm,” I shared with my students. “Mindfulness is about being present.” I then shared with my students a story about how I had practiced mindfulness just before teaching. I had felt nervous that morning because I had never taught this particular group of students, and instead of trying to make my anxiety “go away” (which would likely have compounded my anxiety), I turned toward it. I said to myself, “I’m feeling anxious,” and I reminded myself that it is common to feel anxious before teaching a new group of students. I brought my attention inside my body and noticed how it felt hot and tight in my neck and shoulders, and there was a buzzy sort of feeling that radiated through my entire body. I intentionally brought my attention into the soles of my feet to help myself feel grounded, and I noticed my breathing. Because I noticed that my body and my breath were indicative of a “fight or flight” response, I also chose to intentionally slow down my breathing. Regulating the breath is not a mindfulness strategy, but my mindfulness practice of observing the anxiety response in my body helped me to make the skillful choice of intentionally slowing down my breath.
The idea that mindfulness is about being calm is one that I often hear propagated by well-meaning parents, teachers in schools, and even by mindfulness instructors themselves. I think that the reason that people market mindfulness as a “strategy” to stay calm is because calm is often a by-product of practicing mindfulness. Research is clear that the long-term effects of practicing mindfulness include the ability to regulate and maintain a sense of evenness or calm in the face of stressful circumstances and emotions. However, if we practice mindfulness as a strategy to make a difficult emotion or thought go away, we may end up feeling more anxious because resisting an experience often causes a secondary wave of anxiety. If we instead embrace difficult emotions with a compassionate and mindful awareness, even if the difficult feelings temporarily increase, our long-term trajectory is toward equanimity–a sense of evenness amidst the ups and downs of life.
Even though practicing mindfulness is not about producing a state of calm in the moment, practicing mindfulness over time can help us to stay present and grounded amidst the continual ups and downs of this human experience. This evenness in the face of difficult experiences in turn sets the stage for us to make skillful choices that can help us to more fully enjoy this journey of life.
My older daughter Maya was born sensitive, curious, and creative. As Maya grew, I learned that all of her five senses were extra sensitive. For her sounds were louder, smells and tastes more acute, she had a strong draw to everything tactile, and she saw “light shows” that made artificial lighting both intriguing and exhausting. Maya’s overstimulated nervous system made it difficult for her to regulate her emotions, and full out meltdowns were a common occurrence. When Maya was given free time, her curiosity and creativity allowed her to engage herself in a task for hours. At the same time, transitions and rote tasks were incredibly challenging for her because they pulled her away from the mesmerizing present moment. 
When Maya became preschool age, I felt challenged as to how to both support her curiosity and creativity as well as facilitate her acquisition of simple life skills and lead her to accept redirection. Maya’s intense wonder and curiosity made walking from her preschool to the car parked in front of the building a half-hour endeavor (with periodic meltdowns), and brushing her teeth a task that required many, many redirections. 
To have my daughter begin to lose her sense of self-worth was my worst nightmare, and I began to see a helping professional in the hopes that I could learn to be more patient and less reactive to Maya’s distractibility and frequent tantrums. The professional who I worked with suggested that I needed more self-compassion. She suggested that I was “too hard on myself.” Hmmmm……
As I learned how to walk myself through the voice of shame into the sunlight of compassion, I was increasingly able to walk Maya through the voice of shame into the sunlight of compassion. As I learned how to embrace my own imperfections, I became able to help Maya to embrace her imperfections. As I grew in self-love and self-appreciation, I helped Maya to grow self-love and self-appreciation. And my daughter and I both began to thrive.
A few weeks ago I was contemplating schooling options for my daughters for next year. Even though my daughters currently attend a wonderful, progressive school that is a block and a half from the home where we are living, every so often I hear a little voice that tells me that I should enroll my children in a Montessori School. Lately, I have heard so many wonderful things about Montessori schools, that I decided to ask my older daughter, Maya, if she would even be interested in attending a Montessori school.
I asked Maya to name the feelings that she had in relation to the possiblity of potentially changing schools and moving. Together we named and created clay characters for the “amygdala” (Maya’s idea–colloquially known as STRESS), excitement, balance, the “leaper,” sadness, fear, denial and joy/love. 
Ultimately, what is important is not the decisions that our family makes-to change schools or not, to move or stay put. What is important is that I am listening to the many voices with openness and curiosity and listening still further for the steadiness beneath them all. What is important is that I am asking the questions, “What do I need?” and “What do my children need?” and listening carefully to the answers to these questions.
s found the hidden room where the man is controlling the images projected onto the screen, and Toto is exposing the man behind the curtain to Dorothy. “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain….” the man behind the curtain desperately implores. To me, this image of the projection screen and the man behind the curtain is a metaphor for what we all can sometimes do with ourselves as we project the image that we want others to see into the world.
