I was having a very ordinary moment washing my hands in the bathroom of my sister-in-law’s house when I noticed a small sign she had by the sink saying “Wash hands mindfully.” This little reminder got me to bring awareness to the moment, take a few deeper breaths, feel the warmth of the water on my fingers, and listen to the sounds, like a small waterfall cascade. This mini moment of presence was surprisingly delightful. In another ordinary moment, I was sitting at a wedding in a moment of pause. My neighbor pointed out to me an elderly gentleman well into his 90s who was standing in the hallway, waiting patiently and lovingly for his wife to come out of the bathroom, so he could walk with her back to their table. It was a tender moment of connection and care that could have been easily missed.

So often, we do miss these moments. Our minds are busy, active, constantly thinking and trying to solve problems—even when there is nothing to be solved (for example, those pesky worries that I can do nothing about, and yet that I ruminate about nonetheless). And when we’re not thinking about the past or future, we often go into automatic pilot mode, a kind of not really present, in-between state of being and doing.

In a fascinating article, Steve Ayan summarizes the “predictive mind” model which explains the automatic processes that we experience on a daily basis as we move through our lives. According to this theory and as explained by Ayan, our brains evolved to predict events quickly, accurately, and often unconsciously. This makes sense that some amount of automaticity is necessary to move through our day. (Imagine the effort it took at first to learn how to drive a car, or ride a bike, and the energy and focus needed. Over time, these processes no longer require conscious effort, which frees up our energy and makes things more efficient.) As part of this predictive mind model, the brain acts as a kind of pattern detection system, and when it detects something out of the ordinary or unexpected, it alerts into a more conscious state (think deer running in front of the car). But when things are operating business as usual (think predictable, ordinary, expected), it is easy—and makes sense for our survival and the conservation of the body’s energy—to slip into an unconscious, automatic pilot mode.

While this may have its necessary benefits, the downside is that we can go through our lives in this “going through the motions” fashion and miss so much.

But mindfulness offers us an opportunity to pay attention to the ordinary, the expected, even the mundane—in a new way, by bringing our awareness to these things intentionally. With mindfulness, we pay attention on purpose, with caring attention. You might think of it like this: Mindfulness allows us to switch on our paying attention pathways even when they aren’t really required. And when we do this, there is more richness, aliveness, beauty, a sense of connection and interconnection available, and even at times experiences of transcendence in our lives.

While we are wired to spend much of our days in automatic processing and on autopilot, we have this wonderful human ability to cultivate mindful awareness and to pay attention even when it isn’t necessary for us to do so. The gift of this is presence—awakening to the precious moments of our lives.

References

Steve Ayan. The Brain’s Autopilot Mechanism Steers Consciousness. Scientific American. December 19, 2018.

QOSHE - 5 Ways to Step Out of Autopilot and Into Your Life - Beth Kurland Ph.d
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5 Ways to Step Out of Autopilot and Into Your Life

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15.02.2024

I was having a very ordinary moment washing my hands in the bathroom of my sister-in-law’s house when I noticed a small sign she had by the sink saying “Wash hands mindfully.” This little reminder got me to bring awareness to the moment, take a few deeper breaths, feel the warmth of the water on my fingers, and listen to the sounds, like a small waterfall cascade. This mini moment of presence was surprisingly delightful. In another ordinary moment, I was sitting at a wedding in a moment of pause. My neighbor pointed out to me an elderly gentleman well into his 90s who was standing in the hallway, waiting patiently and lovingly for his wife to come out of the bathroom, so he could walk with her back to their table. It was a tender moment of connection and care that could have been easily missed.

So often, we do miss these moments. Our minds are busy, active, constantly thinking........

© Psychology Today


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