More “thoughts” about meditating on thought: planning, remembering, and worry

woman looking at a whiteboard covered with images - planning, remembering, and worry

More “thoughts” about meditating on thought: planning, remembering, and worry

When I suggested staying in the moment to a good friend who is quite the planner, a self-proclaimed control freak, she confided that she adores making schedules and project templates and imagining setting things in motion. “That’s lovely,” I told her. I too love to plan, especially planning travel to races in different states or to see presidential libraries with Ed.

But we do that planning right now. We sit at desks and hop on websites. We call the airlines or get on the app. We’re not there yet. That all happens later. The more present we can be, and the more aware of our thoughts and feelings while we make plans, the more compassion we have for the possibly overworked travel agent, hotel reservation specialist, or car rental agent; the more flexible we can be about the options, the better both the planning and possibly the trip, will go.

Planning is in the future. Remembering is in the past. Mindfulness is in the present. Now. Here. Be.

We can’t plan for the future in the future. And we’re not in the past when we’re thinking about the past. We’re here. We make the plans for tomorrow, today. We remember things we did or said in the past, now. It’s all happening now. There isn’t any yesterday or tomorrow. There is only now.

What about planning and remembering that happens during my movement meditation practice? Will the mindfulness police come along and give me a ticket?

Of course not.

You are practicing. If you choose an object of meditation and thoughts of the future arise, whether planning or worrying or  simply daydreaming, treat them as such: thoughts. They are not good or bad, and neither are you for thinking them. And yes, they are a distraction. Notice them, and notice that you have drifted from your object of meditation. Notice the power in having remembered. Then gently bring your mind back to whatever you have chosen to observe during that particular  practice session.

Treat memories the same way. There’s not much more lovely than a sweet memory. And, if you are doing a movement meditation, that memory is probably not your chosen object of meditation. Train the mind to let the memory go.

As a writer, I record these plans or memories, especially if they relate to my current project. I use a digital recorder app on my phone. Another friend carries index cards. If you must preserve these, do so, then return to your practice. You might have remembered it later anyway, but recording it calms the mind, letting you return to your movement meditation practice.

You know another thing that’s not in the present? Worry. You might not put worry in the same category as planning or remembering since you probably already know it’s unproductive. But worry, like planning and remembering, is simply a form of thinking. And it is not in the present. When you worry, your mind imagines a negative future. Unpleasant memories may trigger worry. A memory of something you don’t want to happen again can trigger fears of the future. That unpleasant cycle can roll around and around, especially if you have a history of trauma.

Use the same skills with worry as with planning, remembering, or any other thought pattern. Worry can be more unpleasant. It stirs more emotions, making it stickier and more difficult to release, but the process is the same.

As soon as you notice you are worrying—that your mind has moved away from your chosen object of meditation—acknowledge the thought, then gently bring your mind back and return to practice.

If worry persists, add another step. Thank your mind. Worry may arise because an ancient part of your mind, one sometimes referred to as reptilian,* believes it needs to warn and protect you. While a more developed part of the mind knows worry is counterproductive, that older part does not. So, thank it. Bow in gratitude. Then, remind it you are meditating. Ask it to trust you while you practice. Tell it you hear what it is trying to tell you. Then, again, with the utmost gentleness, but also firmness, bring your awareness back to your object of meditation.

I have included more than twenty “Your Turn” exercises in the book Make Every Move a Meditation.

* Robert K. Naumann, Janie M. Ondracek, Samuel Reiter, Mark Shein-Idelson, Maria
Antonietta Tosches, Tracy M. Yamawaki, and Gilles Laurent. “The reptilian brain,” www.
ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4406946/ (April 20, 2015).


This excerpt is from Make Every Move a Meditation by Nita Sweeney which is available now through Amazon and Mango Media.

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