Breathe In, Breathe Out
Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out…
…A simple mantra chanted by so many and one that I chant myself as I walk into one of my first therapy sessions as a student therapist. I am a clinical psychology doctoral student, and after a year in a classroom, learning about the presentations of clinical disorders such as anxiety and depression and various evidenced therapeutic interventions, it is time for me to apply what I have learned. Yet, all I can think about when I am in the room with the patient is, “What will I say next? How will I respond if they say something I don’t expect? Do I sound like I know what I’m talking about?” Essentially, my mind is everywhere but in the present moment.
Since that first therapy session I conducted as a graduate student, I have engaged in countless mindfulness exercises as a facilitator, a supervisee, and a peer. Yet, I can confidently say that remaining in the present moment has not gotten any easier for me. I empathize with my patients who can easily engage in a mindfulness exercise during a calm, structured session and simultaneously cannot seem to put this skill to use when the situation warrants it. But despite learning about the importance of mindfulness and seeing it spark up like the new up-and-coming fad through workplace seminars, sponsored activities, screensaver infographics, apps, and podcasts, I felt like that was the last activity for which I could set aside time on certain days.
Continuing to remain in the “present moment” has become increasingly difficult with today’s technology, the constant competition to juggle as many responsibilities as possible while appearing effortless, and the pressure to make a meaningful impact in society, all compounded by situations outside our control. Therefore, it is understandable why we might struggle to put this skill to practice.
“Doing whatever it takes,” “Climbing to the top of the ladder,” and “No pain, no gain” are a few of the very many idioms used to describe the ambition many individuals foster to earn their reputation. Sacrificing your comforts, adjusting to unexpected outcomes, and prioritizing the sole goal of success is inherently incongruent with taking a pause and dedicating time to relax or unwind. Especially during the first few years of graduate school, I had the momentum of a boulder rolling down an increasingly steep hill that I wouldn’t dare think of stopping. I always planned a year ahead, thinking about the next steps even before I grew accustomed to my current position.
As a psychology student, I’ve learned that between having a busy lifestyle, a lack of routine in usage, and strong negative emotions and perceptions towards mindfulness, we struggle to translate “going with the flow,” into our daily schema. However, I’ve also learned that while these difficulties are ever present in our lives, we can either let the hindrances define our decisions or choose to take a course of action that anchors our minds to our surroundings.
A year into my clinical training, an individual struggling to make mindfulness their daily practice asked me if I had ever experienced similar sentiments. My honest response of never having attempted to implement mindfulness in my life was humbling. Up until that point, I ignorantly assumed the future and worry-oriented way I lived my life was adaptive. However, when I zoomed out of my microscopic perspective and examined the various ways in which my anxiety impacted my life, I was slightly embarrassed to realize I hadn’t seen any issues beforehand.
With the overwhelming pressure of graduate school, I myself began experiencing heightened feelings of anxiety- which increasingly grew difficult to ameliorate independently. I, like many of my patients, sought guidance from a counselor who, lo and behold, encouraged me to engage in a nightly routine of mindfulness-based exercises. One of these exercises involved grounding myself to an anchor which I consistently associated with calmness and stability. As I searched my room looking for a stabilizing object upon which I could ground my emotions and thoughts, I came across a book on my nightstand table. The book was an autobiography of my guru, Mahant Swami Maharaj. Inside the front cover was a picture of my three gurus, Yogiji Maharaj, Pramukh Swami Maharaj, and Mahant Swami Maharaj, standing side by side. I studied the picture and immediately thought of the manifestation of tolerance, resilience, and calmness all three of them embody. As I focused on steadying my breath, I allowed myself to simply observe this photograph and notice every small detail. Studying Yogiji Maharaj’s warm smile, Pramukh Swami Maharaj’s calm expression, and Mahant Swami Maharaj’s kind eyes, slowly brought my heart rate down to a normal beat. My mind was still for the first time in a long time, which felt like a breath of fresh air.
I wish I could say that each subsequent choice to practice mindfulness over letting my thoughts dictate my behavior grew easier, but my growth towards remaining present-focused has not been linear. Breaking the habit of thinking two steps ahead and perseverating on past decisions has been challenging, especially since I have gotten so far in life while simultaneously adopting this approach. But I am not naïve to notice the contrast in my behaviors and attitudes when adopting a mindful approach versus defaulting to my usual thought process. And what I have found in this journey is that taking a pause, especially when it feels like I absolutely cannot stop, is when mindfulness helps me the most. For example, on days when my caseload is full, the extra two minutes I take to lead myself through diaphragmatic breathing and engage my five senses with my environment help reorient my focus, allowing me to attend to a task fully. On the weekends, when I pay my respects to the murtis of my gurus at the mandir, I will often use the anchoring technique I was once taught and allow myself to simply be as I observe every detail of their murtis. My breath returns to a steady state as all five of my sense become engaged with the ever-lasting presence of my gurus. Though their murti remains unchanged, I find myself continuously refreshed on a weekly basis, reminding myself of their murti when attempting to bring myself to a peaceful state during a hectic work day.
Life has become a little easier as I have trained myself to think about what I am doing rather than what I need to do in an hour or what I did yesterday. At least now, when my patients ask how I approach mindfulness, I can honestly say that, like them, I am also on a journey to mastering this skill. Some days it is easy, while it feels nearly impossible on others. But, overall, I have learned to accept that those ebbs and flows are simply a part of the human experience.
Dhira Patel, Detroit, Michigan
Neuropsychology Postdoctoral Fellow
