Tag Archives: mindfulness

Nudged: Take a Sacred Pause x2/day

The Backstory: I wish I could remember which friend introduced me to the concept of “Sacred Pause,” because it’s brilliant. This is my way of taking small steps toward more mindfulness. I suck at meditation, and I’m tired of trying to force myself to do it. I’m not great about scheduling Me Time either. It’s also not the same as my regular prayer time, which is sacred in its own way. All I have to do–twice each day this week–is Stop. Take a deep breath. Close my eyes. Maybe stretch. That’s it.

To keep myself on track, I have written this on my daily schedule so I can check off each one.

What Happened: This Nudge was so timely and perfect for me. Life has handed me quite a lot, and I have had a couple of legit meltdowns. “Overwhelmed” doesn’t feel adequate.

So this week, whenever I started to feel panicked, stressed, distracted, pulled in every direction (like the afternoon when I was on the phone with the vet, Thor was texting me, our lovely housekeeper had a question, a client sent a red-flag email, AND the puppy signaled it was time to go pee again), I took a break and took a breath. Okay, I took the puppy out first, then I took a break, but most times when the inner call came, I just stopped in my tracks, closed my eyes, and paused.

One afternoon the pause expanded into a deep, dreamless nap (much needed). On two occasions my pause took the form of sipping a cuppa good tea while looking at something other than my computer screen. One morning, when everything was not going to plan, I listened to what I really needed and took myself and the puppy to the beach for an extended pause.

As of this morning, I feel like I am better at listening to myself and responding to what I really need in the moment. In just a few days I moved past the need for boxes to check off and I’m just doing this.

The Ah-Hahs: Mindfulness. Listening to my self, my needs. In the moment. When I think about how I want to master this in my life, it seems like a Big Project. And yet, what I discovered this week is that I could achieve it with a very small, simple, doable Nudge.

Nudged: Teach Louie (and me) a new trick

Backstory: I’ve been caught up lately in trying to do all the Nudges “right”, in staying vigilant in my search for “meaning” and “direction”. What’s I’ve forgotten is this is also supposed to be “fun.”

I don’t allow much time in my life for fun. There’s plenty of must dos and shoulds, from client projects to household tasks to the stuff that seems to barely keep my head above water most days. So this week’s Nudge, it’s purely fun.

This Nudge requires the assistance of a willing partner. Here I am with mine, my sweet Louie.

What Happened: Louie is a five-year-old cattle dog–corgi mix, and he’s super smart. Several years ago, he and my husband attended weekly agility course training, where they ran around a gym as Louie navigated obstacles such as crawling through long tubes, weaving through poles, and leaping over jumps. Both of my guys were sidelined with injuries, and I’m sorry to say we’ve fallen into a rut, becoming complacent with the fact that Louie obeys (about 90% of the time) the basic commands—come, sit, stay; lie down, show me your belly.

So this Nudge shook us out of that rut, and the trick I chose to teach him was something I thought would be doable in the time period and something that would be fun to show off to visitors: a fist bump.

Twice each day, Louie and I had our training sessions. With patience and a handful of treats, I worked on getting us both focused, and we practiced until I felt we could perform in front of an audience. My husband was aware of this week’s Nudge, but I told him the actual trick was a surprise, something we’d demonstrate for him at the end of the week.

Here we are, early this morning:

The Ah-Ha: I take my responsibilities as Louie’s dog-mama pretty seriously, but will admit to being a bit lazy the last couple of years. Not only was training him to do a new trick good mental stimulation for him, it forced me to take a complete break from my daily routine.

I forget how utterly entertaining he is, and how eager he is to please. I was strict about rewarding him with treats, so when he didn’t get it right, we started over. But I could see the wheels turning as he tried to figure it out. And when all else failed, he ran through his repertoire of solid tricks, expertly performing sit–shake–lie down–roll over in quick succession, as if one of those would suffice. It made me laugh out loud. But then, the pure joy of seeing the moment it clicked for him, when he made the connection between “Bump!” and tapping his paw on my fist and getting a treat. I swear he beamed with pride.

This exercise took only a few minutes out of my day, but as I headed back to my desk, I was aware that during that time I hadn’t once thought about deadlines, bills, broken fences, or what in the heck I was going to make for dinner. I was fully present with my Louie. So this, too, is a mindfulness practice. And it was FUN!