Five Minutes of Mindfulness

My wife and I have decided that it's important for us, as individuals and as a family (now that we have Babbo - not his real name, obviously!) to have a spiritual touchstone in our lives. Neither of us grew up religious, but we both want to have something that we can turn to for grounding and guidance, something a bit bigger than ourselves and our daily concerns.

Each night, after Babbo has fallen asleep, Wife and I sit facing each other, and she sets the timer on her iPod Touch for 5 minutes. She starts the timer, we hold hands, close our eyes, and meditate for 5 minutes. When the timer signals that our 5 minutes are up, we sometimes talk softly about what the experience was like for us, and sometimes we kiss each other goodnight, and I head off to bed and she returns to the office to continue her paper-making endeavors.

In the past, I used to sit for 10 or 20 minutes at a time. With a 13 month old son, I've had neither the time nor the energy for such sits; I made the mistake of believing that I needed that time or energy in order to sit at all, so for a long time I haven't.

But 5 minutes...I can do 5 minutes, and they've come to be something that I rely on and look forward to. Mostly I spend the time attempting to bring my attention back to my body, my breath, the moment. I have Monkey Mind in spades! Last night I spent most of the time being sad about "what if" Babbo died, followed by "what if" my wife died. This was interspersed with being present with the experience of fear, taking a step back to observe what was going on and simply labeling it: "fear. fear. fear." "sadness. love. attachment. fear." And then being pulled back into what my plan would be in the event of those losses. And back to the present. Over and over for 5 minutes.

Was it glamorous? Did I have any epiphanies? No, and I'm not sure. What I did experience, for the first time during one of these "what if I lost this important person in my life" episodes, was that there was a shift in my body as I turned a curious eye on the fear. I can't much describe it beyond "shift." It didn't take away the fear or the anxiety, but there was something new there.

All in 5 minutes.