Begin Within

We rarely pay attention to how much of the day we move though on autopilot. We have our schedule and we stick to it. We move from one thing to the next unconsciously as we brush our teeth, make our breakfast, eat our food, and drive to work. Before you know it the day is gone and we have no idea how it’s slipped past us. For years I’ve made a conscious effort to be mindful of this. I’m more successful at being present than ever before, but even still, I catch myself on autopilot more often than I’d like. It’s a hard habit to break.

I teach children music part-time, and it’s easy to slip into autopilot and mentally multitask. Today, I was momentarily in another world, when partway through teaching my second class something brought me out of dreamland.

I teach a sweet boy named Ben who is undiagnosed but clearly developmentally delayed and possibly autistic. He rarely shows expression. When the other kids dance, Ben sits motionless. When we tap our sticks, Ben stuffs them up his pant legs. When we ring bells, Ben sticks them in his mouth.

Today was different. Today while teaching a game, I heard Ben laugh for the first time EVER. I was in my head, planning my afternoon when I heard his laughter, I was immediately brought back into the present, almost moved to tears. I had never before witnessed within him joy, clarity and engagement. He had connected. There was brightness in his eyes. And to think, I could have so easily missed this magical moment.

For the rest of the day I remained fully present. Events stopped being a means to an end. On the way home I slowed down at the red lights with awareness. I took advantage of the opportunity to smile at people, instead of impatiently “waiting” for the lights to change so I could rush on to my next destination. I closed my eyes and heard the birds sing. I felt the cool wind kiss my cheek. I inhaled the sweet smell of coconut sifting through the air. When I got home I ate my food s-l-o-w-l-y at the kitchen table, savoring each bite. I actually tasted my food. Yum. What a concept.

It’s time to get off autopilot.

Tomorrow’s a new day. And my hope is that I’ll continue to be mindful of the present moment; and that when I slip out of that mindfulness, which undoubtedly will happen, I’ll acknowledge it and bring myself back to “Now”. Perhaps I’ll be rewarded with something equally as precious as the sound of a little boy’s rare laughter. Time goes quickly and I’d like to be present to as many as those special moments as possible. Those are the moments that it’s all about. Yum.