In researching content for this site, I quickly found myself surrounded by books on happiness, well-being and positive psychology.
My days were spent reading through them, highlighting sections I wanted to come back to, drawing together key themes and being introduced to yet more writers and pieces of research during my reading.
It reached the point when it was all I was doing, and I came to the realisation that my research into happiness was making me unhappy.
The reason was that it had become my main an only focus, and I’d cut out from my life everything that brings me joy.
Moving too fast to enjoy the journey
I was also moving too fast to be able to enjoy the journey. I needed to slow the pace down and briefly step away from the research to recharge and come back to it with renewed energy.
I’m writing this in the rose garden of our local park on a blissfully sunny day with the sound of children playing ball games in the background.
There’s a small plane flying overhead, a family sitting on a picnic blanket to my right and a couple eating vanilla ice creams just ahead.
I’m sitting on a bench with rose bushes in my direct eye line spanning the full range of colours from reds and pinks to yellows and white.
The park is busy with cyclists and joggers, and over the wall behind me there are families playing on the tennis courts. But the noise doesn’t bother me as I’m tuned in to the stillness and the peace that comes with being outdoors in nature.
In my hand I have a gorgeous book written by Haemin Sunin called The Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down: How to be Calm in a Busy World.
I’m struck by the beautiful illustration on the cover. It’s a black tree with delicate white flowers, and a bright yellow sun against a blue background.
The mind sees what it is looking for
The opening chapter of the book reminds us of a famous Buddhist saying that ‘everyone appears as Buddhas in the eyes of the Buddha, and everyone appears as pigs in the eyes of a pig.’
The point is that we see what the mind is looking for. We experience the world according to the state of our mind.
Heading out to read a book about slowing down and noticing what we normally do not see, I was primed to see the beauty in the world, which is exactly what I did.
When your mind is joyful and compassionate, the world is too. When your mind is filled with negative thoughts, the world appears negative too. When you feel overwhelmed and busy, remember that you are not powerless. When your mind rests, the world also rests.
Forgetting myself for a moment, I took a photo of the book and posted it on Instagram before remembering that the purpose of the trip was to relax, slow down, and leave the busy world of social media behind.
Slowing down and being present in the moment is clearly a skill that has to be learned.
Slow, reflective reading
The book is beautifully illustrated. It’s not a book to be rushed through. It needs to be read slowly and savoured. The wisdom that lies between its pages needs to be reflected on for it to be of optimal value.
Thinking about what I had learned, I stopped reading and sat, reflecting, yet feeling slightly self-conscious that I was sitting on a bench in a public park appearing by to do nothing. I then reminded myself that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, and quickly realised that no one was watching me anyway.
The calmness of the present
There is a calmness in being present in the moment, of not thinking ahead to work the following day, or thinking back to the two large cookies I ate yesterday. There is no stress, no judgement, there is just this one moment, right now.
Noticing the little things
Sitting doing nothing, I noticed the vapour trails in the sky, the Union Jack umbrella someone was using for shade, the sound of a train travelling on the distance, the smell of the grass, the cluster of daisies surrounding the flowers beds, and the rustle of the trees that had always been there. I just hadn’t paid attention to before.
Later, with yesterday’s cookies now digested, hunger took over and I headed home. Refuelled I continued the slow pace of the day.
*While posted in late September, this post was written on a sunny day in July.
