Skip to main content

Prayer as Mindfulness

I had this insight the other day while driving to work a few weeks ago. I was thinking about mindfulness, a technique used for anxiety. The definition of mindfulness is a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment while calmly acknowledging and accepting one's feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique. 

I'm still learning to use mindfulness myself. It's definitely something that's hard to use in the moment of anxiety, just because when I finally get to a moment where anxiety is bad enough that it's bothering me, I've already gone down a road of multiple thoughts and worries that get me there. It's hard to piece through them and see which thoughts aren't true and which are. With mindfulness, you're supposed to be able to deal with the anxiety by accepting what is real and what isn't and just staying in the present moment. 
A few weeks before this thought, I'd been getting to work way earlier than I needed to, so I thought that maybe I'd try to practice some mindfulness exercises before I went in. That didn't go well because it got hot in the car, and there were sketchy people in the parking lot. So I just went into work and got started with my day. 

The next few days I decided to use those extra minutes to just talk with Heavenly Father. I'd go through everything in my life that I was grateful for, and realized all these things going for me that I hadn't. I'd tell him about my worries and thoughts, and as I was talking these things out with him, I would just see things in these situations that I hadn't noticed before, and things wouldn't seem as bad or crazy as they had before. 

Going through the act of praying made me stay in the present moment and examine it for what it was. I was looking at my life and situations as they were. I was thinking about why I thought about things in a certain way. And then it hit me. 

Praying is mindfulness! The act of praying and talking with my Heavenly Father is literally the act of mindfulness. And I did notice a difference. On those mornings where I took the time to pray, I had a better day. My anxiety was less. I was able to deal with things better. I know part of that is because I was actually praying and communing with Him, and He was helping me get through the day. But the other part is because I was doing the very things that scientists and my therapist tell me help with anxiety. 

I'm now even more excited to pray. I already think it's so cool that I actually get to talk one on one with the Creator of the universe. But the very act of talking to Him and communication is a way to get through my specific trials. So cool. 

Comments

  1. BaileyAugust 2, 2016 at 9:18 AM

    When I was in college, I remember working 10 hours a week in the dishroom of the school cafeteria. I had to stand behind a gigantic, hot dishwashing machine by myself... it was so noisy, I couldn't listen to the radio. So I started whispering prayers to God. I would pray over everything from my classes to the students to thankfulness that I could work and earn money. I remember feeling SO close to God in that semester that I worked the dishroom. I'm trying to be better about praying more and incorporating prayer into my daily routine.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Racism, stereotypes, and plain ole judging

Being in a class dedicated to the idea of migration has really kept the idea of racism on the brain. In elementary school, the idea of racism was so defined to me, thinking people are better than others based solely on the color of their skin. It wasn't until middle school after reading many books that I realized racism wasn't jut as issue of black versus white, rather it applies to all cultures. In high school I was actually shocked to here racist statements from people I loved. All the sudden this issue became personal somewhat. (My favorite statement was from a little girl who said, it should be illegal for Mexicans to have babies. I guess I can't have kids then.)  But it wasn't until last week when we did an activity in my public health class that I realized that I myself was being racist as well. Now, this is something I am not proud of. I'm very embarrassed actually and that activity was humbling. Why am I writing about this? Because, it's som...
1 comment
Read more

Toxic Masculinity

It seems like forever ago that they released that Gilette ad about toxic masculinity. I watched as people I'd grown up with freaked out about it, saying that it said that men need to be like women, and that it condemned masculinity altogether, along with other things. I crafted post after post to write on my social media, but in the end didn't bother writing anything. I didn't feel like arguing with people. But I had to share my thoughts somewhere, so here they are.  To me, toxic masculinity is exactly what it says-- ideals of masculinity that are toxic. It's telling your son that he needs to suck it up and not cry. That he can get away with more than girls because 'boys will be boys.' The idea that he can't read or watch certain media because it's "for girls." At the same time, girls are asked to watch things that are "for boys" all of the time. It's the idea that men need to repress their feelings. That they can't be sc...
1 comment
Read more

Little Bit o Writing Monday

The beginning of my short story for class.  When Dora's son tugged on her pants leg, the last thing she expected was to see him holding a tooth. A tooth that clearly did not belong to him. She was no dentist, but she was smart enough to know the colossal thing couldn't have come from Mark's mouth. “Mark, where did you find that?” Dora scolded. “In the backyard.” “Show me where,” Dora commanded. Excited, Mark ran out to the backyard, Dora following on his heels. He led her over to the back of the yard, to the particular corner that couldn't be seen from the kitchen window. There, her other two children were gathered around a hole in the ground. Hole was an understatement though, they'd obviously been working on this, pit, for quite sometime. If there had been no tooth, Dora would have sat the kids down and explained how digging holes this deep was dangerous because of all the water, electric, and who knows what else lines were under the ...
1 comment
Read more