Many text messages between my friends and me take roughly this form: “Are you busy tomorrow? We should do something.”

That something often isn’t defined at the time. But when we arrive in each other’s physical presence, after we’ve caught up, eventually one of us has to ask: “So… what do you wanna do?”

Then we have to decide. We could for a walk, go eat, play a board game, check out what’s happening in the city, just chat, or something else.

One of my friends—and only one—sometimes throws me a curveball here, and suggests that we don’t do anything, at least not yet. We can just lounge here in the living room. Or not quite lounge, but just relax and do nothing.

I’m struggling to pick a verb for it. “Laze” and “lounge” both have moral connotations, as do “chill” or “veg.” “Hang out” is too general, and could mean switching on the TV, opening a bottle of something, or catching up.

I’m talking about just being in the room and not doing anything in particular, usually while reclining your body in some way, with no regard for the time and no idea of what to do next. Real idleness.  Read More

One evening last week, I was sitting on my front stoop waiting for a friend to come over. I brought a book out with me, but instead of reading I just sat there and let my senses take in the scene.

I didn’t look or listen for anything in particular, I just let the details of this particular moment in the neighborhood come to me: the quality of the air—heavy and warm, the incoming summer storm kind; birds; two couples having a conversation down the sidewalk; the clinking of dishes coming from inside the house to my right; distant hammering from a construction site somewhere in the blocks behind my house.

There was also a scent that I only recently learned has a name: petrichor. It’s the earthy scent of rain having just fallen on soil after a dry spell. You definitely know it. It was a big part of the overall flavor of the scene.

I engage this kind of receptive awareness often, particularly when I’m waiting for someone, and there’s something very satisfying about it. Every scene in our lives—whatever’s unfolding at any given time in a front yard, a living room, a doctor’s office, a grocery store—has its own unique tone and emotional signature, which you can notice if you’re not talking in your head, which we usually are.  Read More

In November, an article did the rounds—entitled “Actually, Let’s Not Be in the Moment”—in which the author describes, hilariously, a failed attempt at mindful dishwashing.

It’s quite relatable if you’ve ever tried to force yourself to “be with” some unpleasant domestic task like sorting recycling or scrubbing a drip tray. Even if you’re attracted to the idea of mindfulness, actually trying to commune with tedious or objectionable experiences often proves to be neither enlightening nor fulfilling.

The piece is mostly an exasperated rebuttal to the New Age tenet that we should force ourselves to “live in the moment”. It’s an understandable rant, and I think it represents an increasingly common sentiment in the self-improvement world: mindfulness is annoying.

At least, it’s annoying to try to be mindful all the time, and it’s annoying to be told to be mindful all the time. I receive emails expressing similar frustrations, from people who are tired of trying to find peace in the folding of laundry or the raking of litterboxes, even if they still believe it is somehow possible.

As the author, Ruth Whippman writes, “Mindfulness is supposed to be a defense against the pressures of modern life, but it’s starting to feel suspiciously like it’s adding to them.”  Read More

Happy New Year everyone. So I’m starting 2017 by not drinking any alcohol for four months.

The decision wasn’t made in the throes of a January 1st hangover. I had committed to an extended teetotaling break a few weeks before, the morning after attending the staff Christmas party of my former employer.

It was a rather restrained night, as far as get-togethers at the pub go. But the next day I remembered a detail that made me realize I’ve been making a huge miscalculation the entire eighteen years I’ve been drinking.

There seem to be three basic relationships a person can have with drinking. There are drinkers, dabblers and teetotalers.

Teetotalers never touch the stuff. Dabblers may have a glass of wine or a beer now and then, or even regularly, but they only occasionally have enough that they’d have to call a cab. They see drunkenness as an accident, a morally salient line one should avoid crossing. Drinkers get drunk on purpose, and obviously believe it’s worthwhile.

I have always been in the drinker category. Throughout my adult life, I’ve regularly gone out with the intention of having six or more drinks, sometimes many more. This is socially acceptable where I come from, but only recently has that begun to seem strange to me.  Read More

I don’t remember when they changed it, but Netflix no longer asks you if you want to watch another episode. Instead, it tells you you are going to unless you take immediate action. You have the option, if your drive to get on with your life is strong enough at that moment, to spring to your feet and stop the countdown before it’s too late.

Back in 2008 I quit putting the news on first thing in the morning. I had noticed that I didn’t really watch it, it was just comforting to have on, and that made me suspicious. So I stopped. The effect was strangely jarring—my breakfast-making routine seemed unnervingly quiet. Suddenly it was just me, my kitchen, and creeping thoughts about my job and my boss and whatever troublesome project we were on at the time.

For some reason just having the TV on seemed to soften the reality of those mornings, and turning it off seemed to intensify my problems. It was like life finally had room to square up and confront me directly, whereas with the TV on it could only make glancing contact.

You might have noticed this phenomenon too. Even when the TV has only been on in the background, life and all its responsibilities suddenly become a lot more vivid the instant it plunks off. And that can be a strangely uncomfortable moment, to be in a quiet room once again, suddenly quite aware that the rest of your day and the rest of your life is undecided, and you’re at the helm.

Often we already have an impending obligation somewhere else, and that’s why we turn it off in the first place. But without another vine to grasp the moment we let go of the TV, shutting it off reintroduces a certain existential weight to our experience.

One of the least-acknowledged peculiarities about human beings is that we can scarcely bear being in the moment we’re already in. It’s rare for us to truly be at ease in an ordinary present moment, if we’re not being entertained, gratified or otherwise occupied by something. We’re always planning better moments than this current one, or at least trying to soften or improve it with entertainment or food, or anything else that delivers some predictability to our experience.

Just letting life flow by, without adding anything to it, distracting ourselves from it, or fixating on the future, is strangely excruciating for us. It should be the easiest thing in the world to do, just to let time unfold at its own pace, but we’re so uncomfortable with that.

The present moment is seldom good enough. We’ll do anything to avoid experiencing the moment unadulterated, even useless things like biting our lip, reading the sides of cereal boxes, or thumbing the seams of our jeans.  Read More

“You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” – Jon Kabat-Zinn

Okay folks! Registration is now open for the third season of Camp Calm.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog you’ve definitely heard me mention Camp Calm, a lot, and you probably already know whether you want to do it. So if that’s you, you can register here right now.

For new or intermittent readers: a few times a year I hold a 30-day virtual workshop for learning the basics of meditation and mindful living. There’s a daily lesson via email, a short reading, and a daily practice. There’s also a forum where we chat about our experiences and help each other out.

Including everything, it requires 20-30 minutes a day, and you can split that time up if you like.

The goal is to develop a modest but consistent meditation practice that works with your schedule.

Meditation is a household word now, although it’s still a pretty fuzzy concept for most people. We don’t teach it in schools yet, although we are at the beginning of the beginning of that era.

Its typical benefits, however, are widely known now: reduced stress and anxiety, better sleep, improved confidence in social situations, greater openness to beauty and creativity, better habit management, and improved overall quality of life.

So we’re in a weird era for meditation — lots of interest but also a large number of people stuck at the “interested, but not actually doing it” stage. The goal of Camp Calm is to ease you into a daily practice, where you are actually doing it. It’s all done with short, simple sessions, removing the confusion and mysticism.

Even a modest meditation practice develops mindfulness, a skillful type of attention that you can use to bring clarity and ease to virtually any moment of your life. It’s a tool that will never cease to be useful, and will never fade with age. Meditation sharpens this tool, and also helps us cultivate other healthy qualities: wisdom, patience, confidence, and calm, to name a few. 

All 30 lessons are written by me, and they’re all exclusive to Camp Calm. None of it has appeared on Raptitude or anywhere else.

Day One of camp is September 12th, 2016, and the last day is October 11th. The readings and practices are very short and you can do them according to your own schedule each day. Everything else is figured out for you.

Registration is scheduled to stay open for a week, but as I mention frequently, it sold out quickly both times and the number of spots available will be the same.

The price will also be the same as last time: $69 USD. (And as with the previous seasons, those of you who bought You Are Here are entitled to a discount, which you should have received an email about earlier. If you didn’t get it, just shoot me an email before you register to let me know.)

This is what comes with registration:

The Orientation Booklet explains everything you need to know about how Camp works, in a few pages. All you have to do when you register is read it, and you’re set. 30 short daily lessons, which arrive by email The digital guide Making Things Clear: A Brief Guide for People Who Think Meditation is Hard (in PDF, epub and Kindle formats) The digital guide You Are Here: A Modern Person’s Guide to Living in the Present (also in all three formats) Guided audio meditations in MP3 format Access to the discussion forum where you can ask questions and share your experiences with other campers

Campers can also email me directly with questions at any time. I will do anything I can to help you establish a lasting practice that enriches your life.

You can download your welcome package right away. If it interests you, I hope you’ll join us.

Register for Camp Calm

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Over 130 campers offered to leave testimonials. Here are a few:

“Huge differences! I can’t believe how much can be gained in such a short time. I feel calmer and more in control of my emotions. I can find joy at some point, each and every day no matter how mundane the day seems. It isn’t always easy to commit to regular daily practice but the benefits are worth the effort. I honestly think it has been a life changing experience!”

Kim, Manchester

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“Much better control of my impulses/addictions. Much greater awareness of what is actually happening in the moment. Didn’t realize how much time I spent in my head ignoring what was literally right in front of me. Over time I learned to recognize the sensations going on inside my body too.”

Matt, New York

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“I’ve been meaning to write to you to thank you. My partner and I have maintained a consistent practice ever since camp ended. We miss a day every once in a while, but always get back to meditating. I’ve also stacked a gratitude journaling habit on top, and I really believe that both are improving my happiness and tranquility.”

Laura, Boston

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“I’ve honestly been floored by the positive difference in my general day to day life experience. I was dubious to begin with, having heard endless proponents of meditation, but never truly believing that such a simple practice could actually have a profound influence on my existence. I’ve found myself living with lessened anxiety, clearer thinking, and an overall slightly happier state of being.”

Dan, Los Angeles

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All graphics by David Cain

Whether we’re aware of it or not, we basically move through life in one of two ways, and each of us has a favorite. We’re either moving towards what we want, or we’re moving away from what we don’t want.

It might seem like moving away from what you don’t want accomplishes the same thing as moving towards what you do want. If you’re successfully moving away from pain, dullness and disappointment, what could you be moving towards, other than pleasure, excitement and fulfillment? It should be a simple matter to decide which way to go.  Read More

My brain, like all brains, houses an unbelievable quantity of remembered information, and a huge amount of that information is stuff I’ve watched on television. I always hated Star Trek, and frequently said so, but whenever I catch a clip of The Next Generation, somehow I’ve seen that episode before.

I was also never exactly a fan of The Oprah Winfrey Show, but I’ve surely seen several hundred hours of it. For years after it went off the air, I kept remembering a particular insight Oprah shared once. I forget the context, but Oprah was amazed to realize that she didn’t have to answer the phone just because it was ringing.

It was a significant insight to me too, not because answering the phone is a particularly difficult task, but because it meant there was an invisible freedom there, which I somehow didn’t realize I had. Even if I still answered every call, it felt like a choice. Before that, it had been a kind of a master-slave type relationship, in which some remote person could push some buttons and force my body up onto its feet (perhaps tearing me away from a Star Trek rerun).

I am slowly grasping another overlooked freedom, which is the freedom to let people be right (or at least feel right) even though I think they’re wrong. When someone tries to tell the world that Crash is a brilliant film, or that evolution is “just a theory”, I forget that I am free to let them continue to think so.

I gather I have a long history of arguing my views, even when I’m not sure why I’m doing it. One time I was respectfully disagreeing with a coworker about something, and after a particularly good point I made, his tone went from sporting to angry and he said, “Damn, you are one argumentative person!” I told him he was wrong, but later wondered for a few seconds if I was indeed argumentative. No, he was the argumentative one. Otherwise he would have realized I was right.

And this was before the internet was omnipresent in our lives, before it started joining us in the bathroom, back when “going online” was still just an activity you did for part of the day, rather than an additional mode of global perception we can activate at any moment. The typical person experienced far fewer moments in which it felt appropriate to argue a point beyond what politeness allows.  Read More