On practising mindfulness while driving

I’ve come to realize that, in my more balanced moments, I’ve actually been practising mindfulness since long before it became trendy.

I remember to this day how, fifty years ago, one of my school pals, a farm kid, invited me over for an afternoon of beam walking in the barn. That’s what farm kids used to do for fun.

Now they play Fortnite instead.

But back in the day, they’d head out to the barn for a turn of barn-beam walking. You’d climb into the heights of that barn, and set out on a beam that traversed the barn’s upper reaches at maybe thirty feet above the floor.

Being afraid of heights, this immediately became an exercise in mindfulness for me. Take one step. Stop. Close your eyes. Smell the hay. Smell the manure. Smell the cow flesh… with every breath. Take another breath and repeat. Take another step and repeat…

They say mindfulness is closely related to the practice of yoga. I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure I’d clear out any yoga studio in the world in a hurry if I showed up in my Lulu Lemon yoga tights.

Mindfulness, on the other hand, doesn’t require a studio. Or tights.

Mindfulness can be practised anytime, anywhere.

In fact, I’ve even incorporated mindfulness into my driving routines. Just the other day I was motoring at a good turn of speed down the 400 highway, and I suddenly came up behind some idiot choking the far left lane with his Toyota Prius, ambling along at an environmentally friendly 85 kilometres per hour.

I flashed the high beams a couple times. No reaction. It briefly crossed my mind to pull the .357 out of the glove box and fire a warning shot through his rear window to get the fucktard to move out of the passing lane…

But then my years of experiential mindfulness came to my rescue.

Hey, what’s the hurry, I asked myself.

There is no hurry, I replied.

And so I snuggled up behind that Prius. 85kph on the 400? Who cares?

I guess those fast and furious VIP types passing on the right and waving their middle fingers at me cared, but so what? I stuck behind that Prius poking along in the fast lane all the way into the city.

Then, when I found myself at a red light, I’d lean back and close my eyes and think about the smells in that barn fifty years ago. Breathe deeply, I told myself, and I’d keep my eyes closed through two or three traffic light cycles before moving, slowly and mindfully, forward.

And you know what? That trip to the city took a little longer than normal, but I felt totally calm and together when I got home!

Too bad all those go-getters giving me the finger couldn’t join our little caravan of mindfulness out there on the 400 highway. They got all stressed out.

I feel great!

That’s the magic of mindfulness!