Underneath my yellow skin

Mindfulness? More like mindlessness (part two)

Today’s word is mindfulness. Words I don’t like, I mean. That’s what I’m focused on these past few days. I can hear you wondering aloud what issue I could possible have with mindfulness. Being aware of one’s inner sensations, feelings, etc., as well as one’s outer environment can’t be a bad thing, right?

Of course that’s a leading question. I would not ask it if I did not have an answer that was counter to what common belief is. I will say that I get the point of mindfulness andĀ  I am not saying it’s completely bad. What I will say is that it’s not universally good, either.

Side note: Twenty years ago, it was not a thing. Now, it’s a big thing. Being mindful, I mean. I know that things change over time, but it’s bemusing to me in this case.

Roughly seventeen years ago, my Taiji teacher started to incorporate meditation into her classes. I struggled with it from the start, and at a certain point, I started having flashbacks. I told her I could not do it any longer. She put a pair of practice deer horn knives in my hands and showed me how to walk the circle. I fell in love with theĀ  deer horn knives, which I have talked about several of times. This post is not about that, though.

Once mindfulness became a societal thing and somewhat of a godlike idol for many people, I became intrigued by the phenomenon–and lowkey irked. Not just because I’m a contrarian who hates it when something becomes a snake oil answer for everything that ails you, but also because, well, it makes me wonder what I’m missing.

Here’s the thing. Mindfulness is like ASMR to me. If I had no reaction to it, then I would just let it go. I hate ASMR. It sends me into an instant rage (well, certain types of ASMR. Funnily enough, I read a story from someone who in some professional capacity studied ASMR? Shilled the positive benefits of it? Something like that. He said with a straight face that ASMR could not fail anyone; it can only BE failed by a person.

He did not say that exactly, of course. But that’s what he meant. He said that no one actually had a negative reaction to ASMR because ASMR was a positive reaction. Gotta love that circular meaning! I get what he was trying to say, but to me, that’s not a legit answer. It’s pretty amusing that he wants to make it so that ASMR is negative reaction-proof. He went on to say that if the people who reacted negatively could actually feel the ASMR properly, they would react positively to it.


Look. If your product causes a chunk of the population to rage out and want to punch a wall/throw things, then maybe your product is not as great as you think it is. I mean, it just isn’t. And it’s fine! That’s life in general. Not everyone is going to like any one given thing.

And I’m fine with that. Or I would be if people who liked it weren’t so ardent about defending it. What I didn’t know, by the way, was that there are people who have no reaction to it at all.

Back to mindfulness. I did some research, and I found out that mindfulness/meditation can have a negative side effect on people with PTSD and maybe even depression and/or anxiety. It hasn’t been studied, sadly, but one theory is that people who have mental health issues are already way too introspective and don’t need to look inward more intently.

I think that’s part of it, but it also just makes me feel prickly and unpleasant. Oh, I did read a few articles about the negative side effects of meditation, and this one from Psychology Today was solid. Dr. Muller, the author mentioned a few things such as the fact that many meditation leaders are not trained how to deal with mental health issues. Thus, they don’t know what to do when people have negative reactions.

I think this is so true, especially since, as I just said, there isn’t much research into the negative effects of meditation/mindfulness.

For me, personally, I think about myself way too much of the time in the first place. I don’t need to do it more intensely, thank you very much. I think that’s one reason I love Taiji so much, especially the weapons. I have to concentrate on what I’m doing, but it also gives me space to just be. It’s a way to be introspective without thinking too much about me.

Side note: With my last therapist, I would ruminate over an issue I had in a way that was not helpful. I knew that talking in depth about an issue was a trap for me. It was a way to distance myself from the issue rather than get to the core of it.

My therapist listen to me ramble for a few minutes before stopping me short. She said, “Minna, thinking too much is what got you into this (mental health issues); it’s not going to be what gets you out.” She put it much more eloquently than that, but that was the gist.

And that’s what Taiji (and now Bagua) gives me. It gives me the opportunity to focus on me while not focusing on me. It’s hard to explain. I still don’t like meditation, and I get through it by thinking of something else.

This is where I give my pitch for expanding the definition of meditation. Sitting and breathing and focusing on your breath isn’t the only way to do it. It’s a state of mind, and for me, doing it the traditional way is not good for my state of mind.

I am thankful that my teacher took it gracefully that I could not do meditation. I don’t know how I would have reacted if she pooh-poohed me or pushed me to do it. I don’t know if I could stay with her if she wasn’t so understanding.

Now, I’m teaching myself the Bagua Knives Form, and this is my meditation. Walking meditation is a thing, by the way. It’s about intent and not about sitting as still as possible. I have more to say about it, but I’m putting this post to bed. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.

 

 

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