Graciousness

When I think of people who seem to embody mindfulness, something they share in common is the quality of graciousness. There is a sense of fluidity and grace to how they engage with the world – they’re not barging through the day lost in self-centred pre-occupations. They allow space for people around them and don’t use up all the oxygen in the room. At the same time, they interact with a sense of presence, not hiding behind false modesty.

Graciousness could be described as ‘good manners with a heart’ – there is a sense of courtesy, but also warmth and care. One of the many meanings of mindfulness, of course, is to be ‘mindful’ of someone else’s needs, to treat them with respect and consideration. What comes through is an attitude of caring both for others and also oneself.

 We get a sense of someone’s character when they are gracious under pressure, such as a sportsperson who is gracious in defeat, or someone who has been on hold for forty minutes and still manages to be reasonably polite to the person on the other end of the phone. Many a first date has probably been ruined when something went wrong with the meal and the dinner companion was rude to the waiter. It is challenging to be gracious when we’re exhausted, hungry or very stressed. Yet some people seem to manage it, and we can all be grateful for them when life gets chaotic.

To graciously acknowledge a mistake and make amends; to concede someone else is right and you were wrong; to look out for another passenger after the plane has been sitting on the tarmac for seven hours without moving – all these small moments have a ripple effect into wider society. None of us gets it perfect all the time, and even the Dalai Lama admits to being grumpy occasionally. To me, it feels more like an underlying mindset than a particular formula for how to behave in given situations.

At a deeper level, graciousness can be about how we approach life – whether with a sense of grace and flow, or else with the mentality that life is a battle we have to power our way through. There may be times for standing one’s ground and not yielding – but most of the time, an attitude of openness and goodwill is likely to be more productive, and allows a greater sense of possibility for ourselves and for those we interact with.

 

Mindfulness practice idea:

It is difficult to feel gracious when we’re rushing around. Take a moment to slow down and notice someone who is being gracious – perhaps giving up their seat on the train, offering a friendly smile in the shops, or showing a willingness to gracefully compromise for the greater good. Notice the sense of expansiveness in that interaction, and how it feels in your body.

 

Anja Tanhane

Our mindset – Part 2





Last week we looked at the growth mindset, and how it fosters an inner motivation to learn and improve. There is the old saying about achievement being 1 % inspiration and 99 % perspiration, and the stories quoted by Carol Dweck in her book ‘Mindset – how you can fulfill your potential’ seem to bear this out. Some children certainly learn more easily than others, but when so-called ‘poor’ students were motivated by teachers who instilled a love of learning, their grades improved markedly. Teachers would give feedback like ‘I can see how hard you’ve worked at this’, rather than, ‘clever girl’. They praised the effort rather than ascribing some inherent fixed ability to the student, and the students felt empowered to learn, and thrived.

I often hear people say ‘oh, you wouldn’t want to hear me sing’, or ‘I tried meditation ten years ago but I couldn’t stop my thoughts, it’s obviously not for me’. Having taught both music and meditation for many years, I know both statements aren’t true. Singing is first about learning how to listen, but people who’ve been told they can’t sing are far too nervous to relax and really listen to the tune they would like to sing. And as for thoughts during meditation – these are a given, everyone has them. In our culture, there is sometimes a mystique about both music and meditation, as if they’re rarefied endevours best left to a few select performers or gurus. This is a good example of a fixed mindset, which doesn’t allow much room for growth. Unfortunately, this means that adults who want to learn music or meditation may be easily discouraged, as they feel their slow progress reflects on their ability rather than being part and parcel of the learning experience.

In Buddhism, the five hindrances to meditation are 1) greed or sensual desire 2) ill-will or aversion 3) sloth or torpor 4) restlessness, including anxiety or worry, and 5) paralysing doubt. There are a number of different ‘remedies’ which are suggested, and over the coming weeks we will explore these five hindrances and some possible ways of working with them. However, while it is helpful to draw on the wisdom of 2500 years of investigation and knowledge, in the end the learning needs to come from within us. What does it mean for me to feel sleepy, restless, or paralysed by doubt? Does my attitude towards meditation limit me, or does it allow room for growth? Sometimes our limiting beliefs are quite subtle, yet very powerful. We all struggle with limiting thoughts, but, according to the theory of mindset, whether we see our hindrances as challenges to work with, or obstacles which block our path, can make quite a difference to our lives in the long term.

Weekly practice idea:

If you look at the list of five hindrances, do one or two stand out for you? Take ten minutes to reflect on what role the hindrance might play in your life.

Anja Tanhane