We are arguing in the kitchen. She’s not happy with how I’ve been communicating, how I have isolated myself. I’m feeling attacked. My words become spiky, defensive.

Suddenly, I remember awareness. I remember breath and peace. I remember meditation.

Planting my feet firmly on the tiled floor, I fill my belly and heart with breath. I take my time, softening and relaxing my body, noticing how the chest and throat have become tense during our interaction.

I decide that being present and relaxed, with an open heart and clear vision, is more important than winning any argument. I tell her that I am going for a run in nature – and when I return we will re-engage.

Outside, the rain is soft and a heavy mist sits on the grass. From all directions I am bathed with the soft green light of plants and cooled by rain on my face. I walk, gorging on the wet air. I notice how the tension and stress had inhibited my breath.

I take as long as I need to feel centred, saturated with oxygen and relaxed all the way down to my feet. As I walk through my front door, she meets my heart with hers. We embrace, tears flow. Though there is still work to do, now at least we are relating from gentleness, from bodies relaxed into the wild openness of love.

To meditate in daily life means, to my mind, two things:

One, integrating the formal, dedicated practice of your chosen technique (or none) into the rhythm of your life – that is, not only while on retreat, in nature, or on the weekend…

Secondly, allowing the peace and clarity of meditation to suffuse your daily activities – working, walking, eating and so on.

Now, we could liken meditation practice to a musician developing her scales, or a baseball player honing his swing. These are fundamentals, the end of which is never reached. Yet they must always be kept sharp.

Ravi Shankar has likened it to showering. You wet and cleanse the body in the morning, then go about your work. You don’t keep showering all day!.

To the first point of establishing a daily practice, here are my suggestions:

Begin small. Really small. Set yourself up for the win. Try sitting for 2 minutes every morning and evening for one week. If that feels easy, try 3,5,10,15 minutes. Many elite performers find 20-25 minutes upon rising and before dinner to be about the sweet spot for balancing depth with productivity.

See what works for you. If you start dreading meditation practice, it’s time to reevaluate your methods. If stillness meditations don’t feel appropriate or easy, try movement (eg yoga, capoeira, tai chi), sound (chanting, humming, singing) or just decide to be in nature. There is a universe of possibilities out there. Perhaps your inner child can tell you what you need.

For stillness, try movement. This idea uses the dualistic nature of language to our advantage. Stillness and movement create each other – just as night and day, or man and woman, only make sense in relation to each other. In practical terms, try this: do 10 minutes of interval training before meditation. Sprints, stationary bike or calisthenics are all good options. Conversely, sit in meditation for 10 minutes before your next athletic activity. Feel how they support each other.

In routine, find momentum. The more we can integrate into the subconscious mind – and its biological equivalent, the parasympathetic nervous system – the more the conscious mind can focus its energy on the task at hand. Another way to say this is: if we know how, where, when and why we are meditating, then we can just focus on the meditation! So use routine and rhythm to your advantage. The body and the mind will be more relaxed, and the sense of momentum towards self-knowledge and clarity can grow.

Now we will look at some ideas to deal with the challenges of common daily activities:

Eating

The subject of conscious, balanced eating deserves your attention. I have seen major changes in my life and the lives of others simply by allowing focused awareness, clarity and calm to pervade times of eating.

Humanity is constantly exploring and expanding our knowledge of the food/human/earth relationship, insatiable in our quest for the best way to eat, the latest research, the ultimate diet system. Yet at the same time, our collective and individual perception is clarifying, enabling us to rediscover and reconnect with the body’s innate wisdom and guidance, that we may feel for ourselves exactly what we need to thrive.

I propose that feeling your body more – before, during and after eating – is a powerful way to reconnect with its original, unbiased intelligence. To eat what you need, when you need it and to stop when sated.

As the Zen adage goes, When hungry, eat. When tired, sleep. Try it. It’s more difficult than it sounds.

Like any other form of meditation, remaining aware during the consumption of food requires practice. Start with one breath, one bite.

If you feel a sensitivity around food, you could set an intention to eat slowly; breathing deeply between mouthfuls and chewing completely.  Also, consider allowing yourself to eat whatever your body asks for, or at least examining any beliefs, ideas and rules you hold around food.

You never know where such an open yielding might lead you – perhaps into a gentle, trusting and unbelievably beautiful relationship with the mysterious physical forms we have been entrusted with.

Drinking

Chew your water and drink your food, to quote again the lovable rogues of Zen. This refers to the practice of drinking slowly, almost sensually; and chewing food until it has become liquid in the mouth.

While water has an obvious practical role, its mystical essence should not go unheard. In Herman Hesse’s classic work, Siddhartha, the main character becomes enlightened listening to a river. In traditional christianity, a new baby is often baptized with water – just as Jesus was by John all those years ago. In more modern times, 10-time world record holder Wim Hof talks of how the cold water is his teacher. 

Know the water: in your blood, in your glass, in the rivers. Feel how all water is connected, sacred and life-giving. Do what you can to source the purest water for your family and to protect the water in your community.

Washing

I make everything a ritual, and I always do my best. Taking a shower is a ritual for me, and with that action I tell my body how much I love it. I feel and enjoy the water on my body. I do my best to fulfill the needs of my body. I do my best to give to my body and to receive what my body gives to me

– Miguel Ruiz

Here’s a ritual for you to use next time you step into the morning shower:

Begin with cold water. If this seems too much, one can start warm and finish cold. As the water first strikes you, give thanks with your whole body. Using your awareness, zoom in on specific parts of the body – wherever the water is landing – and try to consciously relax the skin and nerves there.

Feel any blockages, pain or tension; sadness or stress; anything you would like to release. First, simply remain conscious of what you feel and where it is in your body. When ready, allow it to drop off, flowing off your legs and away with the water, that great purifier.

Give thanks again, and don’t forget to wash!

This practice works even better in wild water – in rivers and lakes – if you feel confident and safe there.

Talking/Listening

To deepen your expression, you must also deepen your listening – and this can be practiced on the meditation mat. For when you listen to someone speak, with what do you listen?

The answer is unique to each individual. For me, I listen with my whole body, every cell opening to receive the message being transmitted. If I can refine and relax my body as an instrument of perception in meditation,  this helps me to remain connected, tuned-in and present during a conversation.

If I find myself becoming lost in judgement, criticism, advice or any of their fellow mind-games, I try to re-centre myself in the heart – physically opening the heart and chest area, listening and speaking from there.

Try this:

Choose someone you feel safe with and who would be open to exploring another way to communicate. Sit opposite each other, holding hands if you feel to. Keep gentle, stable eye contact during this practice, noticing if there are feelings which arise when you do so.

Some sages have said that to look at the left eye is more effective.

Now breath into your heart. Send the gift of your unique presence towards the other. If there are thoughts in your mind, don’t worry, that’s perfectly normal! Just return to breathing in and out from the heart, listening to the heart of the other with your whole body.

You can stay like this, or, after 10-15 minutes, begin using your words to communicate.

Conclusion

It was once said that Zen is thinking about God while peeling the potatoes.

The reply came: Actually, Zen is just peeling the potatoes.

Whether meditating or not, aware or not, ‘in my heart’ or not… there is always a witness beyond my perception and outside my thinking.

As Lao Tzu has written:

If this is too much
Just hold to the centre