The simple antidote to busy days

For many of us Autumn is a season of back-to-back meetings and long days. Maybe it’s the programming and rhythm of the school year, an unconscious rush to the winter break, or the pace of the financial year.

Whatever the reason this busyness can descend on us just as the dark skies close in before our day of work is done. This time of year I find myself missing the topsy-turvy seasonal experience of living in Australia, the warmth of summer creeping onto my skin as my internal clock still anticipates a cold Christmas ahead.

Recently I notice another low-humming background noise to my mood. It is the oscillation between anger and acceptance of what this pandemic is taking away from us: our most vulnerable members of society, the most vulnerable parts of our arts and civilised life, the competing feelings of gratitude and concern for loved ones. It’s like discovering your laptop is downloading software you didn’t want and it’s taking up bandwidth. Or maybe that’s just me?

As you log-off-and-on to meetings, how do you find the space to think, create, be, and breathe during your day?

Here is one simple antidote: start each meeting with a minute of silence.

Take the minute to consider what’s in front of you: to check in with your heartbeat, breath, and intentions. If you find yourself sitting at the same desk, speaking through the same microphone, viewing through the same screen, this offers a chance to reconfigure, re-orientate, and adjust your internal - if not external - position. It allows the brain a moment of peace to kick-in of its own volition, to start whirring to its own rhythm. Let your heart and gut engage with the new humans and task in front of you from instinct and curiosity, rather than the pressure of expectation and the ticking demands of Time.

I still recall my first experience of practising mindfulness in meetings. We were a little self-conscious at first but soon felt calm and focussed. There was less agitation in our discussions, more curiosity about different ideas…and meetings often ended early. We took three minutes to sit together in silence, including those dialling in on the phone or video. I often start leadership workshops in this way too, either listening to a piece of music together or taking a moment to gather ourselves in silence before we begin.

The idea of starting with silence emerged in a workshop recently and raised all sorts of dilemmas for the group. I wasn’t the one to suggest it but it certainly captured people’s interest. Some shared the issue of giving themselves permission to take up their space of the ‘who I am to ask for…’ variety. Someone else questioned whether they wanted to be ‘that person’ to suggest something weird and different that makes other people feel awkward, or even worse, makes you look silly if your idea is rejected. Ultimately if your intentions are pure and you suggest it in a clear and confident way, others will feel more at ease too…maybe even grateful.

We explored the stories and assumptions that hold us back from claiming what we all have a legitimate right to at work: to state our needs, and take up our space. Even if just for one minute.

With this group we also realised we could take ourselves and the need to pause more seriously. Not a furrowed brow kind of serious, but in the spirit of care, compassion, and wisdom for what could help support the demands of a busy day, and what the humans on your screen might need but may also be too self-conscious to ask for.

A final note: one person responded by saying ‘maybe I don’t want to check in with how I’m feeling, maybe it’s better to just keep moving’. The fear we identified was of being exposed, and a well of emotion pouring out that would be hard to put back in.

Being present to the moment means being present to our feelings, including the ones that are less comfortable. Pausing to check in with ourselves can dissolve the armour we might subtly - or not so subtly - construct to get through the day. If you have a voice that tells you once you feel you’ll never stop, or that it’s humiliating to have feelings at work, then little and often is the best antidote. You don’t need to meditate with colleagues for three minutes or even ten minutes (although I would highly recommend trying it at least once…). In fact you don’t need to ‘meditate’ at all, and you don’t need to share your feelings with anyone. The invitation is to simply try one minute of silence and see what happens.