The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation

by Thich Nhat Hanh

And so, if he really wants “unlimited time,” he will have to keep alive the realization that “this is my time” throughout the time he’s studying with Joey. But during such times, one’s mind is inevitably distracted by other thoughts, and so if one really wants to keep one’s consciousness alive (from now on I’ll use the term “mindfulness” to refer to keeping one’s consciousness alive to the present reality), then one must practice right now in one’s daily life, not only during meditation sessions.

I like to walk alone on country paths, rice plants and wild grasses on both sides, putting each foot down on the earth in mindfulness, knowing that I walk on the wondrous earth. In such moments, existence is a miraculous and mysterious reality. People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle.

But active, concerned people don’t have time to spend leisurely, walking along paths of green grass and sitting beneath trees. One must prepare projects, consult with the neighbors, try to resolve a million difficulties; there is hard work to do. One must deal with every kind of hardship, every moment keeping one’s attention focused on the work, alert, ready to handle the situation ably and intelligently.

Mindfulness is the miracle by which we master and restore ourselves. Consider, for example: a magician who cuts his body into many parts and places each part in a different region—hands in the south, arms in the east, legs in the north, and then by some miraculous power lets forth a cry which reassembles whole every part of his body. Mindfulness is like that—it is the miracle which can call back in a flash our dispersed mind and restore it to wholeness so that we can live each minute of life.

If, in your mind, you think, “I wish this fellow would quit talking, so I could concentrate,” you have already lost your mindfulness. But if you think, instead, “If he wishes to talk, I will answer, but I will continue in mindfulness, aware of the fact that we are walking along this path together, aware of what we say, I can continue to watch my breath as well.”

In order to measure your breath you can count—or use a rhythmic phrase that you like. (If the length of your breath is 6, you might use instead of numbers, the six words, “My heart is now at peace.” If the length is 7 you might use, “I walk on the new green earth.” A Buddhist might say, “I take refuge in the Buddha.” For a Christian it could be “Our Father who art in heaven.” When you are walking, each step should correspond to one word.

Your breath should be light, even, and flowing, like a thin stream of water running through the sand. Your breath should be very quiet, so quiet that a person sitting next to you cannot hear it. Your breathing should flow gracefully, like a river, like a watersnake crossing the water, and not like a chain of rugged mountains or the gallop of a horse. To master our breath is to be in control of our bodies and minds. Each time we find ourselves dispersed and find it difficult to gain control of ourselves by different means, the method of watching the breath should always be used.

As the Buddhist Sutra of Mindfulness says: “Breathing in a long breath, you know, ‘I am breathing in a long breath.’ Breathing out a long breath, the practitioner knows, ‘I am breathing out a long breath.’ Breathing in a short breath, you know, ‘I am breathing in a short breath.’ Breathing out a short breath, you know, ‘I am breathing out a short breath.’ Experiencing the whole breath-body, I shall breathe in.” Thus you train yourself. “Experiencing

the whole breath-body, I shall breathe out.” Thus you train yourself. “Calming the activity of the breath-body, I shall breathe in.” Thus you train yourself. “Calming the activity of the breath-body, I shall breathe out.” Thus you train yourself.

“While washing the dishes, you might be thinking about the tea afterwards, and so try to get them out of the way as quickly as possible in order to sit and drink tea. But that means that you are incapable of living during the time you are washing the dishes. When you are washing the dishes, washing the dishes must be the most important thing in your life. Just as when you’re drinking tea, drinking tea must be the most important thing in your life. When you’re using the toilet, let that be the most important thing in your life.” And so on. Chopping wood is meditation. Carrying water is meditation. Be mindful 24 hours a day, not just during the one hour you may allot for formal meditation or reading scripture and reciting prayers. Each act must be carried out in mindfulness. Each act is a rite, a ceremony. Raising your cup of tea to your mouth is a rite. Does the word “rite” seem too solemn? I use that word in order to jolt you into the realization of the life-and-death matter of awareness.