“As you walk and eat and travel, be where you are. Otherwise you will miss most of your life. “
~ The Buddha

A friend told me about an app I could get for my phone that would provide a mindfulness bell which would ring at different times of the day to call me to the present moment. Given our community study of the book Sabbath by Wayne Muller which encourages such attention, it seemed a good thing to do. After downloading it, I anticipated the first chime and my Pavlovian response of stopping, breathing, being in the gift of the present moment. The first time it rang, I joyfully ceased my activity, breathed in a good cleansing breath, looked around me, made note of what I was doing and where I was. I was off to a good mindfulness start.

But as the last few days played out and the chimes have continued, I have learned some things about myself and about those with whom I walk this path. The first thing I learned was that I walk around much of the time holding my body tense. This was a surprise to me. What I learned was that when the sweet sound of the chime rang out, I almost always had to intentionally loosen the muscles in my shoulders and face as I was taking a deep breath. Where was this tension coming from? Mostly, I was surprised and clueless.

The next thing I learned was how completely NOT in the present moment I often find myself. I knew this because many times when the chime sounded its gentle tone, I jumped. This very quiet sound had startled me! After the startle wore off, I realized I had not at all been focused on what I was doing or where I was but was someplace in the future or mired in the past. Even though I was literally doing something in the present.

Perhaps the most surprising to me was the reaction or better put, lack of reaction, of those around me when the bell chimed. For the most part I did turn it off when I was in meetings believing it unfair to pull others into my evolving practice. But a few times and in my home I did not mute my phone. It was surprising to me how many people either did not hear the tone or continued to talk right over it. I guess we are so inundated with extraneous sound that a pure, clear tone at some random time is nothing to pay attention to. This seemed curious to me and not just a little sad.

Last year while touring Ireland, I found myself at Kylemore Abbey. This once family castle-home has since become the residence of an order of Benedictine nuns. Walking around the amazingly beautiful grounds, I heard the Angelus bells ring out from the tiny chapel on the estate. Just ahead of me, coming out of a door, a Benedictine sister was walking in the morning sunshine. At the sound of the bell, she stopped mid-stride and stood in a gentle, quiet stance. She bowed her head only momentarily and was in the present moment we both shared. I wondered at her prayers. I longed for a practice that would bring me to such stillness, such presence.

I am not sure what will happen with this new-found phone app. My hope is that it will help me learn more about my own breath, my own walk. Perhaps it will even help me relax the muscles that move this body through the world. This can only be a positive thing, right? If the only thing it does is to remind me of the gift of this present moment, that might be enough. And for that I can be grateful.