I have a problem. It became all too clear while my son and I walked to the grocery co-op. We weren’t in a hurry, but I was practically dragging him along. It made no sense. So, I slowed my pace to match his. We chatted. We idly poked at moss in the sidewalk cracks. The fall air seemed crisper, more pleasant. I can remember every detail of those few minutes, but at the end of most days, I can barely remember what we ate, where we went, what we talked about. Instead of memories, I have blurs.

I want to change that. I want to slow things down. But how? I know about the importance of turning off the television and going outside; I know about the importance of free play. I’ve read about “slow parenting,” the lifestyle opposite to the over-scheduled world of “helicopter parents.” I’ve even read about the extremely hands-off style of parenting “free-range kids.”

After talking to Rachel Greb, a children’s yoga teacher and owner of Yoga Sprouts in Athens, GA, I realized that in order to enjoy a slower, simpler way of life with my son I need to be able to relax. I have to find moments of calm and appreciate stillness. If I want to teach my son it’s OK—and important— to have moments of doing nothing without guilt, then I have to believe it.

And that is really, really hard to do. I mean, if you’re me. Here’s some tips and techniques I’ve learned to combat the problem:

Breathe Deeply
Greb says that many of her young students have stress and anxiety for a lot of reasons—over-scheduled days, pressure to do well in school or in sports, and in some low-income families, a fear of whether there will be food at home on the weekends when they can’t rely on school lunches.

No matter the magnitude of their stress, Greb says that simply breathing differently calms them down—and can help any parent or child find a slower path.

Controlling your breath “gives you a sense of control,” she says. Her students “learn to use their breath to calm themselves, and it’s very empowering for them to know they can control their bodies.”

Breathing slowly also kind of forces a sense of quiet and stillness, which might be the push you need if being quiet and motionless feels unnatural to you. If you have a hard time with it, measure it: try slowly tapping your fingers 3 times while taking a breath.

“Stillness is really hard,” Greb admits. “A lot of that goes back to breathing. Some of it is getting over the guilt of just enjoying the stillness, and that’s really hard for some people.”

Quiet Your Mind, Even For Just 30 Seconds.
Delene Porter consciously makes room in her life to meditate—something that, an outside observer might remark, looks like doing nothing.

But by quieting herself and feeling fully aware of the present moment, Porter has learned that there’s a lot of value in the times she previously discarded and called “empty or nothing.”  “It turns out a lot was going on in those moments,” she says.

A couple of years ago, Porter—a faculty member of the University of Georgia’s Fanning Institute, the president and CEO of the Athens Area Community Foundation, and a leader in community anti-poverty initiatives—found herself spending Sunday nights stressing about what the work week would bring.

So, she began taking a class on “Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction,” a secular style of meditation developed by Jon Kabat-Zinn, Professor of Medicine Emeritus at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. (He also co-wrote Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting with his wife, Myla Kabat-Zinn, whose father, Howard Zinn, wrote one of the most important (and depressing) books I have ever read.

Porter became a quick fan of the body scan technique, which focuses on relaxing every part of the body—from every single toe up to the head.

Soon, she was able to become mindful of her breathing and “watching” her thoughts in a detached way. She found that she slept better, felt both more energetic and calm, became more observant, and could handle stressful situations with less unhappiness.

“The secret is, meditation doesn’t take the bad feelings or the stress away, but there’s something about the process that creates space between the ‘observer-you’ and the things happening around you,” says Porter. “It creates a buffer and puts everything in perspective. It’s like the old adage: The obstacles don’t get in the way of the path; the obstacles are the path.”

While she enjoys meditating alone for 30 minutes in the morning—or for much longer periods with a local Zen group—she emphasizes that this practice is also for on-the-go moments in everyday life.

“The mindfulness techniques are totally meant to be used when you’re on the run,” she says. “It doesn’t matter how long you spend meditating. The practice is getting into the present moment. Even if it’s 30 seconds in the shower and you’re really aware of the water on your head and your feet on the mat, that’s all you need. That’s the door in.”

If it’s not really important, drop it. Somehow, I thought it was a good idea to try and knit 31 pumpkins, one for each day of October, in celebration of Halloween. A lot of people asked what I’d do with them. “Have them,” I’d say. I wrote about it on my knitting blog and got a few other people interested in joining the project from afar. And then, around pumpkin number 10, I stalled out. I couldn’t look at orange yarn anymore. I also stressed out that I was somehow letting people down by not knitting 21 more pumpkins. It was difficult to let myself off the hook (or needles) and knowingly fall short of a goal: and yet, once I did, I felt like I could actually enjoy life around me—like looking at actual pumpkins without feeling guilty because I wasn’t knitting one.

This example might seem a little silly, but figuring out what really matters is a good life lesson, right? Being selective about activities and classes and party invitations and electronic entertainment can be the difference between being overwhelmed and being sane.

Or, take some weird advice from my husband, Robert…

Me: Tell me the perfect day.

Robert: Go to the record store. Then I’d get a burrito. Then I’d lie on the floor and be very still and listen to records. Then maybe Tommy and I’d go to City Hall (note: Tommy, our son, loves City Hall).

Me: After you’ve already been downtown to the record store?

Robert: I don’t know! This isn’t in order!

Me: OK, what’s some advice on how to do less and enjoy it more?

Robert: Don’t do anything. Doing less is the easiest thing in the world. Here’s how to do less: if you have a choice between doing something and not doing it, don’t do it.

Me: But don’t you feel guilty if you’re not doing something?

Robert: Never. I have never felt guilty for not doing anything anytime in my life. Unless someone is drowning; then I’d feel guilty.

Tommy: What’s guilty?

Robert: Kids need to learn how to be bored! There are TVs in cars now, man! A kid can’t go to Kroger without watching SpongeBob. That’s nuts! Being bored is where the crazy ideas come from. If Edison had a TV in his car when he was a kid, we’d never have a light bulb. That doesn’t make any sense.

Me: Do you think that mothers are hardwired to feel guilty if they aren’t doing something? Or is it unfair to make it a gender thing?

Robert: Man, it’s not even just a gender thing. Doing nothing is really hard.

Me: You just said it was the easiest thing in the world!

Robert: And when you understand that mystery, you’ll understand how to do nothing.

Me: What?

Robert: The lesson has ended.

Me: That doesn’t make any sense.

Robert: Good journey.

Me: No really, that makes no sense.

Robert: Doesn’t it, Mary Jessica?

Me: No.

Robert: Doesn’t it?

Me: NO.

Robert: Everybody thinks that everybody has to do stuff all the time – oh, we have to do Touch a Truck Day, oh we have to go to the store…when do you just sit at home?

Me: We’re doing that now, is that fun?

Robert: Right now is rad! I’ve got my head on a cat!

In Robert’s defense, he has a head cold, which may or may not be affecting his logic. But I suppose it’s good to remember that yes, right now is pretty rad, and maybe I should just take a deep breath and enjoy this moment of radness.