By Jonathan Kaplan, Ph.D.

Author note:  I’m in the process of moving over the UM archives from our previous site to this new one.  Regrettably, because I switched platforms, this process is fairly labor intensive (i.e., lots of “cut and paste”).  While I’m keeping most of the posts true to their original publication date, occasionally I’ll repost one as current, like this one.  It was originally here on February 13, 2009, and it received a lot of attention.  It also appears in my Urban Mindfulness book, which will be released a little later this year.  Hope you like it (again).  JSK

Meditating on the subway is probably not ideal, but it sure beats playing Brick Breaker on your Blackberry, messing with your iPhone (or PSP), or skipping a meditation session altogether. It is safer (and easier) to meditate at home or as part of a meditation group, but sometimes we simply don’t have the time. So, here is a simple way to meditate “on the go.”

It is very important to maintain some level of awareness for your safety, however. So, please do not attempt this meditation if it’s crowded or if you notice someone around you who is drunk, acting erratically, or doing anything else that might seem threatening or unpredictable. You don’t want to have your bag or wallet stolen or miss some kind of approaching danger. And, meditation-wise, you can always try again later. So, if it seems unsafe or unwise to meditate for you to meditate on the subway, then don’t do it.

If it is safe, then here are the steps in meditating while standing. The meditation essentially is a version of a “body scan” in which you notice the sensations in your body relative to the movement of the train. In my next post, I’ll provide guidelines on how to meditate when you’re fortunate enough to have a seat.

• Check-in with your environment and people around you to make sure that it’s safe to practice now.
• Turn off your iPod or mp3 player. You might want to continue wearing the earphones however, in order to reduce the likelihood that someone will disturb you, however.
• Gather your belongings close to you in order to ensure that they will be secure during the meditation.
• Stand with your feet about shoulder width apart. Try to position your feet to be at a 45° angle to the centerline of the train, if possible. This will help you maintain balance as the train moves and stops. If necessary, hold onto a bar or railing.
• Roll your shoulders back and raise your chin up so that your head is level. Adopt a posture that embodies confidence and dignity.
• Lower your gaze to be looking at a window or a nondescript area next to someone seated. You could also look at your hand or arm if you’re holding onto part of the train. Do not look directly at another person. This is the city after all-you don’t want to be starting something! Also, it is helpful to keep your eyes open in order to be sensitive to any possible approaching danger.
• Mentally, rest your attention on the physical feelings in your body in the moving train. Pay particular attention to the sensations in your feet and legs. You might notice the way in which your muscles tense and release in order to help you maintain balance as the subway train accelerates and slows down. Become aware of the shift in your body as the train lurches forward or starts to brake. Maintain your awareness on your physical sensations for the duration of your trip.
• Whenever the train stops at a station, take a moment to check calmly and see if this is your stop. The stops, while disrupting your mindful awareness of your body, are like the sounds of a meditation bell, which invite you to refocus your attention.
• Exit when you reach your destination.
• Once you leave the train and move a safe distance away from the platform, take a moment to reflect on the activity and what you noticed. Proceed with your journey with mindful awareness and deliberate action.

Give this meditation a try and let me (and others) know what you think. Please post suggestions and share your experience in order to help guide us in this endeavor together.

Submitted by Jonathan Kaplan, Ph.D.

As of yesterday, the UM blog is now available on the Kindle! For those of you who enjoy the contributions of our bloggers, you can now read their posts on your Kindle, whether you’re at home or “out and about” in the city. The monthly subscription ($1.99) costs less than a latte, and the tips and reflections offered on our site will help you a lot more than a temporary caffeine buzz. Plus, it’s a way to help support our organization.

Please click here to explore downloading our blog for your Amazon e-reader:  UM on Kindle

If you’re not sure about ordering, you can try it free for 2 weeks, too.  Thanks for your continued reading and support.

What reflection have you found?

By Jonathan Kaplan, Ph.D.

The past few days have been quite rainy and blustery here in NYC.  Not wanting to get rain in my eyes, I found myself leaning forward and looking at the ground, while dodging pedestrians and their umbrellas.  As I watched what passed underfoot, I became more aware of what I could see down there.

Cracks in the pavement, and lots of black and white spots–remnants of chewing gum trampled by the masses–and, more interestingly, puddles.  Lots and lots of puddles.  Like any busy urbanite, most of my effort was focused on dodging them and making sure that I didn’t get splashed.  My behavior stands in stark contrast to what my young son does:  stop abruptly in front of each puddle and dramatically jump over it.  He grins enthusiastically whenever he clears a puddle.  And, if he doesn’t make it, his smile is even bigger, perhaps correlated with the giganitic splash he just made. 

Anyway, as I found myself looking at puddles, I started noticing the reflections in them.  Dark skyscrapers, white clouds, yellow taxi cabs, and red stoplights shimmered across the surface.  Interesting shadows darkened the waters, while streaks of light could be momentarily blinding.  It reminded me of impressionist art, especially the urban works of Gustave Caillebotte (such as Paris:  Rainy Day). 

So, as you’re walking around the city today (and on future rainy days), why not take a peek and see what beautiful paintings lie underfoot?  And, if the mood strikes you, jump over them!

By Irene Javors, LMHC

I confess. I am a person of limited patience. I go after things with vigor. When I am confronted by obstacles, I grit my teeth and push through or so I think. This winter has been one for the record books. Snow, more snow and yet more snow. The blistering cold, the piles of snow, the ice and those infernal winds force us to submit to the will of “mother nature” whether we want to or not. Like all other New Yorkers this winter, I have been snowed-in and snowed-out by the weather. For someone as impatient as I am, this has been a test in learning how to go with the flow, especially when you don’t want to.

I have cancelled clients, classes and social engagements. I have stayed indoors despite creeping cabin fever. In short, I have been forced by a power far greater than my ego-driven self to slow down and check out the scene.

And check it out I did! On the day of the most recent snow event, I decided to take a very long walk and see what I could see. Under several layers of clothing and wearing boots designed for the arctic tundra, I ventured forth into my Queens neighborhood. No cars were on the road. The snow covered streets were a pristine white. The trees were highlighted by small hanging icicles. But what was most spectacular was the quiet. No car horns or traffic, very few people, just the silence of snow crunching beneath my feet. I drudged onward for almost a mile. The more I walked, the calmer I became. This seemed rather paradoxical to me since a storm was raging all around me, yet I ( the eye) of the storm felt peaceful and centered.

I realized that I was experiencing something that I have been striving to feel during all my years of meditation on the pillow: the ability to be at peace in the center of chaos. This in vivo experience on this wintry Thursday afternoon had brought home to me the importance of paying attention to the teachings that are right there in everyday life.

The snow has helped me to slow down and hear the falling flakes. But I still don’t like the cold!

Submitted by Irene Javors, LMHC

“The unknown takes us out of our comfort zone.”

From What About The Big Stuff?, Richard Carlson, Ph.D. Hyperion, 2002, p.20.

Whatever change that either happens to us or we willingly undertake always has an element of fear. We love our habits of being. Even taking a shower at a different time of the day has the potential of upsetting our routinized life. Change wakes us up to living in the fullness of the moment. Staying mindful of how we enslave ourselves to old ways of being and doing is the challenge. Nothing stands still, no matter how we delude ourselves into thinking that we have the power to make it otherwise.

Submitted by Jonathan Kaplan, Ph.D.

Recently, I had an opportunity to watch this short, feel-good movie, Validation by Kurt Kuenne.  It made me consider just how different city life would be if we all treated each other like this.  The film is 17 minutes long, and it’s worth it.

Submitted by Jennifer Egert, Ph.D.

“Until one is committed there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffective concerning all acts of initiative (and creation). There is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and inspirations. That the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves also. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would come his way. Whatever you can dream, you can – begin it. Boldness has genius, power, magic in it. Begin it now”.

–Wolfgang Goethe

I have always loved this quote and revisited it recently in my continued efforts to build my mindfulness practice and get back on track with a regular morning sitting. In previous posts, I’ve written about the challenge of “falling off the mindfulness practice wagon” and trying to get back on. That has been a present struggle over the past couple of months, but it is starting to come together. Goethe knows what he is talking about (like I even needed to say that!). It seems like the indecision in and of itself is the major obstacle to practice. Once the decision is made, once one commits, all of the struggle and inner discussion drops away. The question is, how does one make the move to commit? How do we get to the point of decision?

These are questions relevant for a host of challenges, be it developing a sitting practice, starting an exercise program, eating healthfully, applying for a new job or school, (even cleaning the bathroom!) anything that one might try to avoid, takes effort or for which one has ambivalent feelings. But as Goethe councils, once we make the “decision to do” we can be presented with a host of supports and aids in our efforts.

So I am wondering UM readers, what is your experience with this? How do you move from indecision to decisions, from being uncommitted to committed? What magic has come to support you in your commitments? What help can we offer each other to transform Goethe’s words into action in our lives?

By Irene Javors, LMHC

There is is restaurant/ bar in my Jackson Heights neighborhood that has been around for some 60 years. Everyone knows the place. The food isn’t very good but the drinks are great and the bartender knows everyone by first name. When you walk into the place, you feel that you have entered a time warp and you are now in the 1950’s. The juke box plays Sinatra and Rosemary Clooney and noone has heard of Lady GaGa or The Black Eyed Peas. On the weekends, the two televisions are tuned onto whatever is the sport of the moment and everyone cheers or boo’s the team of choice.

I have spent many days sipping a glass of wine and watching tennis or football with the guys, just hanging out and shooting the breeze.

All of this will vanish after the airing of the Super Bowl on Sunday February 7. The landlord has raised the rent to an astronomical level and there is no way that the owners can pay. After over half a century, The Cavalier is closing due to gentrification. Four other stores and businesses are also closing on that block because of rising rents. These “mom and pop” venues are to be replaced with more “with it,” commercial ventures.

Long time residents are angry/sad and feeling helpless in the face of the changes that are taking place in their neighborhood. No one wants these businesses to go but a tsunami wave of change is happening without our consent. What makes all of this so difficult is that we don’t know what’s going to replace what is being taken away.

From a mindfulness perspective, the passing of The Cavalier is a lesson in impermanence. Nothing is forever and the sooner we learn this reality, the better equipped we are to rise to the challenges of living. This doesn’t mean that unwanted change feels good. It means that we learn to be mindful of the preciousness of each moment of our lives. We learn to take nothing for granted. My feelings are in conflict with my mindfulness practice- I cling to what is passing while knowing full well that life is change.

When I was a child and very upset, my mother who knew nothing about Buddhism or mindfulness would say, “this too will pass,” as a way to comfort me and direct my attention away from whatever it was that pained me. Indeed, in her intuitive wisdom, she simply stated a major truth, “everything passes.”

So, I salute The Cavalier. You have had 60 years of wonderful patrons and lots of love and laughs. Not a bad legacy!

By Jonathan Kaplan, Ph.D.

Rush hour, changing trains
Like salmon migrating home –
No spawning on stairs

Recently, the NYC subway system has gone from bad to worse. Trains are coming less often, and moving less quickly. With your mindfulness practice, perhaps you’ve noticed these changes, too?

As a result, crowds of passengers are getting more plentiful and overwhelming platforms and stairwells. During rush hour at Broadway-Nassau, people use every inch of the narrow staircase to descend from the Downtown 4/5 to the Brooklyn-bound A/C. When I saw one passenger trying valiantly to climb the stairs and change trains in the opposite direction, I was inspired to write this small poem.

Submitted by Jennifer Egert, Ph.D.

Watch your thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions.
Watch your actions, they become habits.
Watch your habits, they become your character.
Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.

Quote by unknown author

How often do our thoughts create our reality? You can see it in so many ways, whether it be pre-conceived notions of a social situation, an influence from a comment from a friend or colleague, or a mood that strikes early and unfolds as the day goes on. As this quote suggests, simply watching our inner lives can have consequences for the cascade of life experiences that follow.