The mindful teacher

Photo by Steven Kamenar on Unsplash I've taken hundreds of walks through the woods near my home but yesterday was  different. About an hour in to my hike, I looked up and saw a tall young man with red hair coming at me. He reached up with one hand, as if he wanted to "high five" me. OK , I thought, and I reached up with my own hand to give it back to him.  Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, and started to pull me toward him. He began entwining his fingers in mine, tugging on me to come close to him. I couldn't read his facial expression, or what his intent was. Before I knew it, we were chest to chest, as he grabbed my other hand too. I felt confusion and concern kick in, but also the thought, stay present here . And I did.  I felt his shirt press against mine, and noticed the slight smell emanating from his chest. I was determined to stay in touch with what I was experiencing- a sudden and bizarre dance in the woods.  Within seconds, a smiling young woman with brow

When people introduce mindfulness, it's common to use a definition  credited to Jon Kabat-Zinn:  "Paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, and non-judgmentally."  But lately, I've been exploring the historical roots of the word Sati , which is the ancient Pali word  translated as mindfulness. Experts tell us  that the true definition of this term is more like "remembering", or "recollection."   T here seems to be an obvious and intimate connection between awareness and remembering. We probably won't remember  what we aren't aware of in the first place. And we often need to remember what we are doing, where we are, or what we're supposed to be paying attention to.  It could be argued that mindfulness  is the practice of remembering . We sit down, select an anchor, (like the breath or the whole body), and remember our anchor, over and over. The mind wanders off somewhere, there is a momen