"Ahsta, ahsta!" Punjabi for "slowly, slowly!". Words my parents used to, and still, say to me. When I drop something because I've not quite quelled the habit of needless haste. When I forget there's a cup of tea by my feet as I practically sprint to attention and leap out of the moment to head and do whatever else. When I bump into something and hit my elbow, head, knee, because my wavering mind is half elsewhere.

"What's the rush?" They'll ask. What indeed. Is it some deep rooted nervous impulse? Is it a conditioned response to do more rather than be present, to anticipate what's coming next? An inability to settle, an inherited reactivity to anticipated threat? Who knows. To question why can be useful sometimes, I've been down that road, that's for another post. At other times, wondering can be an unhealthy distraction from finding resolve from the habits - in this case, haste and restlessness - that steal our attention and in the process, rob us of ease, happiness and self acceptance. The more helpful response involves doing less and pausing more, interrupting the momentum of thought which in turn - because our thoughts shape our behaviour - can decelerate our urge to react.

Old habits die hard, that's why it requires constant vigilance to adjust. I find it helpful to ask myself - is this helping or hindering, what can I do more/less of to find the balance in the between?

Because life is motion, without it, there would be stasis. We need some momentum. And we need to cultivate the ability to abide and experience the stillness too.

Simple in theory, harder in practice - which is why it’s a cultivated art form that takes persistence, patience, and yes, practice. Here’s how: become aware for just one day of the pace at which your mind and your behaviours move through the day. Notice your tendencies and with curiosity rather than judgement, observe what might be behind them. See and feel what it’s like to insert a pause before you react or rush. Ask yourself - do I really need to do this faster, what benefit will it bring, what harm might it cause, what difference will it make?

This, in effect, is mindfulness in action, an artful way of living that in my experience, can regulate the attention span, curb the sense of urgency and anxiety that modern life inculcates, and lessen the corrosive effect on the nervous system. It’s what BKS Iyengar calls reflective intelligence, a way of interrupting our mental programming and ensuring that our habits, our patterns and our thoughts serve us rather than destabilise us.