It is said that you teach what you most need to learn. When I was a kid my stepfather refused to buy me a Walkman because he thought I was already off with the fairies all the time and didn’t need anything to further immerse me in my own world.

I know what unmindfulness looks like.

A few years later I was explaining to a podiatrist that I had weak ankles, which is why I kept spraining them.

“No,” he said. “Your head doesn’t know where your feet are.”

“No,” I replied. “I’ve got weak ankles.”

“Your head doesn’t know where your feet are.”

I haven’t sprained an ankle since.

So, I’m very capable of being unmindful, and I’ve also been able to learn at least enough mindfulness to avoid a little unnecessary pain.

Here’s the thing: a master of mindfulness is really only in a position to share their experience of being a master with you. I am no master. I can share the experience of attempting to master mindfulness with you.

And I’ve had plenty of that experience. I’ve been practicing mindfulness in earnest for most of the past 12 years, and I’m as passionate about it now as I’ve ever been. I love experiencing those glimpses of insight that come with constant practice; I love developing my awareness to a point where I now experience the world quite differently than I used to; I love catching myself time and again slipping back into unmindfulness, and finding newfound clarity through doing that.

Most importantly, I love sharing what I’ve learned with others, and (even more importantly) learning even more from them. Except for a fortunate few, the path to mindfulness is a lifelong journey. It’s much easier walking that path holding somebody’s hand than it is alone.

Come hold my hand for a while…