Two Simple Tasks, Not So Easy

Dr. Hole instructed me to choose two everyday tasks that I typically do without much thought—things like brushing my teeth, driving, showering, or eating—and practice doing them mindfully. He explained that the practice was to focus on the task at hand and notice when my mind wandered. When it did, I was to return my attention to the task. I would stick with these same two tasks for the entire week. It sounded simple enough, and I was eager to begin.

I chose brushing my teeth and driving.

That evening, I approached the sink, ready to brush my teeth with full awareness. I looked at my toothbrush, noticing its color and the shape of its bristles. Before applying the toothpaste, I wondered whether it was time to replace my brush. My mind had already wandered. Yikes! I was shocked at how quickly it happened. Realizing I had lost awareness, I brought my focus back to brushing. This time, I paid attention to the sensation of the bristles against my teeth and gums. It felt soothing as I moved the brush in slow, deliberate circles.

Then, another thought grabbed my attention. I was brushing in a circular motion, just as I had been taught as a child. And just like that, my attention drifted again.

I wasn’t sure I had maintained awareness for over three seconds before getting distracted. This was harder than I had expected. My mind felt so easily pulled away. When I caught myself lost in thought, I redirected my focus again, this time to the sound of the brush moving across my teeth. I listened to the sounds, playing around with how the brush sounded with my mouth open compared to my closed mouth. Soon, my mind wandered to the other sounds around me; the hum of the house, distant traffic, and imagined noises outside. Once again, I noticed and returned my attention to brushing.

I shifted my focus to the taste of the toothpaste. At first, the mintiness felt sharp on my tongue. I stayed with the sensation for a few seconds before rinsing with cold water. As I spit, I noticed the refreshed feeling in my mouth, followed by a sudden, sharp pain in my right rear molar. Ouch. My thoughts immediately spiraled: Do I have a cavity? Will I need to go to the dentist? What if I need a filling? Ugh, the novocaine needle…

Before I knew it, I had rinsed the sink and put my toothbrush away, completely on autopilot. I froze, toothbrush still in hand, realizing how effortlessly my mind had taken over. It was frustrating to see how difficult it was to stay present, even during such a simple task. But instead of feeling defeated, I reminded myself why I was doing this. I made a commitment, and I was going to keep it.

Driving was even more challenging. My commute to work was 22 miles, and while I started off mindful, I suddenly realized that several miles had passed without my paying attention to driving. Each time I caught myself drifting, I noted where my mind had wandered. Sometimes, I thought about coworkers I’d see that day; other times, my thoughts jumped to an upcoming trip or what I might cook for dinner.

Because driving was a longer task, I noticed my mind would wander for extended periods before I realized it. I knew I needed a strategy to help me stay present. I set an intention: at every stop sign and red light, I would check in with myself—where had my mind gone? Then, I’d gently return my focus to the present moment. This simple cue made a huge difference. Each time I brought myself back, I found I could stay aware a little longer.

As I continued practicing throughout the week, I noticed a few things. First, my mind wandered a lot! However, I also noticed that the time between getting distracted and returning to the task began to shorten with regular practice. The key, I realized, was intention. When I consciously set an intention before beginning, I was far more successful in noticing when my mind strayed.

You might be wondering what the point of this practice is. When we are not focused on what is happening in the present, we often miss important details, like the beauty of a sunrise, or a look from a loved one, or even the sensation of a toothbrush’s bristles.

Don’t just take my word for it; try noticing your own thoughts. Have you ever driven to work, only to arrive and wonder how you got there because you don’t remember the ride? This happens because, although your eyes were focused on the road, your mind wasn’t. 

More often than not, instead of being present, your mind replays past events or runs through endless "what ifs" about the future. These thoughts and the stories we create around them can trigger strong emotions, sometimes over things that may never happen. This leads to stress, since about 95% of our stress comes from being mentally stuck in the past or worrying about the future. (The other 5% relates to things we have no control over or haven’t planned for.) 

For example, if you spend your morning commute rehearsing a conversation you are going to have with your boss, then the nature of those thoughts dictates the state in which you arrive. More importantly, your rehearsal clogs your mind with fixed ideas and rehearsed responses, most of which probably won’t play out the way you imagined. Rehearsing ahead of time fills you with expectations and assumptions, takes you out of the present moment, and makes you ill-prepared for the actual conversation. 

[Maria-so, when should you rehearse that conversation? Sometime when you’re not doing anything else?] Stay tuned; I’ll cover that in a future post.

Practicing mindfulness by consciously noticing where our attention lies can gently guide us back to the present, helping us break free from this cycle. The more frequently we return to the present moment, the less time we spend caught in stress. More importantly, we enjoy more genuine moments of our lives instead of merely existing in our minds.