Interrupt Your Inner Critic
Just miles from my house in Northern California is a serene meditation center called Spirit Rock. It’s nestled in golden grassy hills away from the hustle and bustle—the perfect place to gather and ground oneself. Spirit Rock has welcomed many renowned mindfulness experts, and I’ve had the fortune of hearing wise words in many contemplative talks. After listening to these talks, when it was my time to meditate, I was restless. I’d try to focus for a few minutes, but I just couldn’t do it. Invariably, I’d slip outside and spend the remaining meditation time walking quietly around the grounds. I thought that, because of my ADHD, I was cheating. Failing. Meditation was not for me.
In a nutshell, if mindfulness is a state of being where
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