05/31/2026
Mindfulness can sound like just one more unforgiving task on your self-care to-do list, one that doesn’t seem worth the effort. One of the trickiest parts of talking or writing about mindfulness practice is making it sound doable and something you’d actually want to do. Not just once, but regularly, in the midst of real life, with people who need you, deadlines creeping up on you, and distractions coming at you from every direction. It’s a tough sell.
The problem isn’t the practice itself but the ideas most of us hold about how it’s supposed to go. The role model we picture is a monk, or at least someone who resembles one, sitting in a serene place, eyes closed and mind quiet. That image’s appeal also creates unrealistic expectations: its simplicity, silence, and absence of daily realities. Although monasteries support transformation, if you don’t plan to live in one, trying to practice like a monk may actually get in your way.
What I find more useful — and more realistic — is the opposite: practicing like a secret agent.
A secret agent is embedded in the real world, surrounded by noise, juggling demands, and navigating interruptions, boredom, and other people—none of whom are aware of what she’s quietly working on. What the secret agent is actually doing is habitually making small, invisible shifts in her attention. Not removing herself from the scene, but choosing, on purpose, to pay closer attention to what’s already there while managing her composure from the inside.
That’s what my practice looks like from the outside. A person loading the dishwasher, picking up the grandkids from preschool, and running errands. Nothing unusual to see. Nothing special or dramatic that anyone around me would stop to notice. What’s invisible to anyone watching me live my life are the frequent shifts inside: from the internal stream of remembering, planning, evaluating, and problem-solving that fills an ordinary day to the direct experience of what I can see, hear, and feel in my body. When I make those shifts, there’s no audience to track them, because they’re unobservable to anyone but me.
I want people to know that this seemingly strange hobby is available to them, too—no need for a quiet mind, a perfectly comfortable body, or a sense of calm to feel like you’re doing something important. Cultivating mindful awareness means working with what you have, wherever you are, at any moment.
Follow the link for an attention exercise that invites you to make room for the thoughts and sensations that arise as you listen. It acknowledges the mind’s natural activity, making mindfulness more accessible and grounded in everyday life.
What happens when you stop treating thinking as a problem to solve?