The relationship I have with my mind and how it relates to the world is the main factor in my quality of life. My mind is creative, and that means it is always busy thinking about new projects and how to solve problems. These are the more positive aspects. The flip side is that whenever I feel challenged, I can have a tendency to ruminate and heavily focus on certain issues in the belief that thinking about them will bring a resolution.

I decided to train myself in mindfulness, simply because I know from experience that thinking about things without giving my mind breathing space is not the best technique to solve a problem. On the contrary, it is usually when I take time away from problems and shift my focus (on something else) that I naturally find the solutions I need. Below are simple and permissive ways to give my mind a break so that it then can work at its best. They are techniques to reconnect to the ‘here-and-now’ through looking, touching, listening, smelling and tasting.

Sight

Taking the time to truly look is an invitation to be anchored in reality. It’s an invitation to be open, curious and receptive. Nature offers many opportunities to look: I feel an infinite sense of comfort and connection when I admire the ordinary miracles of my surroundings, which directly contributes to feeling grounded, refreshed, content, peaceful, available and inspired.

I make sure there are plenty of beautiful things to look at in my living space: a profusion of indoor plants greets every corner so that wherever I am in the house, my eyes naturally gravitate towards these beautiful living friends. Looking at them, I connect to something outside of myself, plus I get to rest my eyes and mind too.

In the garden and wider world, opportunities abound for direct connection and powerful inner rest which is at once soothing and stimulating. By cultivating the habit to truly look, I support my system to be regulated, peaceful, alert, engaged and stimulated in a balanced way.

Touch

In my work as a maker and artist, I am blessed to use touch creatively for hours on end, from producing soothing paintings to creating throws with gorgeous wool, with all its many textures and richness. I am always reset by this textural, tactile activity, and I am fortunate that this work provides an endless opportunity to refresh and ground myself.

The sense of touch is also important when we rest: wrapping up in a warm blanket, relaxing while the sun kisses our skin or taking the time for a warm bath, we are offered a safe sanctuary of rest and repair through touch which is deeply soothing. For me there is also pure delight in letting rain land on my skin and hair. I can never get enough of those tiny kisses!

Other things that bring me great comfort and joy are soft, squishy moss. The delicate velvet formations beg to be enjoyed through touch and I can never resist them. In the woods, touching the bark and branches of trees, the tender, compact buds in spring, the diaphanous, soft leaves just unfolded, is a sure way to completely stop rumination in its tracks and reconnect to the present moment and the wonders surrounding us, nature quietly growing.

When I walk, I love to focus on my feet touching the ground. This is especially satisfying when walking in fluffy grass, on carpets of moss, warm sand or in cool, sparkly ocean waves. To literally ground ourselves in this way is a powerful way to be mindful, peaceful and alert, even if we are prone to rumination and worry. Like anything else, it might take a bit of practice to remember to be present and connect to where we are, but each precious second of it is worth a mountain of gold.

Hearing

A friend once told me something simple yet life-changing, "You cannot listen and think at the same time". This was such a blessing, overwhelmed as I was at the time with my own thoughts and feelings, confused about a situation, thinking I would gain clarity by trying to work things out through persistent, obsessive thinking. I decided to train myself to listen and immediately noticed a sense of openness and spaciousness when shifting my attention from thinking, to listening. Doing the dishes, taking a shower or a bath, I love listening to the familiar, gentle sound of the water. Really listening to music, allowing it to flow through me, is a divine experience.

Going outside, I mindfully listen to all the noises: the birds, the breeze, the rain—whatever is going on, I remind myself to notice it all and take the focus away from obsessive thinking. It can be hard on difficult days when the brain is less easy to direct, but again and again I redirect my listening attention outwards instead of inwards. The result is a much more open, calm and connected feeling, relaxing into the world and allowing it to soothe me. Really being outside and paying attention is one of the most effective things I can do to come back to centre and shift out of preoccupied, unproductive thinking.

Smell

Smell is a powerful sense, akin to time travelling: a variety of smells can bring us right back to a specific time and place with keen accuracy. I love a healthy dose of nostalgia, but I also notice that I can take it too far and use smell to romanticise the past in a way that becomes unhelpful. It's an interesting experiment for me to use the magical property of smell to remain centred in the present.

Some of the smells that do help me are fresh herbs such as mint, thyme, rosemary and sage, timelessly invigorating, bringing me right back to the present moment. Another one is lemon zest, which always seems to open up my world and bring a shining sense of contentment and luminosity in the moment. I never miss an opportunity to enjoy the earthy, rich and comforting smell of soil when gardening. It is the ultimate grounding experience, and as now widely known, a natural antidepressant. I deeply enjoy the smell of moss and tree bark, which I find reassuring, friendly and full of joy. These smells are powerful helpers in my commitment to being centred in openness and connection.

Taste

For most of my life, my relationship to food has been difficult, the opposite of mindful. It's beautiful to reflect on this journey and see that learning to relate mindfully to the sense of taste has been deeply healing. It has brought me peace, contentment, a sense of freedom, fun, and real friendship with myself. Over the years I gradually learned to slow down when I eat and really allow myself to enjoy the experience. I now use it as a moment of connection to myself and my environment.

What I like about developing mindfulness around food is that it involves all five senses: as we prepare the food, we can be mindful of how we touch it; the various shapes and textures are always a delight to enjoy. The sense of vision is also very present when preparing food, vegetables in particular are an endless joy to look at, the intricate patterns and shapes, their natural perfection, makes that time a real privilege.

As we start cooking food, the sense of smell will anchor us to this most sacred of activities and prepare our digestive system to receive that gift. We listen to the familiar and reassuring sounds of preparing and cooking, which stimulate our appetite. While we eat, we can consciously decide to slow down and focus on the experience, so many sensations can flood the mind and body as the delicious tastes, textures and colours become one with us. Eating that way is an incredible experience, and we can choose the opportunity to enjoy it daily.

Daily mindful

Practising the above daily, I have found that cultivating mindfulness through the five senses brings a genuine sense of poise, joy and contentment throughout my everyday life, as well as a better ability to solve problem and be resilient. We don’t have to add anything to our activities in order to benefit from mindfulness: bringing it to what we already do each day is a beautiful way to expand our lives while getting everything done in a more present, relaxed way that can significantly reduce stress, overwhelm and feelings of disconnection.

Words: Gaelle Chassery

Gaelle Chassery is a French artist, writer and maker living on the West Coast of Scotland, where she champions Scottish wool through improvising one-off luxury heirloom throws, and paints soothing landscapes inspired by the wonders of nature. She likes to write about creativity, quality of life and finding little pockets of joy and peace in the everyday.