Hula Hooping and Mindfulness

What is mindfulness? What does it feel like? How do you do it? And why?

I’d heard about mindfulness, but had not had the experience. I didn’t know what it felt like. Reality was so painful I consistently dissociated from my body and the present. Having nothing to compare it to I wasn’t even aware of this. It was as though my life and myself were a dilapidated, scary, dangerous house, and every time I got close to going into that house, it felt so awful I couldn’t bear it. Mindfulness meditation was the antithesis of peace for me. Trying it was exposing myself to a reality I was doing everything I could to escape.

I was not consciously aware of this. I felt I was searching for something that felt good, that would last, that I would keep coming back to, whose magic would not fade or run out. I wanted to feel better.

Hula hooping made me feel better. Not only that, but it gave me the experience of mindfulness independent of a need for faith or belief—secular, flexible, warm, inviting, and not requiring anything of me but to show up and pick up the hoop. It made mindfulness fun. It made being present and aware enjoyable.

It turned out the trick to inviting myself back into a burglarized, vandalized, falling-down house meant making a place that was inviting, irresistible, enjoyable. Inviting myself back into my body meant creating a space where it felt good to be in my body, rather than being hit with total retraumatizing awareness. Inviting myself back into the present meant making a moment where it felt good to be.

I imagine you can relate to being in a situation, or a time in your life, where awareness of what’s really going on is painful and it doesn’t seem like there’s any way to change it. As a protective measure we may become mindless, use various defense mechanisms to escape, deny, or numb to reality. Denial. Obsessing over the past or the future. Compulsive or addictive behaviors or relationships. Constantly seeking stimulation.

Without awareness it can be difficult to address painful situations effectively, through radical acceptance or change or both. Mindfulness is a powerful tool, but what if you have a life or situation where being aware and present is intolerable?

Mindfulness doesn’t have to be a chore. In fact, if I wanted to positively reinforce the practice and build the skills to the point where I could begin to practice them even when it was difficult and painful, it had to be fun.

I hooped and kept hooping because I enjoyed it. The more present and aware I became, the more I found I could do. Having a ‘flow’ practice one enjoys like this, whether it be anything from artistic expression to washing dishes, makes mindfulness rewarding to practice. The more you practice, the better you will get at it. Whatever you feed will grow.

When I started learning the mindfulness-based skills of Dialectical Behavioral Therapy was when I realized how much I already knew. A lot of skills used in DBT are ones I first learned in the hoop. Gently returning my attention to my focus was necessary to keep trying after the frustration of dropping the hoop. Focusing on my goal of feeling better kept me persevering even when sometimes I wasn’t quite there. Being one-mindful kept me from distractions that tripped me up. In hooping I could accumulate positives, build mastery, and radically accept reality.

Learning these things didn’t have to be arduous. There were so many tangible rewards to practicing these skills in doing something I loved that I didn’t have to convince myself to use the skills. That for me has been the real trick to learning—positively reinforcing through rewards and enjoyment along the way, rather than hoping that in the end the payoff will be enough. Rewards are a mindfulness skill, too. Making the learning itself fun encourages me to keep doing it.

Do what you love, and your mind will follow.