Chapter 1: The Path to Mindfulness

James Gummer shares his personal journey towards mindfulness and the peace it brought him through the practice of meditation.

My supernatural abilities are mostly confined to guessing my lunch plans, though I sometimes miss that mark too.

I can't soar through the air. I can't hover. I can't tap into others' thoughts.

I'm far from achieving enlightenment.

When I embarked on my meditation journey, I held numerous expectations about what it entailed, the transformations it would invoke, and who I might evolve into.

I assumed that dedicating time on my cushion daily would guarantee my happiness. After all, meditation is supposed to bring joy, right?

Most of my preconceived notions turned out to be false, leaving me feeling like a failure for an extended period. I wasn’t joyful, nor was I devoid of stress or anxiety.

I felt like an imposter.

I was, indeed, sitting on my cushion—every single day!

I kept track of my sessions using a timer equipped with chimes, bells, and gongs, believing I was maintaining a robust and consistent practice.

It wasn't until I faced a series of everyday disappointments and heartaches that I truly understood what meditation is and what it isn't.

I discovered that the essence of practice lies in engaging with daily life—the mundane, the ordinary. This reflects the teachings of Buddha in real-world contexts.

It's not about herbal teas, incense, prayer beads, or decorative items.

It's not about yoga studios filled with people in trendy activewear.

It's not some hidden wisdom from a guru or a deity with an unpronounceable name.

It's the experience of loneliness, hunger, the ache in my leg, and the warmth of sunlight on my skin.

It's about heartbreak, emptiness, and the frustration of being stuck in traffic with a full bladder.

It's joyful memories that emerge amidst the sorrow of loss.

It's endings and beginnings.

It's the sorrow of saying goodbye to my dog.

It's the joy of adopting a puppy and observing his playful curiosity about the world.

It's taking walks with him through harsh winters and sweltering summers.

It's the fresh breath of spring.

The practice is about wishing well to an ex, despite the pain it may bring.

It's yearning for someone oblivious to my feelings.

It’s recognizing bad habits that need changing.

It’s adopting a new perspective.

It’s exchanging one limitation for another, only to realize I've been free all along.

It’s understanding pain and recognizing I'm not alone in my suffering.

It’s the fleeting nature of happiness, the swirling of joy, and the passing of misery.

It’s the entirety of life—joy, peace, existence, and eventual death.

It's regret.

It's committing to myself, sometimes faltering, and feeling the weight of that.

It's the discomfort of cheap socks pinching my toes.

It's the soothing sound of a mountain stream and the clinking ice in my glass.

It's the unexpected kindness from strangers.

It’s about being present, observing, getting distracted, and then refocusing.

It's the endless opportunity to begin anew.

In this sermon titled "Philippians: Practice Makes Perfect Peace," James Gummer explores the deep connection between meditation and achieving inner peace.

Chapter 2: Embracing Mindfulness Amidst Chaos

Join us for "Lunch and Learn: Practice Makes Peace – Finding Mindfulness in Stressful Times" where practical strategies for mindfulness are discussed.