I guide mindfulness practices to my grandma. She is 93. Because she lives in Finland, I can't visit her as I used to when I lived there, but we call each other every week or two.
We chat about all kinds of things. Sometimes we go back into her youth. My grandma (‘mummu’ in Finnish) has had a life full of everything. Joys and sorrows, as all of us. I admire how she has not lost her warm outlook on life. Sometimes we talk about daily stuff, what is going on in my life, us grandchildren and her great-grandchildren and so on. She supports me following my own path, rejoices with me of good things and usually has something comforting to say when things are not going as I hope they would.
She is still curious about the world. Sometimes she says she wishes she could still learn a new language. She knows many and has travelled a lot. She regrets that many English words have now escaped her and that she’s almost forgotten all the Italian she used to know. She has plenty of interesting stories from throughout her life. We share similar interests, and we experience life in a similar way. I have had many conversations about life with her; her warm presence has always been there for me.
When we do a meditation exercise, she takes a seat on the corner of her sofa in her living room, her favourite spot. Listening through the phone, she closes her eyes, and I start speaking. I ask her to bring attention to the things just as they are and what she can notice. We often do a body scan type of meditation and follow the breath moving in and out. We practise only for 10 minutes or so, but she finds it very calming. She often says how mindfulness is so different from the things she, and her generation, were taught. Letting your thoughts and feelings be what they are, and observing them with friendliness, instead of attempting to solve, numb or get rid, can bring a whole new outlook. I want to share this story because I think my grandma’s openness and courage is worth writing about. What it clearly shows is that age does not matter. My grandma often says how mindfulness is so valuable to someone her age, who has much time in their hands and much, sometimes too much, to think about.
When I get tangled in my thoughts about whether I do things right, I’m reminded how my grandma does not think about that. She simply sits down and lets the guidance carry her. Of course, there are stubborn thoughts, and there are different challenges. A lot happens in a long life. She misses her friends, and she has trouble sleeping when worries keep her up. But in that moment when we sit together, albeit a phone line between us, we might as well be in the same room.
Maybe when we get older, we become more adaptable. Maybe we are more naturally content with things as they are. Maybe gratitude comes easier. I don’t know what’s around the corner. My grandma hasn’t known. And still, now, she is here looking back on the path she ended up walking. I wish you find trust in yourself on your path, even when the path becomes muddled. I wish you can connect with your inner being at this very moment, and that you see with clarity.
When I’m old, I wish that I can look back on my life, having embraced some of that same compassion and curiosity my grandma has, within myself. I have meditation practice to guide me; hers is completely self-acquired.