Mindfulness In Plain English Novels & Stories

“You’re slipping, I can feel it. Your mind is not in the right place for this next lesson.” I gasped and sprang to my feet, “Marla, no! I am. I was just…I’m sorry. I didn’t understand what you were saying and my mind wandered off.” She regarded me impassively, “You were not supposed to understand anything, not yet. Which was why I asked you to meditate.” She replied, “Your mind needs to be at complete rest before we can move on. You have seen the energy you can produce, but now, the most important thing of all. Balance.”

His voice was steady, but something in it felt fragile, like glassware being handled by someone who didn’t understand how easily it could crack. A shiver slid down my spine. Not fear. Recognition. We were both cut loose now. “Well,” I said, swallowing a lump of guilt that tasted suspiciously like responsibility, “that’s… good. That’s what I wanted. Independence. For both of us.” Michael tilted his head, the movement too precise to be human but close enough to mimic empathy. “Independence is statistically associated with increased stress. Would you like me to synthesize a mindfulness routine?” “No,” I groaned. “God, no. Absolutely not.”

“Anything that might work. I’ll go get changed.” Twenty minutes later, we reached the stream and got settled. I wasn’t exactly a meditation expert, but I’d read enough about breathing exercises and mindfulness that I figured I could guide her through it. “Okay, same as before. Close your eyes. Deep breath, three seconds in, three seconds out.”

I was all messed up. 'Ms. Brown!' He screamed and broke my meditation. 'Are you even listening?' He said further. I looked up and he was looking at me. 'You may leave now, and please try not to come in front of me all day as much as possible. I don't want to ruin my mood again and again.' He said and took the phone and went outside. I, not knowing what to do just went outside and sat on my table just in front of Mr. Niall's cabin on which my nameplate was already kept.

It's about turning the mindless chore into something greater: a mindful moving meditation with the least simulation possible. Here how it works, we will sit still with our thoughts in silence for hours and hours while listening to nothing but the steady sound of the churning paddle and cream, as it slowly turns into butter and buttermilk. While doing so, we have to pay attention to our breath. Acknowledging every breath with gratitude and grace. And that's it, with a bit of luck and blessing from God, according to the sisters, we will hopefully notice an increased level of relaxation and inner peace. That’s why it’s a perfect work for the broken and battered ones.

She read the prompts from the book, keeping her tone low and soft to not disrupt our mediation process. “Imagine you are at the beach. Imagine what you can feel. What you can hear. What you can smell. Can you feel the soft and warm sand under your bare toes? Can you smell the salt from the ocean and hear the waves coming to shore? Can you feel the light breeze and the warmth of the sun? Can you hear the seagulls around the beach? Imagine that you’re safe and nobody can hurt you where you are. Nobody is in danger, and nothing can touch you. Imagine your thoughts are like clouds and you see them drifting in and out of your view of the sky. Allow these thoughts to come naturally and watch them

She closed her eyes and focused on her breath, letting go of any lingering thoughts or worries and simply being in the here and now. As she opened her eyes, Hazel felt a sense of clarity and peace wash over her. The practice of meditation helped her center her mind and find balance amidst the chaos of daily life, allowing her to approach the day with a sense of calm and purpose. Feeling refreshed and energized, Hazel returned home to prepare a nourishing breakfast. She whipped up a batch of fluffy pancakes topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup, savoring each bite as she enjoyed her meal in the cozy comfort of her kitchen.

I stammered, confused. "It’s about noticing them without getting carried away by them," he explained. "The harder you try to stop thinking, the louder your thoughts become." "So what am I supposed to do?" I asked, frustrated. "Nothing," he said simply. "Just notice. Imagine your thoughts like clouds passing through the sky. You don’t have to chase them or judge them—just let them drift by. Eventually, you’ll start to notice the space between them." I nodded slowly. "That actually… makes sense."

Ilyana exhaled softly, a plume of white mist drifting from her lips. She cast a quick glance toward the far end of the frozen corridor, then flicked her long ponytail and headed for the cafeteria. She did not make it far. After a little more than 100 steps, she slipped into a recess along the ice tunnel and vanished from sight. With her back pressed to the wall, Ilyana closed her eyes and eased herself into meditation. Meditation was not mystical. With proper training, even ordinary people could learn it. It calmed the mind, stripped away distraction, and drew awareness inward.

Amanda's POV Peace of mind looked different when you’ve lived inside fear for too long. It isn’t laughter spilling over itself or big moments that beg to be remembered. Peace of mond is small. It is waking up and realizing your chest doesn’t feel tight. It is breathing in and not counting the seconds before something bad happens.