There's a difference between a dispersed mind and one filled with presence and vitality. You don't need to sit in meditation to know that. I'm sure you've had the experience of wandering off in a daydream and at some point saying, “Oh. Where was I?” You might then realign with what you'd previously been doing: “Right. I just have to send this last email then I can leave to meet Jen.”
This is a lot like what we do in meditation. Having decided to consciously work with the present moment and to cultivate helpful habits of mind, we notice our dispersion and gently return to the chosen object of meditation.
The idea of gently returning to the moment is easy to overlook. In fact, it's not uncommon to use meditation to reinforce habitual self-aggression: “What's wrong with you? You're supposed to be meditating, but you're distracted again. You suck at this.” Of course, we don't consciously decide to criticize ourself. Rather, something triggers a nagging script to start running in the mind, and there we are.
One way to practice replacing criticism with gentleness is to celebrate whenever we find our way back to the moment. For me, simply saying “welcome home” to myself can be so uplifting and supportive. This is the beginning of a new habit—something I can decide to do—and it usually makes me smile.
Much of the work of meditation is to again and again establish this precious moment as a home. The present is where life is really happening, right? So when I gently reconnect with this moment, I'm coming back to a home base that's real, a place of refuge in myself that grows more and more familiar and safe with each conscious breath.
If I'm feeling brave I can add another phrase: “I love you.” That's right. I'm telling myself that I love myself. Granted, it's not always easy to whisper sweet nothings to myself, especially when self-criticism is pinballing around my head or when the cynical part of me is calling it sappy. But the intention to draw out a loving presence in myself and in the world is way deeper than anything my inner critic or inner cynic has to say. Love is a part of my practice—maybe the entirety of it.
“Welcome home. I love you.” can be used as an intermittent reminder of the intention to be present and loving, but it can also be the basis of a whole practice session. In formal sitting meditation, you might try breathing in, “welcome home” and breathing out, “I love you.” You can do the same thing during the course of a day. What would it be like to carry these phrases around for an afternoon, syncing them with your breathing as you walked around doing errands?
Our experience of the present moment is our home, perhaps more than any other. Let's learn to make it a comfortable, loving place to dwell by regularly welcoming ourselves back with open and gentle arms.