Being mindful (when it all goes south)

A few days ago I wrote a post on this forum about mindfulness and in particular how it featured in Ridley Scott’s movie The Martian starring Matt Damon as astronaut Mark Watney.
Writing from the comfort of my couch about the value of Watney’s ‘Do the math and solve one problem, then the next problem’ approach it all made tremendous sense and had a pleasing logic to it.
Then last night I encountered a problem: a pipe burst in my unoccupied bungalow in Ft William, two and a half hours away. The neighbours could not get in but told me they could see water leaking from several light fittings and could hear it gushing from somewhere in the loft.
The house is one week from completion of sale and given the imminence of this I let the insurance lapse a week ago.
All at once I became transfixed by images of collapsing ceilings, saturated carpets and massive repair bills not to mention the almost certain withdrawl of the buyers. It all seemed so big.
The I remembered Mark Watney .
His was a decidedly small picture approach and what appeared to be an unimaginable disaster with all sorts of terrible possibilities was in fact a series of much smaller problems which, if addressed and solved one after the other, would lead to success.
‘You just begin’
My first thought was to drop everything, leap into the car and drive straight there, hell for leather, not stopping for anything. But being mindful is a more considered approach, existing in the moment not angsting over the final outcome or implications.
‘Do the math’
Fort William is two and a half hours north of here, it was dark, the weather was foul and I had a long night of hard dirty work in front of me.
With this in mind I got my tools from the garage, my head torch and sleeping bag, some camping ready-meals, bottles of water the mop and bucket, work gloves and my coat and hat.
The thought of all that high pressure water coursing the down the walls and weighing down on the ceilings was excruciating. The worst of it was knowing it would be hours before I could do anything about it directly but focussing myself entirely on ensuring I left with everything I’d need kept the scale of the problem at bay.
Something else I could do was put together a skeleton plan. Coursing water and live electrics are a lethal combination so job number one would be to shut of the power.
Identifying the root cause of the problem would be job number two. That would involve finding the source of the leak before shutting off the water. Job number three would be shutting off the water. Job number four would be assessing the damage and job number five would be taking whatever steps necessary to prevent it getting any worse.
It felt like progress and while I was still unable to put hands on the problem I had formulated an action plan and was approaching it as fast as it was in power my to do. Phone calls to plumbers electricians and the estate agent could wait til morning when I had actual information to give them. That just left the journey.
If mindfulness is existing in the moment then I was glad not have company. Have someone else in the car would have meant endless speculation ‘It might not be that bad’ ‘It could be really bad’ ‘At times like this you’ve just got to laugh/ think positive/ there’s no use crying over spilt milk…’
None of it would have helped. Instead I stayed mindful on the journey, existing in the moment and focussing on driving safely, giving myself feedback on the dark twisting roads and practising situational awareness - something that has interested me for a long time and which I want to bring into my coaching practise. It was strangely soothing.
Having deliberately not dwealt on the possible state of the house I was able to assess it for what it was rather than compare it to any number of possible scenarios.
It was bad. All the carpets were saturated, water was leaking into the fuse box and from all the overhead light fittings, the loft insulation was also saturated and its weight was bearing down on the ceiling which mercifully was still intact. But I already knew exactly what to do and there was great comfort in following the plan I had come up with on the journey.
Gathering the sopping insulation rafter by rafter in the confines of the loft and carefully mopping out the spaces in between by the light of my head torch was hard but again there was pleasure in staying present in each small task, knowing that everything I did was contributing to the solution. Visualising a sort of mental status bar for each task really helped keep me away from problems I couldn't do anything about.
By 1 00 am the the dripping from the ceiling had stopped, the loft was cleared and the carpets hauled out into the garden. They were ruined but at least now the floors could start to dry out.
Job number six was getting in the car and heading home and this was an opportunity to embrace another core concept of mindfulness: Gratitude. Gratitude that no one had been hurt, that my neighbours had spotted the leak, that the ceilings had not collapsed, and that eventually I’d get to the end of this and it would all be ok.









