12 ways to practise mindfulness while shopping
Trying to become more mindful? Don't forget to take your new-found ideology out to the shops with you today...
New book – new me!
Today you are on a shopping trip. But not any old shopping trip, oh no. Today, you are fresh off the clean, green, meditative pastures of Mindfulness: a practical guide to finding peace in a frantic world and you’re going to apply the book’s take-home lessons to a retail therapy session on Oxford Street. You are going to be present. You’re going to be aware of your surroundings and feelings from moment-to-moment. You’re going to be the sort of calm person who eats slowly, breathes deeply, owns a fair few kaftans and makes no apology for it.
You are made aware of a sale in Topshop
Consciously sensing your environment, you take notice of a sale sign in the Topshop window and decide to move towards it, in an act of recognition. Within ten minutes, you are armed with more clothes than those that are allowed in the maximum-of-eight-garments changing room restrictions. You’re really throwing yourself into mindfulness with the same sort of ardent gusto as Julia Roberts’s character in Eat Pray Love.
Raisin Awareness
After trying on twelve different attempts at sports luxe, you think you’ve finally nailed it with a pair of satin jogging bottoms and a gold hoodie. Unsure of whether to purchase both items or just the one, you decide to employ a technique for mindfulness that you read about online called “the raisin practice”. This is the act of using all your senses to engage and notice an object, typically practiced on a raisin. You close your eyes and hold the shiny separates in your hand, then rub the luxurious fabrics against your face and pass it by your nose to get a whiff. You decide your senses are telling you that it’s important to buy both.
“HELLO, CAN I INTEREST YOU IN SIGNING UP TO A BEST FRIEND MAKE-OVER AND STUDIO PHOTO SHOOT TODAY??”
Walking past the heaving crowds outside Foot Locker, you gaze at the people who surround you and smile serenely at each of them as you recognize and observe their existence. There is a shouty man handing out brochures and you are curious to what he’s flogging, so approach him and find out more. Tempted by his hard sell, you decide to accept this sensation and not judge yourself for it. You relinquish to his persuasiveness and end up giving your card details for paintballing or a massage for you and 15 friends.
The unflattering outfit.
You arrive at the next shop and in a bid to find the perfect outfit for festival season, pick up an incredibly tight, lycra, adult babygro and take it to the changing rooms.
The Reluctant Sausage.
You’ve spent 15 minutes in the adult babygro and cannot find the right pose or hoist or fabric to make it look flattering. You begin to get a bit flustered and hot and so call on mindful deep breathing to pull you back into the moment. This proves a hard task and you realize it’s because the outfit is so small, it has bound your body in a sausage-like casing.
Accepting you may never be a size 8.
You come close to buying the unflattering romper, promising yourself to lose a stone by July but then have a change of heart at the till. You recall that mindfulness dictates you mustn’t obsess on the future or past. The future is just an imagining and the past does not exist. Now is what matters. And now, it doesn’t fit.
The £800 bag
On a mooch through Selfridges you end up in the leather goods department and fall in love with a piece of luggage. Living in the moment, you decide in a rush of emotions that emptying your overdraft to buy it is COMPLETELY the right thing to do.
Mindfulness v mindlessness
As you speak to the sales assistant about other colour options, you get a pang of guilt. I don’t think this is right. You think. I am not sure if buying this monogrammed overnight bag is mindful. Do I even have the money? Of course I don’t, I just signed up to that sodding, sodding zorbing day. Oh God, I am not meant to be thinking about what’s already happened. THE PAST IS THE PAST.
The second opinion
You go on your mindfulness app with guidance on remaining mindful, but unfortunately it has no answers on whether to buy the bag. You don’t know which feeling you’re meant to be observing – the one that’s telling you to buy it or the one that isn’t? You decide to come out of that app and go into your Natwest one instead. You realize you don’t have the money to pay for it and it won’t let you extend your overdraft on the phone, you have to do it in the bank. You can’t really be bothered.
The pat on the back
You decide not to buy the £800 bag and leave the leather goods department. You feel dead zen about this. This is very mindful of you. You take a moment to bask in your newfound wisdom and contemplate extending your overdraft anyway and buying a flight to Goa instead. You could be very present on those quiet beaches.
Accessories for a mindful life
On the way out of Selfridges, you stop to buy a nice sturdy pair of Birkenstocks to fit in with your new life. Even if not with your new sports luxe ensemble.