Written By - Sumita Sarkkar

The first time I read about mindfulness, I was intrigued by the way it was being discussed. Being in the moment. Being present. Living in the now. Observing silence. Paying attention to the here and now.

These words appeared on mobile screens, in articles, in motivational talks and in advertisements for wellness programmes. People were talking about mindfulness, explaining its benefits, conducting workshops and even designing entire courses around it.

But wait, I had heard all this before. Not in a book on mindfulness. Not at a wellness retreat or in a masterclass. I had heard it from my parents, years ago, when nobody around me was using the word mindfulness to describe it. 

Why, weren’t these words also uttered by the parents of our friends and neighbours? And our teachers! They had to gently remind us or sometimes even scold us for not being “mindful.”

I could almost hear these familiar instructions -

“Concentrate on what you are doing.”

“Pay attention to your studies. Do your homework properly.”

“Whatever you do, do it with your whole mind.”

“Don't keep thinking about what has already happened. Go thoughtless for a while”

“Don't jump to conclusions. Don't react immediately.”

“Sit quietly for a while. Pray. Chant. Focus on your breath.”

As a child, I had accepted these as ordinary instructions from parents. But these gradually, knowingly or unknowingly, became life lessons and a technique for mental well-being. So, when I read about mindfulness, their words came back to me. They resonated so strongly that I immediately made the connection.

What we were now being encouraged to learn, practise and sometimes pay for was, in many ways, something we had already been taught at home. Think about the simple instruction to concentrate on the task at hand - When you are studying, study. When you are eating, eat. When somebody is speaking to you, listen. Do not let your mind wander in ten different directions while your attention is supposedly somewhere else.

Isn't that, in essence, what being present is about? Our parents may not have explained the psychology of attention. They simply asked us to focus on what we were doing.

Similarly, the advice not to react in anger, not to draw conclusions too quickly and not to dwell endlessly on something that had already happened had its own wisdom. It encouraged us to pause, think and respond with a little more awareness.

And then there was silence. For many of us, prayer and chanting were part of everyday life. We may have followed these practices out of faith, habit or simply because our elders asked us to. We did not necessarily analyse what they did for our minds.

Of course, mindfulness is not exactly the same as prayer, chanting or following parental instructions. It is a more specific practice of noticing the present moment, including our thoughts and emotions, without immediately judging or reacting to them.

Nor does it mean suppressing thoughts or pretending that the past does not matter. But the resemblance is difficult to ignore. The basic idea of bringing our attention back to the present was not entirely unfamiliar to us.

So, when did we forget? Maybe, when ordinary wisdom acquired a new name. We just did not have a fashionable word for it.

Perhaps the reason mindfulness has become so popular is that our lives have changed considerably. We live in a world that demands our attention every waking minute. Even a few moments of waiting can make us reach for our phones. 

We have become accustomed to doing several things at once, some quite unnecessary. When one task is finished, our minds are already racing towards another. We are physically present in one place but mentally somewhere else.

The past follows us through regrets and old grievances. The future occupies us with plans, expectations and worries. Meanwhile, the present moment slips by, often without our noticing it. We are constantly occupied, but being occupied is not the same as being attentive. We may fill every minute of the day and still feel that something is missing.

We have become so used to noise, speed and distraction that sitting quietly with ourselves now feels like a skill that needs to be learnt. And perhaps this is where mindfulness found its opportunity.

There is nothing wrong with people teaching mindfulness. A good teacher can help someone understand the practice, develop discipline and deal more thoughtfully with stress. Structured programmes can be useful, especially for people who have never been introduced to meditation or other methods of paying attention to their inner lives.

My concern is with the way a simple human need has become a marketable commodity. The wellness industry has recognised our collective exhaustion and our longing for peace. Hence, mindfulness is now packaged into courses, workshops, retreats, apps and premium programmes. There are experts to explain it and trainers to teach it.

What was once conveyed through an everyday instruction has acquired a vocabulary, a brand and, often, a price tag. We are told how to be present, how to breathe, how to sit in silence and how to observe our thoughts. We are encouraged to enrol in courses to learn what it means to live in the now.

And I cannot help wondering: have we made something unnecessarily complicated?

The irony is hard to miss. We are so busy looking for peace that the search itself becomes another activity to squeeze into our schedules. We watch videos about slowing down, sign up for programmes to reduce stress and add mindfulness to our already crowded to-do lists. In trying to find a little calm, we have found one more thing to keep us occupied.

The billion-dollar wellness industry did not create our need for stillness. It recognised that need and found a way to commercialise it. The practice may be valuable, but the packaging sometimes makes it appear as though peace is a specialised product that must be purchased and learned from an expert.

And that is what makes me pause and reflect -

Perhaps we have become so accustomed to looking outside ourselves for answers that we no longer recognise the wisdom in ordinary life.

We often dismiss parental advice as old-fashioned. We grow up, move into a faster world and begin searching for new ways to cope with its demands. When the same advice returns under a modern name, backed by research, professional terminology and carefully designed programmes, we are suddenly willing to pay attention. Ironical, isn’t it?

Something our parents told us in a few simple words may not have seemed particularly valuable at the time. But when the same idea is presented in a book, a podcast or a course, we are more inclined to consider it profound.

But we should be able to appreciate modern knowledge without dismissing what came before it. We can learn from a mindfulness instructor and still remember our parents' advice.

We can use a meditation app without believing that we cannot find a few moments of quiet without one. We can attend a workshop and still understand that paying attention to what we are doing is a practice available to us every day.

I am not suggesting that everyone should abandon mindfulness courses or that sitting quietly for a few minutes is the answer to every problem. Life is complicated, and some people genuinely benefit from guidance and structured support. But perhaps we can begin with the basics before assuming that we need something elaborate.

When you eat, try eating without looking at your phone. When someone speaks to you, listen without planning your reply. When you are doing a task, give it your attention instead of constantly switching between things. When you feel angry, pause before responding. And if prayer, chanting, meditating or sitting quietly brings you peace, make a little room for it in your day.

These small acts may not sound impressive, and they certainly do not require a masterclass to get started. The challenge, however, is to practise paying attention in a world that constantly pulls our attention elsewhere.

That takes effort, patience and repetition. Knowing something and actually living by it are two different things. The real learning lies in putting what we already know into practice.

When I first encountered the growing conversation around mindfulness, my immediate reaction was not that it was unnecessary. It was recognition. I remembered my parents' words and wondered how something so familiar had become something we now needed to rediscover. That thought has stayed with me.

Maybe the world has changed so much that we genuinely need new ways to understand ourselves. Maybe mindfulness courses help people who would otherwise never make time for their mental well-being. There is room for all of that. But I also believe we should question the tendency to turn every basic human need into a product and every simple practice into an expert-led programme.

We do not need to reject what is new. We only need to remember what is old. The next time the words be present appear on your mobile screen, think about what they really mean. You may remember a parent telling you to pay attention, to stop worrying unnecessarily, to sit quietly or to do one thing properly before moving on to the next. Perhaps those words deserve another look.

After all, mindfulness may be a modern term for a practice that has existed in different forms for generations. The language may have changed, the courses may have multiplied, and the business around it may have grown enormously. But the simple act of paying attention to the life unfolding in front of us remains much the same.

And perhaps, before we pay someone to teach us how to be present, we could take a moment to remember who first tried to teach us. Now, go back to your childhood. Remember the time when your parents said –

Just focus on the work you are doing. Concentrate on your studies/homework. Do it with completely with your mind. Pay attention. Bury the past. Don’t jump into conclusions. Don’t react. Don’t think much. Just be quiet. Pray. Chant. Control your breath (whenever you were panting or anxious) and focus on it. 

We have been so busy with the world that’s constantly on the move that we forget our parents’ words. Paying attention to what you are doing is the basic foundation of the mindfulness people talk about today. 

Do you, now, hear your parents’ or some elderly person’s words ringing in your ears?

(The author is a seasoned journalist, life coach, into alternate healing therapies, nutritionist, fitness and adventure sports enthusiast, and long-distance runner)