Tag: higher education

Why Slowness Is a Radical Act in Scholarship and Life

Posted on by Allan Johnson in Observations

As I near the end of my sabbatical—a season shaped by long writing days, quiet walks, and a study of mail-order esoteric courses in early twentieth-century America—I’ve been thinking a great deal about pace. Not productivity, not efficiency, but the rhythm of attention itself: how we move through our days, what we notice, and what we let notice us.

Over the past months, I’ve been immersed in the strange, fascinating world of early twentieth-century mail-order esoteric courses. The book I’ve been writing on this traces how these correspondence schools turned spiritual transformation into a kind of mediated intimacy, bringing occult wisdom into the homes of readers far from established centres of learning. It’s a history of aspiration and longing, but also of slowness. Students would wait weeks for lessons to arrive, copy out exercises by hand, and post back reflections to a distant mentor. Transformation was not instant. In that waiting, something profound happened: learning became devotional.

That realization has accompanied me through this autumn, which we celebrated with our small Samhain ritual—watching Hocus Pocus I & II by candlelight, gathering fallen leaves, and covering them with ink and pressing them onto paper to make monoprints. There was a childlike magic in it: the squelch of the sticky ink, the soft squeaky rolling of the brayer, the moment when the paper lifted to reveal the print. It struck me how close this is to scholarship at its best: slow, embodied, receptive. The act of noticing—whether in art, research, or life—cannot be rushed.

Our institutions, however, are built on speed. Academia, once imagined as a monastery of thought, now too often resembles an airport: loud, transactional, and defined by transit rather than presence. We are rewarded for throughput—papers, metrics, outputs—while the invisible labor of thinking, gestating, waiting is quietly devalued.

Philosopher Byung-Chul Han calls this “the burnout society”: a culture of hyperactivity that mistakes motion for meaning. Similarly, Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing (2019) reminds us that attention is not a private resource but an ecological one. How we attend to the world shapes the world itself, and to be slow is, in this sense, to resist.

Slowness allows the possibility of depth. When I teach, I often tell students that thinking is not something we do; it’s something we undergo. Insight arrives in its own time, not on schedule. When we move too fast, we interrupt the very process that might save us—from shallowness, from reactivity, from the illusion that our worth depends on our output.

This past year has been less about producing words and more about unlearning the compulsion to be constantly doing something. Writing about mail-order mysticism has only intensified that awareness. Students were told that true understanding could not be forced; each lesson would reveal itself “in due time.”

That phrase—in due time—has become a quiet mantra for me.

There were days this autumn when the words wouldn’t come, when the archival material felt stubbornly opaque. But I began to notice something else happening beneath the surface: a subtle attunement to pattern, rhythm, and resonance. I realised that my task wasn’t to force insight but to cultivate the conditions in which it might emerge.

The same principle lies at the heart of A Course in Miracles, which I’ll be exploring in my upcoming workshop, “Practical Miracles: Practicing the Course Beyond the Book” (Saturday, November 8th, 2–5pm GMT). In our fast-moving world, even spirituality can become hurried: one more thing to optimise, one more practice to master. But true practice, like true scholarship, begins with slowing down. It’s the decision to notice what’s really happening in the moment you’re already in.

During the workshop, we’ll work with simple, repeatable tools for applying this awareness in daily life: at work, in relationships, and especially in moments of frustration or overwhelm. If that sounds abstract, think again of the leaf print: the slowness of laying down ink, the patience of pressing, the surprise of revelation. That’s what a miracle is—a new image of reality emerging from the same material, seen through the quiet lens of love.

As I prepare to return from sabbatical to the rhythm of teaching and service, I’m reflecting on how to carry this slowness with me. I suspect the answer isn’t in withdrawing from the world but in moving through it differently: walking rather than rushing, listening rather than reacting, leaving unscheduled time for what Thomas Merton called “the hidden wholeness.”Slowness doesn’t mean stagnation. It means aligning with the tempo of reality itself, which, as nature reminds us, is cyclical, not linear. Leaves fall; the soil rests; then, without effort, new life begins. Our task is not to speed the process but to be faithful to it.

If we can do that—in writing, in teaching, in love—we might rediscover a form of productivity that isn’t extractive but regenerative. A scholarship that nourishes rather than depletes. A spirituality that unfolds rather than performs. This, to me, is what makes slowness radical: it reclaims our humanity. It reminds us that attention is sacred, that thought takes time, and that the most transformative acts are often the quietest ones.

If that resonates, I’d love you to join me for Practical Miracles: Practicing the Course Beyond the Book this Saturday. Together, we’ll explore how to live from a place of peace and guidance, even when life moves quickly. Because ultimately, the miracle isn’t found in escaping the world’s pace—it’s found in learning to move through it with grace.

You can learn more and register through the Living A Course in Miracles group on Meetup. And if you’re drawn to the work but cost is a barrier, please reach out. We’ll find a way.

Achieving Excellence: Mindfulness Practices for University Students

Posted on by Allan Johnson in meditation, mindfulness, wellbeing

There is a quiet pressure that seems to thrum beneath university life—a sense that the real work of being a student is not so much about learning as it is about managing. Managing time, expectations, inboxes. Managing stress, social roles, imposter syndrome. Managing the impression one makes in the seminar room and on the CV. Excellence, in this context, can become oddly performative: something students chase as an external metric rather than encounter as an inner standard. It is no wonder, then, that so many students, even the most capable, experience burnout not as a collapse but as a kind of numb competence—going through the motions, producing the work, but no longer inhabiting it.

And yet, excellence—true excellence—has nothing to do with perfectionism or panic. It is not about knowing everything, saying the right thing, or racking up accolades. It is about presence. It is about learning to meet one’s experience directly, without distortion or avoidance. It is about returning again and again to the task at hand with care and curiosity, even when it’s hard. And in this way, excellence is not a destination. It is a mode of attention.

This is where mindfulness comes in—not as a stress-relief gimmick or one more item to tick off the self-improvement list, but as a fundamental shift in how we relate to thought, time, and difficulty. For university students, mindfulness offers something quietly radical: a way to inhabit your education, rather than simply survive it. It invites you to move from fragmentation to coherence, from performance to engagement, from self-monitoring to self-trust.

The university experience, at its best, should be expansive. You enter not just to gain knowledge, but to test out ways of being in the world. The lectures and readings are only half the story; the other half takes place in libraries, conversations, late-night doubts, and the slow forming of a worldview. But in the current climate—of rising tuition, high-stakes assessment, and algorithmic distraction—the student experience often becomes narrowed. Every decision begins to feel consequential. Every moment becomes either productive or wasted.

Mindfulness gently interrupts this binary. It reminds us that time is not only something to manage, but something to inhabit. The difference between reading for understanding and reading to get through the chapter is not about how smart you are, but how present you are. The difference between a rushed essay and one that unfolds with clarity lies not only in effort, but in the quality of attention brought to the task. When we become aware of what we’re doing as we’re doing it, the act itself changes. It becomes less of a hurdle and more of a process.

This is why the most powerful mindfulness practice for students isn’t something exotic or time-consuming. It’s something deceptively simple: slowing down enough to notice your experience. Noticing when your mind begins to drift and gently bringing it back. Noticing when you’re caught in comparison and returning to the integrity of your own path. Noticing when the pressure to achieve is eclipsing the joy of learning.

These moments of noticing may seem small. But over time, they accumulate into a profound kind of self-knowledge—the kind that leads not only to academic success, but to a life that feels more whole.

Excellence is not intensity. It is sustainability. Too many students oscillate between overwork and collapse, driven by an internalised voice that equates value with output. But the most effective learners—and the most fulfilled ones—tend to have one trait in common: they know how to pace themselves. Not just externally, in terms of time management, but internally, in terms of emotional regulation.

Mindfulness helps create this pacing. It allows you to feel the early signs of overwhelm rather than bypassing them. It gives you a way to stay with difficulty without being undone by it. The anxious mind often wants to escape—into social media, into busywork, into catastrophic fantasising. The mindful mind, by contrast, learns to stay. To stay with the blank page. To stay with the challenging paragraph. To stay with the feeling of not knowing, long enough for real understanding to emerge.

This staying is a discipline. But it is also a relief. It frees you from the exhausting task of pretending to be more certain, more prepared, more “together” than you actually feel. It gives you permission to be in process—which, after all, is what studying is.

It’s worth naming here that mindfulness is not a magic bullet. It won’t remove deadlines or make the content easier. What it offers is a different relationship to the stress itself. Instead of fighting it, or fleeing from it, you begin to meet it. You notice how it manifests—in the body, in the breath, in the story you’re telling yourself. And that noticing creates space. You are no longer inside the stress. You are with it.

In that space, new options emerge. You realise you can take a single breath before opening your email. You can acknowledge a difficult emotion without letting it hijack your attention. You can move from a state of reactivity to one of intentionality. And that, ultimately, is where excellence lives—not in brilliance, but in clarity.

Practically speaking, there are a few small rituals that can help anchor mindfulness in the rhythm of student life. You might begin your study sessions with one minute of stillness—simply sitting, eyes closed, noticing the breath. You might end your day by writing down one thing you learned and one thing you handled with patience. You might decide to walk between classes without your phone, letting your mind settle rather than accumulate more input.

More subtly, you might start to pay attention to how you study—not just what you do, but how it feels. Are you tensing your shoulders as you type? Are you holding your breath when reading something difficult? Are you multitasking because you’re afraid to really begin? These micro-habits, once noticed, can be shifted. And over time, these shifts lead to greater ease, greater focus, and, paradoxically, better results.

But the goal isn’t the result. The goal is to become more intimate with your own process. To move through university not as someone ticking off requirements, but as someone engaged in a relationship—with ideas, with questions, with self. Mindfulness encourages students to see learning not just as the absorption of information, but as the unfolding of consciousness. To study mindfully is to develop a subtle intimacy with your own mind—noticing its loops and patterns, its resistances and preferences. And in doing so, you begin to relate to learning not just as a means to an end, but as a mirror.

You see, the most powerful thing mindfulness teaches is not how to succeed, but how to be with yourself in the process of trying. This is what sustains excellence—not pressure, not panic, but a quiet kind of fidelity. A return to what matters. A return to presence.

In the end, success at university is not defined by grades alone. It is defined by how deeply you show up to your own experience. Whether you honour your curiosity. Whether you learn to recognise and interrupt your own avoidance patterns. Whether you trust that your mind, when treated with respect and care, can become not just a tool, but a companion.

So let this be your practice: not just to strive, but to inhabit. Not just to prove yourself, but to meet yourself. That is what excellence really asks of you—not more effort, but more awareness. Not more answers, but deeper presence with the questions. And from that presence, you might just discover not only how to study better, but how to live better.

Unlock your potential with mindfulness! Discover how a few mindful moments can help spark breakthrough, overcome blocks, and transform your personal and professional journey. Subscribe to my blog today for more on the art of being present.

If you want to start putting these ideas into action, you can sign up for Integrative Meditation (Level 1). This course represents the culmination of years of learning, practice, and personal growth. Integrative Meditation is a comprehensive framework designed to enhance your mental and emotional well-being. It draws on Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT), positive psychology, neuroscience, Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), journaling, and breathwork to support you in reducing stress, enhancing focus, building emotional resilience, and discovering your true self.

Digital Wellbeing in Academia: How Mindfulness Can Reclaim Your Campus

Posted on by Allan Johnson in Observations

The university campus, once a sanctuary of quiet study and intellectual exchange, has become increasingly mediated by digital interfaces. The lure of perpetual connectivity, the expectation of instant responses, and the algorithmic curation of our intellectual and emotional landscapes have shifted the way we engage with research, teaching, and even moments of solitude. While digital tools offer undeniable benefits—streamlined communication, access to global resources, and new pedagogical innovations—their unchecked presence risks fragmenting attention, eroding contemplative space, and reinforcing a culture of performative productivity. If academia is to reclaim the ethos of deep inquiry, it must address digital wellbeing not as a peripheral concern but as integral to its mission.

The Attention Economy in Academia

Academia has long prided itself on sustained thought—reading a single text deeply, tracing the genealogy of an idea across centuries, crafting an argument with care. Yet, the attention economy militates against these practices. Universities, much like other institutions, have internalised the rhythms of digital capitalism: emails beget more emails, notifications demand immediate responses, and the performative aspects of academic life—metrics, social media visibility, online presence—often supplant the quieter work of thinking.

This shift is not neutral. Research on digital distraction suggests that frequent interruptions impair deep work, reducing both cognitive flexibility and long-term retention. The very conditions that allow for original insight—boredom, slow thinking, the gestation of ideas over time—are the conditions most at risk in a hyperconnected environment. For postgraduate researchers, early-career academics, and even established scholars, this can lead to intellectual shallowness disguised as hyperproductivity.

The challenge, then, is not merely to ‘switch off’ but to reimagine the structures that govern academic work. Digital wellbeing is not about retreating from technology entirely but about cultivating mindful engagement with it—both at the individual and institutional levels. This means creating spaces where focus is protected, where silence is valued, and where digital technologies serve rather than dictate our intellectual lives.

Mindfulness as an Academic Praxis

Mindfulness—a practice rooted in sustained attention, awareness, and non-reactivity—has gained traction in corporate and wellness cultures, but its implications for academia remain underexplored. At its core, mindfulness is about intentionality: being present with what one is doing, resisting the impulse to fragment one’s attention, and cultivating a reflective relationship with digital tools. In the context of academic life, this can take multiple forms:

  • Intentional Digital Use: Rather than allowing email, social media, or online research to dictate the structure of the day, mindful academics create intentional boundaries—checking email at set times rather than compulsively, using social media for intellectual exchange rather than passive scrolling, and recognising when online engagement becomes an avoidance strategy.
  • Deep Work Practices: Inspired by Cal Newport’s work on deep work, mindfulness encourages sustained periods of focus. This means structuring the workday to include distraction-free blocks for writing, reading, or conceptual thinking—time when the digital world is deliberately held at bay.
  • Reclaiming Analogue Spaces: While digital tools have transformed research methodologies, there is value in reintroducing analogue practices—handwritten notes, offline reading, in-person seminars—precisely because they resist the speed and distraction of the digital world.
  • Embodied Awareness: Digital overuse often manifests in physical discomfort—strained eyes, shallow breathing, tense shoulders. Mindfulness cultivates bodily awareness, encouraging regular pauses to reset posture, breathe deeply, or take breaks from screens. In doing so, it counters the disembodiment that often accompanies academic labour.

Digital Wellbeing as Institutional Culture

While individual strategies are essential, digital wellbeing must also be embedded within institutional cultures. This requires challenging the unspoken norms that equate busyness with worth, online visibility with academic success, and hyperresponsiveness with commitment. Universities can support this cultural shift in several ways:

  • Rethinking Email and Communication Norms: Establishing collective expectations around digital communication—such as response time boundaries and ‘email-free’ work periods—can prevent the erosion of focus and the encroachment of work into evenings and weekends.
  • Prioritising Asynchronous Learning and Engagement: Digital tools have enabled new forms of knowledge exchange, but they need not replicate the frenetic pace of social media. Encouraging asynchronous discussion boards, recorded lectures, and reflective assignments allows students and academics alike to engage deeply without constant digital presence.
  • Supporting Mindfulness-Based Interventions: Universities that integrate mindfulness into researcher development programmes, teaching training, and academic support services foster resilience in a digital age. The Mindful Researcher programme, for instance, has demonstrated how contemplative practices enhance focus, emotional regulation, and overall wellbeing in postgraduate students.
  • Designing Tech-Conscious Campus Spaces: From libraries with silent study zones to wellbeing rooms that offer screen-free respite, the built environment plays a role in shaping digital habits. Campuses should provide spaces that encourage both deep intellectual engagement and mindful restoration.

The Future of Academic Presence

The digital landscape is not static; it will continue to evolve, shaping the way knowledge is produced and disseminated. But academics have agency in this process. By embracing digital wellbeing not as an individual act of self-care but as a collective reimagining of academic life, universities can reclaim the conditions necessary for deep work, reflective scholarship, and meaningful intellectual community.

Mindfulness is not a retreat from technology, nor is it a romanticisation of pre-digital academia. Rather, it is a mode of critical engagement—one that insists on the importance of presence, the necessity of slowness, and the right to an academic life that is not dictated by the demands of the algorithm. In reclaiming our campuses, we reclaim the very purpose of higher education itself.

Mindfulness for University Leaders: Enhancing Leadership and Decision-Making

Posted on by Allan Johnson in Observations

Leadership in higher education is an exercise in paradox. It demands both vision and pragmatism, authority and adaptability, conviction and receptivity. University leaders—whether deans, heads of department, or senior administrators—are tasked with balancing competing demands, navigating complex institutional landscapes, and fostering cultures of both academic excellence and well-being. In the midst of these pressures, mindfulness is not a luxury but a necessity. It provides the cognitive and emotional clarity required to lead with insight, resilience, and integrity.

Decision-Making in a Complex Landscape

The university is an ecosystem of ideas, personalities, and policies, each influencing the others in unpredictable ways. Decision-making in such an environment is rarely straightforward. Leaders must weigh long-term consequences against immediate needs, consider multiple stakeholders, and remain responsive to shifting external conditions.

Mindfulness cultivates the capacity to hold complexity without becoming overwhelmed. By training the mind to observe thoughts non-reactively, leaders develop a greater ability to assess situations with clarity and precision. This reduces the tendency toward impulsive decisions driven by stress or cognitive bias. Instead, mindfulness encourages a pause—a moment of reflection that allows for more intentional, values-aligned choices.

Leading with Emotional Intelligence

At its best, university leadership is not just about policies but about people. The ability to listen deeply, respond with empathy, and manage difficult conversations with poise is central to fostering a healthy academic environment. Here, mindfulness plays a crucial role.

By increasing awareness of one’s own emotional states, mindfulness enhances self-regulation and reduces reactive tendencies. Leaders who practice mindfulness are more likely to respond rather than react, creating space for constructive dialogue even in high-pressure situations. This emotional intelligence strengthens relationships, builds trust, and ultimately contributes to a more collegial institutional culture.

Resilience and Sustainable Leadership

The demands of university leadership can be relentless. The pressure to meet research targets, maintain institutional reputation, and support staff and students can lead to chronic stress and burnout. Without intentional strategies for resilience, even the most dedicated leaders risk exhaustion.

Mindfulness serves as a counterbalance to this cycle. By cultivating a present-moment focus, it prevents the mind from becoming hijacked by worry about the future or frustration over past challenges. Practices such as mindful breathing, body scanning, or brief moments of stillness throughout the day act as reset points, allowing leaders to replenish their mental and emotional energy. In doing so, mindfulness supports not just individual well-being but also the sustainability of leadership itself.

Creating a Mindful Institutional Culture

The benefits of mindfulness extend beyond individual leaders to the wider university environment. When leadership models mindful presence, it sets a tone for the entire institution—encouraging a culture of attentiveness, inclusivity, and thoughtful engagement. Whether through structured mindfulness initiatives or simply through embodied example, university leaders have the opportunity to foster an academic culture that values both excellence and well-being.

Leadership as a Practice of Presence

Mindfulness is not about disengagement; it is about engaging with greater clarity, wisdom, and purpose. For university leaders, it offers a means of navigating complexity without being consumed by it, of making decisions with both rationality and humanity, and of sustaining leadership over the long term. In an era where higher education faces mounting challenges, the capacity to lead with mindful awareness is not just beneficial—it is essential.

Unlock your potential with mindfulness! Discover how a few mindful moments can help spark breakthrough, overcome blocks, and transform your personal and professional journey. Subscribe to my blog today for more on the art of being present.

If you want to start putting these ideas into action, you can sign up for Integrative Meditation (Level 1). This course represents the culmination of years of learning, practice, and personal growth. Integrative Meditation is a comprehensive framework designed to enhance your mental and emotional well-being. It draws on Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT), positive psychology, neuroscience, Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), journaling, and breathwork to support you in reducing stress, enhancing focus, building emotional resilience, and discovering your true self.

The Creative Edge: How Mindfulness Sparks Innovation in the Art

Posted on by Allan Johnson in Observations

Creativity has long been imagined as the product of sudden flashes of inspiration—a mysterious force that strikes unpredictably, as if from the ether. Yet, those who create regularly, whether in literature, visual art, music, or performance, know that innovation is rarely spontaneous. Rather, it emerges from sustained attention, deep engagement, and an openness to the unknown. In this light, mindfulness is not an adjunct to artistic practice but one of its central catalysts. It sharpens perception, deepens intuition, and dissolves the habitual patterns that can stagnate creative expression.

Attention as the Gateway to Innovation

Mindfulness, at its core, is the practice of sustained attention. It invites us to be fully present with our thoughts, sensations, and emotions without becoming entangled in them. This cultivated attentiveness is a vital skill for artists. The novelist who lingers over the texture of a moment, the dancer who senses the subtlest shifts in weight and balance, the musician who listens not just to notes but to the spaces between them—all are engaging in a kind of radical presence.

Innovation, in turn, arises when we begin to notice what is often overlooked. As cognitive science has shown, the brain operates largely on predictive models, filling in gaps with assumptions drawn from past experiences. Mindfulness disrupts this autopilot mode, allowing for a heightened receptivity to nuance, ambiguity, and surprise—the very elements that define artistic originality.

Unhooking from the Inner Critic

If creativity depends on openness, it is perpetually at risk from the tyranny of self-judgment. Many artists wrestle with an internal critic that anticipates failure before the work has even begun. This self-monitoring impulse, useful in refinement, is often premature in the generative stages of creation, leading to stagnation or avoidance.

Mindfulness offers a way of decoupling from these intrusive narratives. By observing thoughts as transient mental events rather than absolute truths, artists can cultivate a more spacious relationship with doubt and imperfection. In this state, failure is no longer a verdict but an exploratory gesture—an essential part of the creative process.

Embracing the Fertile Void

One of the paradoxes of creativity is that it flourishes in spaces of not-knowing. The blank page, the empty canvas, the silence before composition—these voids can be sources of both terror and possibility. Mindfulness teaches us to remain in this liminal space without rushing to fill it. It encourages what mindfulness practitioners call ‘beginner’s mind’—an attitude of curiosity, free from the constraints of expectation.

The most transformative artistic breakthroughs often occur in these moments of receptive stillness. Consider the improvisational musician who surrenders to the unpredictable flow of a performance or the poet who lingers in the generative tension of an unfinished line. These acts of creative trust mirror the mindfulness practitioner’s willingness to sit with discomfort and uncertainty rather than seeking immediate resolution.

A Practice of Presence

To practice mindfulness as an artist is not merely to find calm but to develop an acute sensitivity to experience in all its richness. It is to engage with one’s medium, environment, and inner world with fresh eyes. When we loosen our grip on fixed outcomes and habitual judgments, we create the conditions for genuine innovation.

Ultimately, creativity is not about waiting for inspiration to strike. It is about cultivating the conditions in which inspiration becomes inevitable. In this, mindfulness is not an optional enhancement but an essential tool—one that keeps the creative edge sharp, attuned, and alive.

Unlock your potential with mindfulness! Discover how a few mindful moments can help spark breakthrough, overcome blocks, and transform your personal and professional journey. Subscribe to my blog today for more on the art of being present.

If you want to start putting these ideas into action, you can sign up for Integrative Meditation (Level 1). This course represents the culmination of years of learning, practice, and personal growth. Integrative Meditation is a comprehensive framework designed to enhance your mental and emotional well-being. It draws on Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT), positive psychology, neuroscience, Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), journaling, and breathwork to support you in reducing stress, enhancing focus, building emotional resilience, and discovering your true self.