英文原文
Journaling as a Mindfulness Practice. By Tammy T. Stone. Before mindfulness became a household word, and far before I had any idea why I was writing, or that writing could be used as part of a therapeutic or spiritual practice, I was journaling. It was an instant love affair. My first diary had yellowy lined paper crusted with gold at the edges and a plush leathery cover with an illustration of a bear holding bright balloons. It came with a gold (well, probably brass) lock and key that I coveted as the gateway to a world of secrets and confessions I treasured like gems in a treasure chest. That the gems probably consisted of irritation with my little sister and my favourite boys and girls names is beside the point. If I needed to vent and dream in private, it was my freedom and my choice! Over the years, I made journals out of composition books and notebooks I’d compile in burgundy and grey three-ringed binders I pilfered from my dad’s home office. These pages were my sacred space—a home—where I would visit whenever my thoughts and emotions were on the brink of spilling over. It was also a sphere of sorts, a bubble enveloping me where I existed in my own special universe of person and page, where I could continually return the way we do with great, juicy books. As I wrote, I could feel the world outside passing by without me, until I was ready to catch up and rejoin it. Journaling, a very particular mode of writing, for me grew into a way of rendering life—the often-hard living of it—palatable, manageable, and even exciting. It’s never been so much about needing to record daily events for fear they’ll “go on slipping like sand through our fingers,” as Salman Rushdie has put it. I actually rarely write down details of time, place and event, unless they’re attached to a specific emotion I need to explore. Rather, I’ve always felt nothing is real until it’s been written down; I synthesize new happenings into my understanding of life and discover nuances about myself and my reality. Processing events and feelings is much easier for me once they’ve been filtered through the journaling process—this is how I find my way through riddles of emotion. Written down, they became something I can regard with a measure of distance. I can start to accept and befriend them. Journaling allows me to simultaneously take a step back from overwhelming feelings, while paradoxically, becoming more intimate with them. It’s like having a conversation with a best friend; analyzing problems from every single angle with someone we love and trust who can offer new points of view and render the problem more tangible. What we don’t process or put out there stands a good chance of disappearing from the realm of our consciousness. Intimate chats and journaling, among other tools, help frame our existence and give it meaning: they help us become aware of thoughts, fears and desires that might remain obscured if we don’t honour them with attention. I write daily, but I admit it came as a revelation that I’ve been inadvertently engaging with a practice that was not only a precursor, but would prove integral to mindfulness training. Chronicling fluctuations in mood, naming and dissecting my emotions and fears, writing interior-based poetry, jotting down scenes or bits of conversation that sparked awe in me. These second-nature practices were, I realized, slowly helping me merge closer to my own life and find my place in a world I felt more connected to. The term mindfulness has slowly entered the zeitgeist, more so after January 23, 2014, when TIME magazine ran a cover story called, “The Mindful Revolution.” The proliferation of words/concepts like mindfulness, meditation, and spirituality are reflective of a, largely Western, society crushed under the stresses of modern living, in desperate need of change. We know—and if we don’t know, we learn the hard way, that easing stress and finding peace and happiness cannot be achieved by latching onto a fad, taking a weekend course, or decorating ourselves with the material trappings of wellness. I believe, though, that being surrounded by these catchwords can only help take us in the general direction of non-violence and harmony, if only by calling attention to our awareness that something is wrong. Jon Kabat-Zinn, creator of the Stress Reduction Clinic and the Center for Mindfulness in Medicine, Health Care, and Society, defines mindfulness this way: “Mindfulness means paying attention in a particular way; On purpose, in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally.” I love how this definition encompasses so much of what feels right about being in the world as our best selves. We generally understand mindfulness to be about being present, but how do we do it, and if we’re being honest, why. Meditation helps train our minds to focus on the breath or an object of attention to enhance our concentration skills and direct the mind to the now. But to what end? What is mindfulness really about? For me, on purpose is the vital quality of having intention along with our awareness. We are not blindly adhering to the present, but willfully encouraging ourselves away from places (past and future) that we understand do not logically exist, because we genuinely want to progress and be happier. In the present moment amounts to the revolution of living fully and richly now, the only time frame we have at our disposal. Nonjudgmentally, as I see it, teaches us that we can’t criticize or hate our way to personal growth; we can gently and gracefully move toward peace by accepting things as they are, and acknowledging with attention and compassion how everything that comes, also goes. In short, it’s all okay. It’s been such a joyful discovery to find journaling’s place within the larger arena of mindfulness and to understand how much of a therapeutic tool it’s been, which makes me feel passionate about wanting to inspire others to journal. If we apply Kabat-Zinn’s mindfulness definition to journaling as way of paying attention, we find journaling is invariably something we do on purpose: we are often so distracted in day-to-day life, letting our mind wander here and there, but we willingly and actively come to our journal. We want or need to explore something that is weighing on, unsettling or exciting us, that needs our loving attention. We want to make sense of it all. Journaling is always placing us in the present moment. Even as we wax nostalgic or panic about upcoming events, we are pausing and carving out the time, here and now, to explore these feelings. The act of writing keeps us tethered to the present and allows us to take a step back from what preoccupies us as we become acutely aware of our selves as witness or agent of the memories, worries, desires or concerns we experience. To worry is to be lost in the chaos of an emotion. To know or articulate that I’m worried is one step removed – I am aware, I have the choice of breaking it down and taking action. Or maybe there’s no solution, but still I write until the feeling’s intensity subsides; I hold a space for the emotion so it can weaken its grasp on me, as all things do when confronted with our gentle attention. Journaling and meditation both allow for this very healing ability to show our selves love, to observe and hold space for our emotions. Nonjudgmentally might be the trickiest one. It’s hard not to judge ourselves, and if we’re honest, others. When we sit down to meditate, or approach our journal, we are ultimately making a choice to be in a safe zone for the unfolding of whatever arises: crazed thoughts, difficult emotions, confusing combinations of the two. We are acknowledging that we are complex beings with myriad concerns; we are granting ourselves the space to observe the swirl of our interior worlds in motion, to feel what we are feeling with compassion and, I’d say, hope. Journaling is a beautiful tool for self-knowledge and awakening; we become actively acquainted with our stories and how we construct them without attachment or judgment. We engage with who we are right now as we reflect on and celebrate our beautiful complexities and the wondrous world we are connected to. With every word, with every line we scrawl with our favourite pen, we are stripping away the layers that confound or threaten to overtake us by being mindful of them, and we are left with a simplified and more integrative way of being.
中文翻译
正念日记作为一种修行。作者：Tammy T. Stone。在正念成为家喻户晓的词汇之前，远在我明白自己为何写作，或写作可以成为治疗或灵性修行的一部分之前，我就在写日记了。这是一见钟情。我的第一本日记有泛黄的横线纸，边缘镶着金色，还有柔软皮革封面，上面画着一只熊拿着明亮的气球。它配有一把金色（嗯，可能是黄铜）锁和钥匙，我视之为通往秘密和忏悔世界的门户，我像珍宝一样珍藏着。这些珍宝可能包括对我妹妹的恼怒和我最喜欢的男孩女孩名字，但这无关紧要。如果我需要私下发泄和梦想，这是我的自由和选择！多年来，我用作文本和笔记本制作日记，我把它们装进从父亲家庭办公室偷来的酒红色和灰色三环活页夹里。这些页面是我的神圣空间——一个家——每当我的思想和情感即将溢出时，我就会去那里。它也是一种领域，一个包裹着我的泡泡，我在其中存在于自己特殊的人与页面的宇宙中，我可以像我们对待伟大、多汁的书籍一样不断回归。当我写作时，我能感觉到外面的世界在我身边流逝，直到我准备好赶上并重新加入它。日记，一种非常特殊的写作方式，对我来说逐渐成为一种让生活——常常艰难的生活——变得可口、可管理甚至令人兴奋的方式。它从来不是为了记录日常事件，担心它们会“像沙子一样从我们的指间溜走”，正如萨尔曼·拉什迪所说。我实际上很少写下时间、地点和事件的细节，除非它们与我需要探索的特定情感相关。相反，我一直觉得，除非写下来，否则什么都不真实；我将新发生的事情融入我对生活的理解中，并发现关于自己和现实的细微差别。一旦通过日记过程过滤，处理事件和情感对我来说就容易多了——这就是我找到情感谜题出路的方式。写下来后，它们成为我可以以一定距离看待的东西。我可以开始接受并与它们为友。日记让我能够同时从压倒性的情感中退后一步，同时矛盾地，与它们变得更加亲密。这就像与最好的朋友交谈；与我们爱和信任的人从每一个角度分析问题，他们可以提供新的观点，使问题更加具体。我们不处理或不表达的东西很可能会从我们的意识领域中消失。亲密聊天和日记，以及其他工具，帮助构建我们的存在并赋予其意义：它们帮助我们意识到那些如果我们不给予关注就可能保持模糊的思想、恐惧和欲望。我每天写作，但我承认，我无意中参与了一种修行，它不仅是前兆，而且被证明是正念训练不可或缺的一部分。记录情绪波动，命名和解剖我的情感和恐惧，写基于内心的诗歌，记下让我感到敬畏的场景或对话片段。我意识到，这些第二自然的实践正在慢慢帮助我更接近自己的生活，并在我感到更连接的世界中找到我的位置。正念这个词已经慢慢进入时代精神，尤其是在2014年1月23日之后，当时《时代》杂志刊登了一篇封面故事，题为“正念革命”。正念、冥想和灵性等词语/概念的激增反映了一个，主要是西方，社会在现代生活的压力下被压垮，迫切需要改变。我们知道——如果我们不知道，我们会艰难地学到，缓解压力、找到平静和幸福不能通过追逐时尚、参加周末课程或用健康的物质装饰自己来实现。然而，我相信，被这些流行语包围只能帮助我们朝着非暴力和和谐的大方向前进，即使只是通过引起我们对某些事情不对劲的意识的注意。乔恩·卡巴金，减压诊所和医学、医疗保健与社会正念中心的创始人，这样定义正念：“正念意味着以特定方式关注；有目的地，在当下，且不加评判地。”我喜欢这个定义如何涵盖了许多关于以最佳自我存在于世界中的正确感觉。我们通常理解正念是关于活在当下，但我们如何做到，如果我们诚实的话，为什么。冥想帮助训练我们的思维专注于呼吸或注意对象，以增强我们的专注技能，并将思维导向现在。但目的是什么？正念到底是什么？对我来说，有目的是拥有意图与我们的意识一起的重要品质。我们不是盲目地坚持当下，而是有意地鼓励自己远离那些我们理解在逻辑上不存在的地方（过去和未来），因为我们真诚地想要进步并更快乐。在当下相当于现在充分而丰富地生活的革命，这是我们唯一可支配的时间框架。不加评判地，正如我所见，教导我们不能通过批评或憎恨来实现个人成长；我们可以通过接受事物的本来面目，并以关注和慈悲承认一切来去，温和而优雅地走向和平。简而言之，一切都好。发现日记在正念更大领域中的位置，并理解它作为一种治疗工具的程度，这是一个如此快乐的发现，这让我感到充满激情，想要激励他人写日记。如果我们将卡巴金的正念定义应用于日记作为一种关注的方式，我们发现日记总是我们有目的地做的事情：我们在日常生活中常常分心，让思维四处游荡，但我们愿意并积极地来到日记前。我们想要或需要探索一些困扰、不安或让我们兴奋的事情，这些事情需要我们充满爱的关注。我们想要理解这一切。日记总是将我们置于当下。即使我们怀旧或对即将发生的事件感到恐慌，我们也在暂停并抽出时间，此时此地，探索这些感受。写作的行为将我们锚定在当下，并允许我们从困扰我们的事情中退后一步，因为我们敏锐地意识到自己作为记忆、担忧、欲望或关切的见证者或代理人。担忧就是迷失在情感的混乱中。知道或表达我担心是退后一步——我意识到，我有选择分解它并采取行动。或者也许没有解决方案，但我仍然写作，直到情感的强度减弱；我为情感留出空间，这样它就能减弱对我的控制，就像所有事物在面对我们温和的关注时一样。日记和冥想都允许这种非常治愈的能力，向我们自己展示爱，观察并为我们的情感留出空间。不加评判可能是最棘手的。很难不评判自己，如果我们诚实的话，还有他人。当我们坐下来冥想，或接近日记时，我们最终做出选择，进入一个安全区域，让任何出现的东西展开：疯狂的想法、困难的情感、两者的混乱组合。我们承认我们是复杂的生物，有无数关切；我们给予自己空间观察我们内心世界的漩涡运动，以慈悲和，我想说，希望感受我们所感受的。日记是自我认知和觉醒的美丽工具；我们积极熟悉我们的故事以及我们如何构建它们，不带执着或评判。我们与现在的自己互动，反思并庆祝我们美丽的复杂性和我们连接的奇妙世界。随着每一个词，随着我们用最喜欢的笔潦草写下的每一行，我们正在剥离那些困惑或威胁要压倒我们的层次，通过正念地对待它们，我们留下了一种简化且更整合的存在方式。
文章概要
本文探讨了日记作为一种正念修行，作者分享个人经历，从童年日记到成年后作为自我探索工具，强调日记如何帮助处理情感、活在当下、不加评判地观察内心，并与正念定义（有目的、当下、不加评判）相结合，作为佛教中年反思的有效工具，促进自我认知、情绪管理和灵性成长。
高德明老师的评价
用12岁初中生可以听懂的语音来重复翻译的内容：写日记就像有一个秘密朋友，你可以把所有开心、难过或担心的事情告诉它，不用怕被笑话。当你写下来时，就好像把乱糟糟的心情整理好，让自己更清楚在想什么，感觉更轻松。这就像玩一个游戏，帮助你在忙碌的生活中停下来，好好感受现在，变得更快乐。
佛学的各个宗派视角评价，突出《显密圆通成佛心要集》的视角：从佛教显宗和大乘视角看，日记修行契合“观心”法门，帮助行者觉察念头、培养正念。准提法强调“心性本净”，日记作为工具，能辅助清除烦恼尘垢，显发自性光明。《显密圆通成佛心要集》倡导显密圆融，日记可视为一种方便法门，通过文字般若记录内心波动，达到“即事而真”，在日常生活修持中体悟空性。此法简单易行，适合现代人，尤其中年阶段反思生命意义，积累资粮，趋向菩提。
在修行实践上可以应用的和可以解决人们的十个问题：1. 情绪管理：通过写日记平复焦虑、愤怒等负面情绪。2. 自我认知：更清楚了解自己的性格、欲望和恐惧。3. 活在当下：写作过程锚定注意力，减少过去未来执着。4. 培养慈悲：不加评判记录，学会接纳自己与他人。5. 增强正念：日常练习提升觉察力，类似坐禅辅助。6. 解决困惑：梳理思路，找到生活问题的新视角。7. 促进疗愈：释放心理压力，加速从创伤中恢复。8. 灵性成长：连接内心深层，激发智慧与灵感。9. 改善关系：通过自我反思，提升人际沟通质量。10. 中年反思：在生命转折点，借助日记整合经验，明确方向，为后半生修行奠定基础。