Some twenty years ago, amidst the daily scramble of getting my two boys to school, I stumbled upon a ritual that would profoundly change our lives. Mornings were the usual race against time—packing lunches, finding shoes, grabbing bags and books, driving as fast as possible to beat the bell.
In search of some peace, I introduced a new practice: a minute of silent meditation in the car before starting the engine. No matter how late we were, once our seatbelts were on, we sat in silence for 60 seconds—listening to birdsong or simply our own breath.
At first, my sons, then in 5th and 6th grade at Valley Vista, were skeptical. They worried this extra minute would make them even later. Despite their protests, I insisted, trusting in the power of a brief pause to reset us.
To our surprise, the practice began to transform our mornings. My boys, initially reluctant, started to embrace the stillness. That quiet minute became a powerful tool—not just for calm, but for organization and focus. It seemed they became more proactive, maybe because they knew that moment of calm was coming.
For me, that minute became essential. I found myself driving to school with more focus, more calm, and more clarity. What started as a tactic to reduce stress became part of my daily life. I still have the “Meditate” sticker on the dashboard of my old minivan.
This small habit rippled outward. I like to think my sons carried that mindfulness into their school days—and maybe still do. As for me, the practice grounded me, day after day. And now I’m doing this one minute practice with my mentee.
I was reminded of those moments by the City’s current “Slow the Fast Down” campaign, encouraging drivers to reduce speed and embrace mindfulness. It resonates deeply. For me, it’s more than a road safety message—it’s a reminder to slow down in life, to be present, and to breathe.