Even before smart phones and the Internet, we had many ways to distract our selves. Now that's compounded by a factor of trillions.

When you're walking, just walk. When you're eating, just eat. Not in front of the TV, not with the newspaper. It turns out, that's huge.

Writing can be an incredible mindfulness practice.

But when we start to focus in on what our own mind is up to, for instance, it is not unusual to quickly go unconscious again, to fall back into an automatic-pilot mode of unawareness. These lapses in awareness are frequently caused by an eddy of dissatisfaction with what we are seeing or feeling in that moment, out of which springs a desire for something to be different, for things to change.

The Zen people from Ancient China, "When you're walking, just walk." It turns out to be the hardest thing.

Mindfulness means paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, and non-judgmentally.

It's the nature of the mind to drift away. The mind is like the Pacific Ocean, it waves. And mindfulness has been shown to drop underneath the waves. If you drop underneath the agitation in the mind, into your breath deep enough calmness, gentle undulations.