I was going to write something about how this book wasn't particularly well-written and therefore was very slow going for me, but that it might be helpful to people who are new to mindfulness and looking for ways to better integrate their introversion with the lives they lead. But what I'm feeling is actually more complicated than that. I'll try to explain.
A book like this is full of exercises for the reader to do; some of them are written exercises, some of them involve observing your thoughts in different scenarios, and some of them involve particular types of guided meditation. All of them are extremely detailed and, in the case of the meditations in particular, tell you exactly how the meditation is supposed to go and what you're supposed to get from it. This results-oriented view of Buddhist concepts just doesn't sit well with me, and I worry a lot that if people start doing all these exercises and don't see precisely the results they're expecting, they will abandon practice altogether. I think if we do Buddhist practice, we should do it because we feel it's a good thing to be doing, something that makes sense for us. But, to paraphrase the writer Claire Dederer, we shouldn't go to mindfulness practice with our plates held out, asking for more of the same stuff we've always asked for. We need to be open to what might actually happen.
I know this sounds preachy, and I'm sure there are people who can be helped by regimens like this, or corporate mindfulness workshops and the like. But my own experience has taught me that there are just no shortcuts here, and I've apparently come to feel this quite passionately, which is something of a surprise to me. But I believe the time we spend reading writers who are busy trying to explain Buddhism might be better spent reading writers who are busy being the Buddha, if that makes sense. Less doing, more being.
I won this book in a giveaway here on Goodreads.