I feel as if I’m watching the world from behind sheer cotton gauze. I get so caught up in daily life and the grind of work that when I stop, sometimes my insides keep going without me. Things get out of focus, tilting from one side to another, completely off-kilter.
Inertia is a cruel task-masker.
Sometimes, I just have to stop, put my head in my hands, take off my glasses and close my eyes.
Sometimes, it requires concerted effort to breathe and be still.
But sometimes, if I can be still long enough, my insides and outside..merge. They come into alignment, and everything becomes clear.
I haven’t been getting enough of these clear, still moments lately I’ve been crashing through life like a human bumper-car, and it’s starting to take its toll.
My wife Kathryn is studying to be a life coach. She is quite wise and will undoubtedly be a fantastic coach. She hasn’t dubbed me The Family Guinea Pig™ yet, but she will put on her “Coach Hat” from time to time, if I ask nicely.
I asked her nicely.
I asked her nicely, what the hell is wrong with me? I asked her how I could find my balance again. What did I have to do?
She told me I got the questions all wrong. The question is not, what do I do? The question is, who am I?
“Start from the who,” she always says.
Always start from the who.
What the hell does that mean? There’s no paper you can read, no test you can take, no questionnaire to fill out that can answer the question of who you are..
This is where the real work starts, I tell myself. This is where you have to ask the hard questions. This is where you have to listen for the answers you’ve been avoiding all your life.
Civilizations crumble beneath the weight of questions like this.
And here I am, on a Saturday night, asking the questions that have no easy answers.
Who am I? What are my values? What does my authentic life look like?
I anticipate a few introspective days in the near future.
Sleep well, my dears, and dream of the truth.
Background Music: Mozart : Galimathias Musicum (Quodlibet) 1/3 : 1-7
I guess I should call this post “Opportunity Rising After Sleeping In and Having a Leisurely Brunch,” right? It’s a rainy, cool day here in Kentucky, and I’m luxuriating in the realization that I have absolutely nothing at all to do. The laundry is done. Dishes are washed. House is reasonably tidy, and my beloved is happily occupied with work of her own for an hour or so.
I feel decadent.
We get so caught up in the rush of our days that we forget the joy of simply being. The warmth of quiet. The bliss of stillness.
I was Skyping with a friend the other day, and she was regaling us with her schedule. This mother of four had a schedule that would make the Secretary of State blanch–double, triple, even quadruple-booked, always multitasking, hands, mind, and body never idle. I wanted to shake her and say, “For goddess sake, woman, slow down!” Okay, I sorta did that, but she laughed and agreed with me.
Perhaps it’s the realization that our time here on Earth is finite that pushes us to be ever-productive. Or maybe it’s our culture trying to turn us into mindless worker drones. I don’t know. But somewhere, stillness and quiet have gotten a rotten rap.
Idle hands are the Devil’s plaything, or whatever the quote is.
Until we are still, we can never hear the voice of Divinity. Until we are still, we can never know true peace.
So turn off the television–yes, someone will win and someone will lose The Big Game™. You can watch the highlights on the news. There will be another game next week. Put down the Smart Device. Those Tweets™ will be there in an hour. Send the kids out to play in the fresh air (or at least give them a good book to read).
Sit still. Be quiet. Breathe in the universe.
Tomorrow, you can be busy again. But today? Choose the kinder option for yourself, and slow down a bit.
Now, I’m going on the couch to listen to the sounds of Sunday afternoon.
Love to you–Deb