Disruptions
“But
just as often, if not more often, the interruption comes not from another but
from the self itself, or some other self within the self, that whistles and
pounds upon the door panels and tosses itself, splashing, into the pond of
meditation.”
Mary
Oliver (Upstream, “Of Power and Time”, p.23, Penguin Press, 2016)
Anyone
who does creative work, whether that is visual art or speech writing or constructing
a business report, knows that unfettered time and space are needed. One must be
able, as Mary Oliver says, “to pace, to chew pencils, to scribble and erase
and scribble again.” Interruptions are unwelcome distractions that cause
one to lose a train of thought, a cogent bit of memory, a color combination. It
is like seeing a gorgeous sunrise and while trying to find your camera, the sun
emerges and fades all the colors. Having the phone ring, the doorbell clatter,
or in my case, the dog bark as though Godzilla is breaking in, can interrupt a
perfect thought that never returns.
Most
often, however, those interruptions don’t come from without—not from phone
calls or doorbells—but from within. Some part of our brain—the part that likes
to talk—decides this is the ideal moment to remember that you were supposed to
make a doctor’s appointed today, that you are out of coffee, or that your
great-niece’s birthday is next week, and you still haven’t bought a gift. During
this time of pandemic isolation, it seems as though we should have gobs of unfettered
time. Stuck at home, we should have the space and freedom to ponder, to consider,
to create, but our insides are so jumbled and worried and craving attention,
that they distract us like a neglected three-year-old. Now I’m hungry, now I
need a nap, now run to the grocery store, now carry out the trash—an so it
goes. Our brains do whatever it takes to break our concentration.
I think
I speak for many of us when I say, take a break. Cut yourself some slack. This Covid-craziness is weighing on us in ways we don’t even understand and it’s
taking a toll on our mental health. We compound our discomfort by condemning
ourselves for being distracted, disorganized, disoriented. We would not do that
to a child, and it’s the child within us that is scared and in need of
attention. Just be kind. Be as kind to yourself as you would be to that
proverbial three-year-old. This is hard stuff. It’s okay to be a little bit
distracted.
Creative
work, study, putting together a presentation, making dinner, all require concentration.
Sometimes we need to give ourselves permission to work in short bursts rather
than long hours. When we feel tired, rest. When we are short-tempered, apologize.
Tell the truth. Our fuses are already lit, so we need to limit the amount of
negativity we allow in. Feeding negative energy is neither conducive to productivity
nor to peace of mind. Breathe. Smile. If you cannot go outside, at least, look
out the window. We may need to be like my grandpa, and just stare at the sky
until we feel calm. Give yourself permission to be out of sorts. Love the
child within you even when she/he is in a bad mood. We are doing the best we can
to get through this hard time. Let’s love and support ourselves and each other.
In
the Spirit,
Jane
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