I go throughout the day building blog posts in my head. In the notes section of my phone, I have nearly used up the memory with ideas that pop into my consciousness. Oo! I saw someone I know. She said this. That’s inspiring, I’m going to use that! It could be anything. A thought, an interaction, or a mere pebble on the side of a babbling brook. The source is irrelevant—inspiration is inspiration, right? We can’t judge this stuff, we have to take it as it is and run uphill, backwards with it.
This evening as I am parked on a dangerously comfortable high chair after a scrumptious meal of sautéed vegetables and white fish, I am contemplating the dishes. How boring, doing the dishes. Can’t I just stare at them and will them to do themselves? Do I really have to get out of this chair? Then, wouldn’t you know it, I was inspired. Thank you fork and knife! So I sit here, still, and write. And the dishes are doing themselves (amazing!!).
What started this little monologue was the concept of: OK, so I have to do the dishes. What am I going to do to keep myself entertained? Then, I stopped. Why do I feel the need to entertain myself when I am doing a routine task? What am I so afraid of? Is it boredom? Expending a little more energy? Being by myself? Because right now, watching Pretty Little Liars on Netflix (guilty…) is hardly a source of inspiration or fulfillment.
In all seriousness, I am bewildered about why we feel we need to be entertained all day long in one way or another. At least for me, I know that I feel like a mealtime is wasted if I don’t have a book or a blog in front of me, and cutting up vegetables is the perfect time to catch up on some TV. Not to mention, waiting in the grocery line means checking Facebook, Twitter, email, Instagram, and text messages. However, I have spent more time alone recently on my walks in the woods and have started to realize that I spend so much time multi-tasking that I am losing the simplicity and ultimately losing myself.
For the next little bit, I am doing an experiment to truly be present in the moment. Itty bitty steps. When I clean the kitchen or do other seemingly mundane tasks, I am going to do them fully. Even passionately. I recently read an article from Marie Torleo about finding your passion, and one of the ways she suggests is to bring passion into all of your activities. So dishes, prepare to get washed.
I am going to continue this for a little while, and I will report back on any noteworthy insight. I have also limited myself to checking social media only three times per day—if that sounds like a lot, you should see how many times I engage the app on my phone. It’s amazing whenever I remove social media and other time-killers, the inspiration seems to flow out of empty space. Another goal: meditate for at least a minute every day (like I said, baby steps).
We are bombarded with messages constantly. I’d say about time I give my brain some rest from the external messages and start opening to the internal ones. Feel free to join me.