I read this article tonight after my sister, Kate, posted it to facebook. While I have not felt the desperate desire to be alone the way the author is describing, I have been noticing lately how I am constantly distracting myself from just being alone with my thoughts. I decided to stop watching TV/movies for Great Lent, and while I have succeeded in that, I find myself filling up the time I would be watching with mindless screen time of another sort : thumbing through FB/instagram, researching recipes, checking the news, or playing solitaire. If I am in the car I'm immediately turning on NPR or music or a podcast.
My New Years Resolution was to be more mindful-- to pay attention to my actions, question my inaction, and to generally be more thoughtful. Ironically I haven't thought about the resolution very much after making it. While meditation is not for me-- I don't like the idea of striving to empty your mind of thoughts... My idea instead was to try and turn over and examine my thoughts-- rejecting the bad or destructive ones and encouraging the good and filling the gaps with prayer. I also wanted to stay productive. I really believe that a person in motion stays in motion. Action begets action. Inaction drains your motivational energies.
When I did Outward Bound the first time when I was a sophomore in high school, part of the course was to do "solo". You are dropped off far away from anyone else on an island with something to sleep on, a tarp to make shelter, a bag of trail mix, and absolutely nothing to distract you-- no electronics, no books-- for two days and two nights. You are left with only your thoughts and journal to write them down in.
I snuck a book on my solo. It was A Tree Grows In Brooklyn and it was probably the tenth time I had read it. All I did was catch up on sleep and read. I don't think I journaled one thing. I don't think I even thought very much.
After reading that article tonight, I put my son to bed as the sun was setting. Alex left to go to his Tuesday night choir practise and I would have usually settled onto the couch to have some mindless screen time. Instead I picked up the entire downstairs in silence as the light faded through the windows. I didn't turn on any lights, instead lit a candle, and continued until the house felt fresh for tomorrow. I retrieved the stamped letters I had accidentally thrown in the recycling and I walked to the end of our long driveway to mail them. I took my time, took in deep breaths of the chilly new spring air, listened to the geese honking in the distance, saw the tree tops wave in the wind, and searched until I found the first twinkling stars of dusk. I read somewhere once that to be mindful just means to take the moment that you are in and one at a time acknowledge what your senses are experiencing.
That 3 minute walk was just delicious. I think I will make it a nightly routine.
