Why do we crave distraction over downtime?
Why do we give up our sacred space so easily? Because space is scary. During these temporary voids of distraction, our minds return to the uncertainty and fears that plague all of us. To escape this chasm of self-doubt and unanswered questions, you tune into all of the activity and data for reassurance.
I am certainly one of those always connected people. iPhone, laptop, Facebook, email, text messages – all of that stuff. Yet the idea of sacred space is oddly appealing. For me, probably the closest I come are those rare walks without music playing through my headphones or strangely enough, sometimes when I am playing music. Amazingly I sometimes find my mind wandering and churning the big questions. I don’t even feel disconnected from the music at those moments, but the strangest thoughts and questions will cross my mind.
The article also says “Our insatiable need to tune into information–at the expense of savoring our downtime–is a form of “work” (something I call “insecurity work”) that we do to reassure ourselves.”
I know this one too. Sometimes when I have difficulty focusing on the task at hand, it is all to easy to fuss with Facebook, read news on Google or otherwise avoid what I really want to do.
It is scary to be alone with your thoughts sometimes. It is scary to have to produce something. In a weird kind of a way, all that distraction and noise we generate for ourselves actually calms us down but without really producing true calm.
I had an interesting conversation last night with someone who writes poetry. I asked where I could read some of it and none of it was published. I asked about self-publishing via a free blog. My sense was that this was not considered as an option by the poet because of shyness. That got me thinking about creativity and how often we feel inhibited to express ourselves if we don’t think we hit a certain standard. I have been guilty of this myself, but as a musician, I am trying my best to not let those feelings actually prevent me from expressing myself musically in the way that moves me. There is a beauty to finding a way to express yourself creatively, no matter how you do it, and I think it is sad that we allow ourselves to become such harsh self-critics that we deny ourselves the joy of that expression.
I know I won’t hit the standards of the musicians that inspire me but it shouldn’t stop me from expressing myself musically in my own way, the best that I can do that. I may not be ready to “quit my day job” just yet, but the joy and depth of feeling that music (or poetry or any art) can bring to the performer (maybe even the audience too) is something not to be missed.
I spend a lot of time at work on communication. It is amazing how easily two people in the same room can speak with each other and walk away with totally opposite views of what happened. I find it hard to truly believe that most people are so dishonest and disingenuous that their statements are simply lies. Once you arrive at the point of “He said, she said”, you have already lost. If there is one area that I find myself working the hardest in, this might it!
Today someone said to me, “The flip side of being trustworthy is trusting”. That got me thinking about how hard it is to trust someone else yet how easily we expect others to trust us. For most of us, it is probably harder to trust someone else than to be trustworthy ourselves.
In The Laws of Simplicity John Maeda discusses trust and uses the example of the omakase or “chef’s menu”. Another example he gives is Google’s “I’m feeling lucky” button. These are fairly easy ways to let ourselves trust someone else. It becomes harder as the stakes rise.
Lately, I seem to be very focused on increasing the level of trust that others have in my department at work. It goes hand in hand with communication and providing actual results. Part of that process also put me in the position of having to increase the trust I have in others. The latter is much harder yet the irony of how easily I might expect others to extend that to me is not lost.
At the Bridge Concert, Neil Young, Stephen Stills, and Richie Furay reunited for this Buffalo Springfield classic. It follows “I Am A Child” in the video below.
I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness lately. Such an essential quality yet at times it seems so hard to come by. At work, people seem surprised when I use that word.
If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion. ~Dalai Lama
