Social Media Saucha

"Think less, do more."  That has been my motto for a while now, as I’ve become increasingly aware of a deeply-engrained habit that consists of thinking through every conceivable possibility before (a) deciding to actually DO (or not do) whatever it is I’m considering or (b) curling up in a ball and putting off any decision or action until I’m in a more stable place from which to properly evaluate how this decision will potentially effect my entire life.  You may see how this creates a self-perpetuating cycle of procrastination, hence the need for the “think less, do more” mantra.

Recently, thanks to the favorable alignment of the planets (or maybe it’s the hopeful scent of spring in the air) I’ve been feeling a bit more motivated to not only get organized, but to take actual steps towards bringing my lofty goals and colorful dreams  out of my busy-little head and into the world.  


Of course, the first step is to sit still for long enough to get some clarity on what exactly those dreams are.  But there I go again with that exacting, need-to-know, black-or-white trap that gets me caught in the same procrastination game!  How about a new approach:  find some time to practice doing nothing, sitting still to let the general shape, flavor, and textures of my hopes and dreams start to emerge, without instantly needing to define them and restrict them to self-drawn boundaries…yeah, that’s more like it.  And based on how I’m feeling lately, a more consistent meditation practice – carving out time to practice non-doing – is  definitely helping to clear (or maybe just see more clearly) the clutter of my brain.  Revised mantra:  "Don’t just do something, sit there!"


And yet, even with the good intentions to practice self-awareness through yoga & meditation, to take care of my physical body, and to maintain clean, organized spaces in my home and workplaces so that I can more actively create the life I want, there are still so many distractions!  Granted, we all need a break sometimes.  I’m not berating myself for turning on the tube for an episode of Nova or Glee (depending on my mood), watching TED or YouTube videos on my laptop, or catching up with who’s-doing-what on Facebook. While none of these things are inherently good or bad, I am starting to become more aware of how I use them...for comfort, relaxation, in moments of boredom, sometimes just to distract myself from anxiety or some other task that I am avoiding, even if that very task is taking a step towards a goal that I am passionate and excited about!  Why would I do this? 

Habit.  Because there are so many options, so many entertaining, easily-accessible ways to distract myself, and because I’m not really paying attention all the time, because I’m practicing living mindfully, which means I’ll never get it down perfectly.  But here’s the thing:  there is a difference between making a conscious choice to go out to see a movie, to sit and relax for an hour-long t.v. program vs. losing track of time while clicking away through photos and status updates on Facebook.  And if I am practicing awareness – if I’m truly not caught up in the clutter of my mind – I know the difference.

But seeing as I’m a novice here, and life is busy and hectic enough as it is, I’m gonna make it a little easier on myself.  Because I do have some dreams and ideas I’d like to get working on (make a website, update this blog, write more in general, play more music, work on my stand-up comedy act,  create collaborative, public performance art, spread love far and wide…), and I need some help in clearing out the distractions, or at least just one.  


They say that it takes 21 days to form a new habit (or to break an old one?), so from April 10-30th, I’m taking a hiatus from social media.  No Facebook (which is really the only thing I use regularly), and a generally more conscious approach to any internet-based work/searching I’ve got to do.  I’m curious to see how it might change my days, my thoughts, my productivity. After all, conquering the world with fun love is a pretty serious commitment!   


Will my deepest desires and inner light finally get the attention and space to grow and blossom to their full potential?  Will I celebrate the completion of my social-media fast on May 1^st with an update on my Facebook profile?  We’ll just have to wait and see…

Hope from the Hopis

I just stood in the exact place where I was standing on 9/11 when I watched the first tower fall.  

I’m not much for reliving the events of that day.  I was there, it was insanity, I prefer to live in the here and now, thank you very much.  But here I am, still working at the same job, in the same building on Broadway eight years later, and I guess the day just wanted some acknowledgment from me.  

It started with looking at some amazing photographs of the Twin Towers pre-destruction.  (I am in love with one shot that must’ve been taken from an airplane, just above the blanket of clouds, the tippy-tops of the towers barely poking through, piercing the heavens in all their glory.)  

A short conversation with co-workers later, we had all agreed that New Yorkers (ourselves included) are not necessarily hard-hearted, but rather just generally too busy with whatever we have on our plates today to stop for a full-blown memorial celebration every September 11^th.  It’s not that we don’t care, we’ve just moved on to the next thing.  That’s what New Yorkers do. 

Later, I was having trouble focusing on my work, and thought the project I was working on could be more easily accomplished if I took pen to paper, rather than sit in front of the glowing computer screen any longer.  I grabbed some coffee, a notebook and some colored pens, and headed up to the Greenhouse:  our company’s cafeteria, complete with ceiling to floor windows looking out on a beautifully-landscaped roof terrace, overlooking southern Manhattan. 

As I sat down and uncapped my blue pen, I turned to look out the windows on this blustery, grey day and realized that this is where I was.  I am in the same place, again.  This was the same view.  Well, almost. 

Suddenly, I feel compelled to go up one flight to my old digs on the 12^th floor, where I spent my first few years at this company, to stand at the same place where I stood with co-workers in disbelief, in fear, in arms, in hands in tears in screams in confusion in compassion in hope in sadness on that day eight years ago.

Walking down the hallway of the 12^th floor, there are empty offices and unfamiliar faces sitting at the desks previously occupied by colleagues and friends, until I reach my old cube at the farthest end of the hallway, which is now empty, abandoned, dark.   This was where I sat when I received the flurry of concerned emails – punctuated by my mother’s miraculous phone calls (nobody was getting through that day) – on that September morning. 

I don’t linger at my old desk for long, and instead make my way to the windows near the elevators, the spot where I stood as the first majestic tower disappeared before our eyes, before we were evacuated and left to wander the streets until we were able to figure out what to do next.

And as I stand there, looking out the window, I remember. 

 

A few minutes later, peering out the rainy window and trying to conjure up the image of what the towers looked like, my vision brings something else into focus: two twin water towers, just beyond this window, standing side by side.  Nothing spectacular, certainly not in comparison to magnitude that was the WTC, but there they are, and they’ve probably been here the whole time. 

And so I am back, in this moment, on this day, seeing what is in front of me now – the mundane, the easily-overlooked – with wonder at how easy it is to miss it all.  How easy it is to think we have it all under control, to believe we know what’s coming next, to fantasize about our future lives, future loves, future accomplishments, and to miss what is right in front of us, how blessed we are to have this moment, this life, this day.

As my mind rolls around with questions of how to balance presence in each moment with finding meaningful ways to honor the past, a tear escapes and rolls down my cheek and I have my answer. 

Then, another memory:  I remember learning of the Hopi Indians’ belief that when a person dies, their spirit is carried up to the clouds and falls again as rain, bringing moisture and new life to the land. 

Here, in New York City, it’s been raining all day.