The Art of Being Still

It's been years since I have been so captivated by a book that it calls to me from across the room. Just last week I crawled out of bed at midnight to read Snag in the Weave by LK Hadley, then crawled back in at 2 am because I was too scared to sleep alone. Few authors have captured my attention long enough for me to fall into their adventure—Nicholas Sparks, JK Rowling, and now, LK Hadley.

Today's authors have new competition, and it isn't television or social media—it's our attention deficit addiction. I've observed that since the advent of social media and the 24-hour news cycle, and the incursion of whiplash inducing tweet storms, people—myself included—have struggled to pay attention to any one thing for more than 140 characters worth of time. That's a slight exaggeration of course, but even 90-minute movies and 40-minute television shows have to be that much more compelling to get us to focus without looking at our phones intermittently. We are constantly bombarded with new information flying at us like Hitchcock's birds. I duck and weave, desperately wanting it all to go away and leave me alone, then I feel guilty when I sit still long enough to read a few uninterrupted pages in a book.

In 2015 I wrote Permission to Idle, a blog about the relationship between idleness and productivity. I reflect on it often because I strive to be a productive, guilt-free idler. When I take time to idle, I am exceedingly more productive than I would be otherwise. I proved this to myself during my 500-mile trek across Spain. But where does the guilt come from? My Itty Bitty Shitty Committee? My seemingly inherent belief that productivity means tangible deliverables?

Writing requires commitment, focus, and the time and space to produce. It also includes time to be "idle", mull things over, and read. I have to create space for this to happen otherwise my apparent addiction to information blitzes and distractions undermines any chance I have to develop a consistent stream of conscious from which to draw from.

Relaunching this blog sets a new intention that makes me accountable to others. I need that. I am a person who lets myself off the hook easily when it comes to pretty much everything: diet, exercise, writing time, you name it. I can say I won't eat a doughnut then pass by Top Pot and the idea of not having a doughnut becomes a laughable absurdity. When I am accountable to others, I do better.

Throughout this past week I walked through my days a little more mindful and aware. I paid more attention to ideas that repeated as if they were calling out to me–like Snag in the Weave–calling out ... in the moor ... in the peat ...  to be still.