Learning to do less with more
How to stare at the wall in silence
Good morrow cousins! This week I discuss how Hurricane Helene taught me the benefits of staring at a wall in silence—a practice that I hope you will find useful! Let’s all put the “utility” back in futility!
If you like this, please “like” it, or share it, or leave me a comment. It is oh-so-kind of you, and tremendously helpful in getting it out there to new eyes.
As always, thank you muchly for being here and sharing your energetic field with mine! Cheers!
Songpairing
*** This is an ambient piece that was intentionally created to lessen anxiety by incorporating sound frequencies that have been shown to calm the nervous system. It could be useful this week, just sayin’… ***
For weeks I planned to lay down on my favorite couch and read my book during the day.
I’m a ‘go-go-go’-er who tends to squander the few brain breaks I take by scrolling, so I purposefully wrote it on my to-do list: lay on couch, read book.
Hot Tip: If you struggle with burn-out, try scheduling rest.
It never worked for me, as I just glazed right over it in favor of the next go-go-do-do thing. But maybe it will work for you.
Apparently, I must be forced to sit still.
(This is something I have in common with my children.)
I call this “let-me-just-itis” because my brain always says, “let me just [insert chore] and then I will finally [pleasurable activity].
But it keeps finding more things to do. My brain conspires against me by waiting until I am about to sit down before reminding me that I need to confirm a doctors appointment, or re-enroll my kid in winter sports, or change over the laundry etc.
[Enter Mother Nature, giving “hold my beer”]
A few weeks ago a hurricane descended on Atlanta. The street flooded, trees fell, power lines came down and thankfully, we’re all okay.
That being said, if you were to have walked outside of my home and turned left, the above is what you would have seen.
And if you were to have walked outside of my home and turned right, this would have been your contrasting view:
On on side: “apres moi, le deluge,” and on the other: The lines that connected us to the grid and the internet and the whole of civilization, were dangling—still live— all over the street and my driveway.
Taking a walk (or a wade) was not out of the question, but taking a car was. That alone eliminated several errands from my to-dos.
Speaking of a walk, that’s the first thing we did, and the energy in the air that morning was electric. Physically, it just felt like extra-fresh air, blown in from somewhere foreign that gave us all a burst of vitality.
I should point out that no one in my neighborhood was injured. Even the houses at the bottom of the hill were mostly undamaged because they are all on stilts (it’s a well-documented flood plane).
As a result, everyone in the neighborhood was outside, walking around, taking stock of the property damage and tacitly admiring the power of unseen forces. I live on a pretty busy street where there is not a lot of community interaction, but this morning was special because it felt like everyone in the neighborhood was coming together.
Even if we haven’t seen each other since the storm, I know they are there when it counts.
After an invigorating family walk, I turned back to my to-dos, immediately eliminating anything that required my laptop or keyboard/mic. I was left with laundry, dishes, vacuum, but there was no power…
However, ever the hustler, I washed the remaining dishes by hand. I find it hard to unwind with dishes in the sink, and thankfully we still had water— even if it was only available in cold.
And welp—that took care of the available to-do’s.
Now what?
….lay on the couch and read my book?
It was hard, but I did it! I made it a whole 40 minutes before I got up to tarry around with more nonsense chores.
Later that evening, I enjoyed some more downtime doing a puzzle by candlelight. 10/10 would recommend.
Then, we all went to bed and the power was on again by the morning.
The following day I saw the images of the wreckage and destruction in Western North Carolina. I read stories of children being washed away, folks clinging to trees for hours and entire neighborhood vanishing under water.
Yet here I was actively sabotaging my own enjoyment of this stupid little life, with artificial urgency and household tasks and chores.
Why do I have to be force-majeured to slow down?
I’ve had versions of this epiphany before. I’m sure you have too.
But then we always freaking forget!
However, I want to tell you about a practice I have implemented (before I forget again).
It occurred to me to see if I could sit and stare at the wall.
No phone, no book, no podcast, no music.
Just me and the wall.
How long could I stop and just exist?
The answer was three minutes.
A couple of days later I laid down on the couch and looked at the ceiling.
This time I made it for 10 minutes.
As someone who is so accustomed to filling every single second of my day with external stimuli and activity, this amounts to the mental strength training that I badly need.
AND I meditate!
However, even meditation often creeps into productivity territory. For instance, in meditation I seek to uncover childhood wounds, rewrite limiting subconscious beliefs, or to visualize outcomes I want to create.
There is always an overarching intention. There is always a goal to be working towards! And that’s the problem.
What if the goal is learning to exist without a goal?
I remember hearing a story about a man who sat on a park bench every day, all day. He didn’t bring a book, or a newspaper or a friend. He just sat there.
I wish I could remember where I heard this story, but I remember admiring his ability to do that, and perhaps it is what subconsciously inspired this latest practice.
However, one caveat— while I am all for staring up at the clear night sky, or into a beautiful vast expanse…
…when it comes to this exercise, the more boring the view, the better. The point is not to be impressed or inspired. It is just to be.
By the way, I’m up to 15 minutes. My life is busy and I don’t know that I’m going to stretch that more at this point, but it does provide a respite from my go-go-do-do lifestyle. It also feels like being plugged into a spiritual socket. You will be recharged.
So, if you find yourself suffering from let-me-just-itis, test your mental fortitude by staring at the wall for a few minutes.
Or do what I did, and wait for a catastrophe to force it on you.
Now your turn!
Do you also feel called to slow the eff down lately, or is it just me?
If so, how are you accomplishing this?
What external stimuli are you letting go of?
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I also live in other realms.
If you desire more of me, you may find my writing set to piano pop music in the following places:
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This weeks fascinating cultural miscellany:
I write a stealthstack on another topic dear to my heart, and that is criminal justice reform. I used to be an assistant district attorney and have seen many things in and around the criminal court system. If it floats your boat, I hope you’ll take a look at my big idea to reduce recidivism.
If anyone else is fascinated by the lives of women in the middle ages, this is a great resource. I particularly enjoyed this series on how women became more and more subjugated from the early to late middle ages.
Happy daylight savings time. Fall back bitches! May you not fritter away your extra hour like Amanda did writing this hysterical post!
I am so sorry it took me so long to dive into your substack. You are so amazing and I am so proud of you. I can't wait to really get inside that beautiful brain of yours. I will try staring at a wall this week. As soon as the Thanksgiving brigade leaves tomorrow and things normalize a bit.
I love the idea of learning to exist without a goal. I've been trying to take more walks where I just absorb my surroundings. It surprises me every time how difficult that can be.
Thank you for calling out my essay! I'm very glad I could spend part of my Extra Hour reading yours!