I have a dear friend from New Zealand who has a lovely phrase to describe what it feels like to be in a state of disarray. I might ask how she is doing during a hectic time and hear, “I’m all over the show.” It makes me smile, and it’s exactly how I feel right now. All. Over. The. Show.
My path over the past six months has been a swinging pendulum, shifting from an intense, “I need to figure this out!” state to a more relaxed, “I am not in a rush” mentality. Like all things, my sweet spot is likely in the middle, somewhere between stress-induced activity and apathetic-floating; however, settling into this middle feels elusive.
I tend to put pressure on certain events, expecting them to bring clarity. Our recent month-long adventure was just that, an adventure, an experience filled with individual moments of learning, fun, simplicity, being, exploring. Yet, at some level, I expected to return from the trip with a new lease on life and a beacon of clarity pulling me toward what’s next. I read about people emerging from such life events feeling rejuvenated, clear-headed and ready to take on the world. Wow! That must be nice. I want “that.”
What I am learning, at least for me, is that “that” doesn’t reveal itself all at once. It’s easier, months or years later, to reflect back on an experience and condense all of the blurriness into a crisp, compact image. But the reality is that seeing clearly and refining the blurriness requires in-the-moment work. It doesn’t just happen. Instead, we develop clarity through reflection and introspection.
I recently finished the book Stillness is the Key by Ryan Holiday which prompted several revelations, a couple of which relate to how being “in it” feels right now.
1. Reflection
This quote made me realize how quickly I can move from thing to thing without taking time to reflect, to focus on the value of any given experience and how it helps chart our path forward:
“ ‘If I was to sum up the single biggest problem of senior leadership in the Information Age,‘ four star Marine Corps general and former secretary of defense James Mattis has said, ‘it’s lack of reflection. Solitude allows you to reflect while others are reacting. We need solitude to refocus on prospective decision-making, rather than just reacting to problems as they arise.’ ”
I came back from the trip feeling fulfilled and also like I couldn’t see the beacon. Wasn’t that supposed to be waiting for me as my reward for such an experience? This quote made me think: Had I reflected? Had I put in the work to determine what about the trip felt impactful and what that could mean for the future? Not really, no.
Like I try to teach my kids, our reward and growth comes from our effort. It’s not about the outcome. I needed to put in the effort.
How often do we move on from our experiences, not giving them time to sink in nor the deep thinking they warrant to be truly impactful? We are busy, this kind of work can feel uncomfortable and takes lots of brain power. Instead, we often opt for the path of least resistance, readily moving onto the next thing.
If I give myself space to reflect on our adventure, there are some rising themes:
I thrive in simplicity. When camping, you bring what you need and then use everything you bring. Despite a whole houseful of things at home, there was nothing I missed. I didn’t mind wearing the same 5 shirts, or cooking in a tiny kitchen with 3 inches of counter space. Simplicity feels easy, there are fewer decisions to make, limited clutter.
I crave routine. For 30+ days, I developed simple little routines that I came to look forward to when I went to sleep each evening: waking up to my puppy alarm clock, our stroll around the campground followed by making coffee and sitting in the coziness of our camper while my boys slept, packing lunches, organizing the car, washing clothes in a bucket.
My perspective on the future has shifted. Concentrated time with our kids focused our attention on where they are in life, what they need and where they can grow. I want their needs at the forefront of what comes next, not only mine.
These things are more subtle than what I was expecting, yet they are just what I needed and can help guide next steps. I don’t think I would have found them had I not taken time to reflect.
Now, what do I act on as a result of this? I may not be able to replicate the same routines I lived while camping, but I know that I need them. I can simplify and clear clutter. I can make decisions about what comes next by looking through the lens of my kids.
Next is incremental.
2. Escapism
As I was reading about the value of hobbies and leisure activities for generating stillness, I felt bolstered, like I was somehow earning an “A” for that part of the book. “Check!” I thought. “I’ve got lots of those. I love to run, ride my bike, travel, read.” Then I continued reading.
“Of course, leisure can easily become an escape, but the second that happens it’s not leisure anymore. When we take something relaxing and turn it into a compulsion, it’s not leisure, because we’re no longer choosing it.”
Self-awareness had just hit me over the head. I can feel myself putting off work I truly want and need to do in favor of one more bike race or one more adventure. I hear myself saying, “We have an open weekend, let’s go camp.” OR “I’ll do that AFTER I finish this book,” even though I know I could use an open weekend or that I will promptly pick up the next book and say the same thing.
“That’s the difference between leisure and escapism. It’s the intention.”
If I am honest, I can tell when something is true leisure vs. a delay tactic, an excuse or a distraction. So now I have a new question to ponder before engaging in something I enjoy: What’s my intention in pursuing this activity?
Being “in it” has given me the luxury of time to live in the blurriness and figure out how to focus. We can’t always do it in the moment, sometimes we need a little distance, a little reflection to make something crisp.
During a recent movie night with my kids, my son was adjusting the focus on the projector and asked, “Why does it even have this focus wheel?” I told him that the lens needed to be more open or closed based on its closeness to the screen. And that holds true in life. Depending on our proximity to whatever it is we wish to see, we need to focus our attention in such a way that we can see past the blurriness and adjust to what matters. That takes reflection. It requires intention.
My goal with this “in it” series continues to be sharing how a transition feels in real time without the refinement of my future perspective. It’s messy, confusing and humbling. It’s also fun, freeing and enlightening.
It truly is “all over the show.”