Staying in the Moment

Chaos has fueled the desire for a life so full of routine that boredom ensues. I've always thought it would help to stay in the same place for a very long time, and, though I suspect that someday I'll experience death by routine, it's yet to hit my radar. 

My quest for a life of routine is partly about channeling the fluctuations of emotion and energy that make up daily life. On that front, I aim for a  daily walk along the river. Recouping from a recent injury, grateful for mobility, I ambled off listening to a conversation from On Being about noticing the moment-- an exercise to look for five new things about a person you talk to everyday caught my interest. Since there was no office to duck into after the show, I tried to notice new things around me-- the leaves starting to turn though it's August,  a few of those fluorescent yellow and black birds still fluttering about town, and that some people smile on the bike path, but they usually aren't wearing a headset.  One guy saw me trying to read his shirt. I knew he had put it on mindlessly when he pulled it out in front of himself to read it. His shirt had a Chinese character on it, and I don't think either of us knew the kanji's meaning. 

The discipline of noticing is an effective tool for getting into the moment, but it's hard to stay there. 

Chaos has fueled the desire for a life so full of routine that boredom ensues. I've always thought it would help to stay in the same place for a very long time, and, though I suspect that someday I'll experience death by routine, it's yet to hit my radar. 

My quest for a life of routine is partly about channeling the fluctuations of emotion and energy that make up daily life. On that front, I aim for a  daily walk along the river. Recouping from a recent injury, grateful for mobility, I ambled off listening to a conversation from On Being about noticing the moment-- an exercise to look for five new things about a person you talk to everyday caught my interest. Since there was no office to duck into after the show, I tried to notice new things around me-- the leaves starting to turn though it's August,  a few of those fluorescent yellow and black birds still fluttering about town, and that some people smile on the bike path, but they usually aren't wearing a headset.  One guy saw me trying to read his shirt. I knew he had put it on mindlessly when he pulled it out in front of himself to read it. His shirt had a Chinese character on it, and I don't think either of us knew the kanji's meaning. 

The discipline of noticing is an effective tool for getting into the moment, but it's hard to stay there.