It's a Small-ish World

It may not seem like it to you,  but after some 40-odd trips around the sun, my world is getting smaller and smaller all the time.   It's understandable that you hadn't noticed because you don't know anything about me yet.  And I wish I could say it was my debt or my body fat percentage that was getting smaller but no such luck.

And realistically, how much smaller can my little planet get?  

I live alone. (Well, alone with my old cat and a couple of  tenants who live downstairs).  I rent myself out to a small independent high school as a guidance counsellor and teacher.  I don't have cable for my television,  I don't read newspapers or magazines and I've just reduced my work world from two jobs to one.  I have a few close, warm-hearted friends and an extended family that gathers on cue for the socially acceptable family holiday meals. Within walking distance from my little self-made sanctuary, there are many simple pleasures that nourish me; second-hand book stores, coffee shops, my yoga studio, a farmer's market, a city park and community meeting place for outdoor musical festivals.  And I meditate almost daily to build my capacity for attention and stillness.

With the simplicity of my seemingly charmed, charmed life, why is that I still get overwhelmed?   Is it that I'm primarily an introvert and I rely on my daily extroverted outbursts to propel me through my day?   Or do I simply have a lower tolerance for the grinding of the daily grind?  And, if this is so, what else could I possibly take away to simplify my already small world?  What other distractions or stimulants could I remove?

For this past two years, I have been working full-time at the school while training for my yoga instructor's certification and then teaching yoga classes two nights a week. Occasionally at school, there are evening or weekend events I have been required to attend as well as the regular lesson planning, marking and reporting duties.  So when I added training, preparing for and teaching yoga two nights a week, my life became all about the work.

For awhile, it was all so exciting and energizing.  I felt alive, full of purpose and in complete command of my future.  Gradually, my days became more about productivity and less about people.   More about efficiency and less about relating.

The benefit of the ensuing exhaustion for me was clear.  It meant that I didn't have time to do anything but work and sleep.  There was no in-between world.  No time to build and risk intimacy in any relationships.  No time to listen to my body.   No time to admit fears.   No time to notice whether or not what I was doing was out of passion, compulsion or default.  No time to risk failure or success.  No time to grow in knowledge of myself and my unhelpful patterns of living.  No time to breath deeply from my belly.  No time to be present.

This blog is the first step to taking the risk of doing nothing.  Okay so yes, I'm writing and that is doing something but writing is the one thing I've been saying that I have not had time to do because of work.   This is as close to doing nothing as I get, for now.

One small step, one deep breath.