I intend this to be short (rereading it after the fact, it’s not)…. I’m thinking about flow. More specifically, I’m thinking about how I, and maybe other people, disrupt it – a self-sabotage of sorts. I was up and fed and through my morning routine pretty early. It was a nice morning to sit with my second cup of coffee and read. I grabbed the Hoagland books of poetry that I had finished – I’ve been trying to re-read some poems to see what sticks and continue to learn how to write about the everyday – how to find appropriate topics (poetry is everywhere). Then I remembered that I had one of his other books boxed away in a closet. When I moved in, I wasn’t reading nearly as much as I am now, and I certainly wasn’t reading much poetry. I was only supposed to be in the apartment for five months, maybe a little more, so I left the boxes of books taped up and stacked them neatly in a closet. Today I tore in to them searching.
Sadly, I think my memory failed me, no Hoagland book. I could swear I had one. The effort wasn’t without reward. I pulled a stack of other poetry books out. I grabbed three or four along with my cup of coffee and a throw blanket. I started in on Robert Hass. I’ve read some of his work before – in fact I think I’ve read a good bit of the book that I have. My ex-fiancee had a volume of his, and when I would read at her place, it was one of the books I gravitated towards.
No sooner had I finished the first or second poem, ideas and images began to percolate. My eye kept wandering over to the title of one of the other books in my stack, “Ranking the Wishes.” It’s one of the things I love about poetry – a simple phrase like that can be such a rich jumping off point. As I read about spring in northern California (Hass) and thought about what my wishes would be and how they would be ranked, I envisioned a cafe, sunlight, a seaside town – probably west coast. I thought about Asheville and the mountains. I jotted a few notes down. I re-read some of my notes from the other night. At that time, I was thinking about how memories can be like a painting – when focused on one it can burn bright but also be somewhat monochromatic. Once put in to a broader context, once placed among the other people and experiences, it’s like adding some other colors and blending for depth and richness.
I read a few more poems and came to a natural stopping point (in the book, not necessarily my thinking). And this is where the self-sabotage came in. Instead of sticking with it, maybe reading a little more, maybe jotting a few more thoughts down, I got up, walked over to the kitchen, put some music on and did the dishes. At that point, I had broken any sense of flow that I had. I had switched out of poetry mode. My mindset shifted. I looked at the clock and thought about when I’d get my run in, what I’d have for lunch, what time I might take a walk this evening. I was in factual mode, journal writing mode (if I was going to write at all). This was such a stark contrast to my vision of whiling away the hours in the morning sun at some distant cafe.
When I catch myself doing these things…. shifting in to “planning” mode or anticipatory mode, I sometimes force myself to break the habit. Yesterday as I walked down Union Avenue, I looked to cross the street, but there was traffic. I became aware of my habit of crossing almost as soon as I can (the sidewalk is closed on one side about two blocks up the road). The side I was on (the closed side) was sunnier, and arguably more pleasant and yet I kept having the urge to cross, kept checking the traffic. Suddenly, I felt myself fighting this urge and it felt like I was playing chicken with the sidewalk closed barrier that was still a block and a half away – how far would I go before crossing? I became acutely aware of how anticipating the next turn robs me of the current moment. This is my destination mindset. I need to get to the park so I can enjoy my walk…. never mind that the sun was shining on my face and I had nowhere to be. I’m trying to be more mindful of when this happens. I catch myself walking at a fast pace as if I have an appointment, when I’m really just making my way to the next thing. To be fair to myself, I suspect I’m pretty good at being mindful, present, and observant… but there are times when I see how I could be more present, less anticipatory.
These are some of the internal workings – the conflicts of little consequence. I’m unemployed, I have all day to do whatever I want. I should be thrilled with that type of freedom, I should take advantage of it and completely go with the flow – do whatever comes to mind….. but I become quite aware of how a day slips away (scrolling through news, swiping on dating profiles, puttering around). If I want to see a sunset, I need to be out at sunset. If I’m going to be out at sunset, I should probably figure out when I’ll eat dinner. If I’m eating beforehand, how do I want to spend my time between lunch and dinner. If I spend my morning reading and writing, when should I go for a run (if after lunch, I’ll need some time to digest). And what about coffee later? This type of thinking, is great when plans need to be made. But, I think it was a fundamental difference between how my ex-fiancee, B, moved through the world and how I moved through the world. I admired her “freedom.” I was hoping to learn from it. Unfortunately, I don’t think we were very good about communicating these differences. When she would get frustrated with my “planning,” I would respond by saying – “ok, then you need to drive for a while.” I think it’s why I enjoyed our trip to San Diego so much – I didn’t have to plan – I could let go and enjoy whatever it was she wanted to show me. This is the gentle growth that I thought we were capable of – complimentary differences. It’s like when she would tap my thumb which was tucked in to my fist and remind me to loosen up.
I can completely go with the flow if someone else is making the decisions. And, I’m really great at jumping on opportunities. There were plenty of times when people suggested spur of the moment things and I happily dropped everything and went along for the ride. But I have trouble doing that on my own, or when I’m responsible for others or for the game plan. The place I’m sometimes trying to get to is being more comfortable with not deciding any of these things until it’s time…. not planning my day so that I can see a sunset and accepting that tomorrow’s might be just as beautiful. I’m trying to be more comfortable with the idea that I’m not going to get to see all the sunsets and recognize that when you try to extract every drop of beauty or love or experience out of something, you sometimes miss the moment or the journey. It’s a delicate balance between a love for life and everything in it and the proper pacing and flow to accept the beauty around you and the absence of the things you don’t quite get to.