I want to live some place where calla lilies grow like weeds, on the side of the row, free for the picking. This particular lily is in Venezuela, where I spent the past 10 days, biking, hiking and exploring the Venezuelan Andes. And now it is spring, well, feels like summer on this freak warm March day, and time to spring clean, the house, the mind, the soul.
It reminds me to revisit my goals, to make new goals, and get rid of old goals, the ones that I’ve outgrown. Having goals gives me inspiration, a plan, something to anticipate, to look forward to. I recently reminded my students of the importance of setting goals, and mapping out the steps to achieve those goals especially as they approach graduation.
I need to do it just as much as they do.
I’ve been thinking about my goals a lot lately. Like many people I know, my life is consumed by busy-ness, and I want that to change. I also want to live someplace where bougainvillea grows. And both of these things are not going to happen overnight.
So there’s the long, long-term plan (to relocate someplace warm) and the many shorter term plans, the things that I hope to do sooner, than later.
Some goals are yearly, like running 1000 miles, trying to read a book every week or two, making art/writing creatively everyday, and having a girl date every week or two. Other goals are multi-yeared, like tenure, or down the road, like getting a Fulbright. But I think about them. I write about them, and I start to make plans.
But none of these goals address that bigger one, how to minimize that feeling of busy-ness. The older I get, the more I seek quiet–this helps with the busy-ness. So I silence the radio in my car. I sit in meditation. I attempt to walk and run mindfully in the woods. I choose to be alone, to stay home, to find the quiet.
Finding time in my day to focus on the third eye, to breathe, to sit, becomes my heroin, the fix I need to get my bliss, and this becomes the greatest goal of all.
What do you do to minimize the busy-ness? What are your goals?
This morning I read an article by Sally Adee, that was originally published in New Scientist, discussing her experience after donning a “thinking cap” or a what U.S. military researchers call the “transcranial direct current stimulation” (tDCS). This cap eliminates that chatter, that incessant noise in the brain, the negative self-talk and allows the person wearing it to focus, ready to solve any problem that might come up next. Sure, I can get to this place while meditating, but how do I sustain that place everyday, all day?