From A Balance Beam
Sometimes when you're preparing for something, you can get so caught up in the short term, that you lose focus of what is going on around you. The mind zooms in so close that it can count every fiber of the task at hand, an intensity in focus that is sometimes required for a project to be completed. The problem occurs when the body becomes absorbed into the high definition of the task at hand, and loses the perspective provided by the rest of the world.
Lately, I've been preparing for an interview - a health gig, concerning physical activity. After hours of research, writing and refining, I hit that point. The point where the mind has hit the maximum zoom, the point where no matter how hard you concentrate, you are devoid of new ideas. Like a cheap digital camera, once this point is hit, the more you try to zoom in, no new information is gained - you just have the tendency to blow things up.
My computer screen sat in front of me, tempting me to edit, refine and work late into the night. My shoes sat by the door, still muddy from a weekend run. The two objects could not have been more different. The screen, its bright lights and microprocessors promising speed and efficiency, trying to seduce me with billions of operations per second. The shoes, beaten up and silent, offered nothing more than companionship: unable to perform even one operation on their own. I was presented with a binary decision, the computer's power and task oriented 1's, versus the shoes' unpowered 0's. The choice was easy.
Before I knew it, I was outside. Save for the cold breeze rustling frozen trees, and my shoes keeping time, the world was silent. Perhaps hypnotized by the complimentarily rhythmic pattern of foot strikes and breathing, or maybe simply relishing in its newfound lack of responsibility, my mind was quiet. Despite having been sitting for most of the day, these miles were the most effortless action of the day.
Legs after all, are designed to move.
Lungs are designed to breathe.
A heart is designed to beat.
The feelings of silence continued for several miles. Although a watch was on my wrist, its ability to keep time went unnoticed. A watch after all is much like a computer; able to do work for us, its measurements unfailing in their digital precision. There is nothing digital about running. Each apparently effortless movement actually overflows with effort. Each step is slightly different than the last, these slight imperfections serving to perfect the movement.
Running is analogue, running is human.
Suddenly, without even noticing, I had reached that point. The point where no matter how hard you are working, you are full of new ideas.
I knew then, that I had found it. It is often written about, but never accurately captured. Undoubtedly physiological, and yet inherently spiritual, it is the moment where everything clicks. It is the moment where everything is interesting and anything is possible. It is the moment where time stands still. Rational logic, the kind that governs watches and computers, dictates that time cannot stand still. My shoes, however, governed only by my ability to make them move, do not believe in logic - they only believe in it.
I moved through the streets as if on autopilot. Before I knew it, I was standing back where I started. Apparently my shoes and I were done for the day. I walked around the block, appreciating my final few moments with it. It, you see, does not often follow you inside. As I took off my shoes, the noises of the world came back to me. My watch beeped instinctively, to remind me of the hour that had passed and the new hour just beginning. The computer screen flickered in the dark room, reiterating its promise of billions of effortless calculations. I took off my watch, and turned off the screen.
I knew everything I needed to know. The document I had prepared was now complete. It contained the same numbers and figures, the same objectives and plans of action as it had when I left it. What it had needed, were spirit and life. Spirit and life are not digital. Spirit and life exist only when we step out of our daily lives and remind ourselves what is important. It is important, and it is available to each and every one of us.... if only we would stop thinking and stop searching long enough to let it find us.
Lately, I've been preparing for an interview - a health gig, concerning physical activity. After hours of research, writing and refining, I hit that point. The point where the mind has hit the maximum zoom, the point where no matter how hard you concentrate, you are devoid of new ideas. Like a cheap digital camera, once this point is hit, the more you try to zoom in, no new information is gained - you just have the tendency to blow things up.
My computer screen sat in front of me, tempting me to edit, refine and work late into the night. My shoes sat by the door, still muddy from a weekend run. The two objects could not have been more different. The screen, its bright lights and microprocessors promising speed and efficiency, trying to seduce me with billions of operations per second. The shoes, beaten up and silent, offered nothing more than companionship: unable to perform even one operation on their own. I was presented with a binary decision, the computer's power and task oriented 1's, versus the shoes' unpowered 0's. The choice was easy.
Before I knew it, I was outside. Save for the cold breeze rustling frozen trees, and my shoes keeping time, the world was silent. Perhaps hypnotized by the complimentarily rhythmic pattern of foot strikes and breathing, or maybe simply relishing in its newfound lack of responsibility, my mind was quiet. Despite having been sitting for most of the day, these miles were the most effortless action of the day.
Legs after all, are designed to move.
Lungs are designed to breathe.
A heart is designed to beat.
The feelings of silence continued for several miles. Although a watch was on my wrist, its ability to keep time went unnoticed. A watch after all is much like a computer; able to do work for us, its measurements unfailing in their digital precision. There is nothing digital about running. Each apparently effortless movement actually overflows with effort. Each step is slightly different than the last, these slight imperfections serving to perfect the movement.
Running is analogue, running is human.
Suddenly, without even noticing, I had reached that point. The point where no matter how hard you are working, you are full of new ideas.
I knew then, that I had found it. It is often written about, but never accurately captured. Undoubtedly physiological, and yet inherently spiritual, it is the moment where everything clicks. It is the moment where everything is interesting and anything is possible. It is the moment where time stands still. Rational logic, the kind that governs watches and computers, dictates that time cannot stand still. My shoes, however, governed only by my ability to make them move, do not believe in logic - they only believe in it.
I moved through the streets as if on autopilot. Before I knew it, I was standing back where I started. Apparently my shoes and I were done for the day. I walked around the block, appreciating my final few moments with it. It, you see, does not often follow you inside. As I took off my shoes, the noises of the world came back to me. My watch beeped instinctively, to remind me of the hour that had passed and the new hour just beginning. The computer screen flickered in the dark room, reiterating its promise of billions of effortless calculations. I took off my watch, and turned off the screen.
I knew everything I needed to know. The document I had prepared was now complete. It contained the same numbers and figures, the same objectives and plans of action as it had when I left it. What it had needed, were spirit and life. Spirit and life are not digital. Spirit and life exist only when we step out of our daily lives and remind ourselves what is important. It is important, and it is available to each and every one of us.... if only we would stop thinking and stop searching long enough to let it find us.
posted by sobe at
2:49 PM
|
1 comments
