When I look back at day planners and calendars from my younger years (not usually a wise way of passing the time) I marvel at how much I used to do in a single day. Waking early for breakfast before class, finishing a reading due just before the course started, three or four classes in a row, rushing to a commuter rail into Boston to work a retail shift from 5 to 9 PM, scarfing down dinner amid some more reading for school, trying to hammer out homework on the commuter rail back to campus at 10:40 PM, then showering and trying to finish more schoolwork – it makes my head spin.
The idea that some nights I would skip the 10:40 PM commuter rail and wait for a 12:30 AM train just to have a couple more hours in Boston boggles my mind. If I tried that today I’d be dead.
Contrasted with my days now, that life of busy business feels far away, and largely foolish. What really came of such busyness and all the rushing around? Graduation from Brandeis? Big deal. A retail job I could hold down and do well? Bigger deal. A day in which every hour and minute was filled with being busy for the sake of being busy? Biggest fucking deal of all.
These days I find more value and worth in simply taking a quiet day and mindfully meandering through it – a walk in the garden, a spell of reading on the couch, a bit of writing while sipping a cup of hot tea. I didn’t realize then how much being busy was simply filling a void that could have better been spent meditating or working on calming the runaway train of thoughts that once barreled through my mind. It still chugs along at varying speeds, but I’m better at enjoying the ride rather than worrying about whether it’s going to fly off the rails. And perhaps that’s just me getting older and a little wiser.
It’s a lifestyle change that has made me more calm. It feels strange – because all that running around and going non-stop was always in the purpose of finding contentment. That peace was within me the whole time – I simply hadn’t paused to find it, and hear it, and truly listen to it.
