I’m starting to realize an unsettling Something and I’m just gonna put it out there. We humans avoid self-reflection on purpose by staying so damn busy all the time.
We have full-time jobs, chores, obligations, and errands that must be done. We squeeze in time with family and friends when we can. We fit in exercise and passions, only if there’s time. We are glued to all of the shiny things the Internet has to offer—social media, blogs, news, recipes, the occasional celebrity gossip.
We have so much information available to us at any given moment. In fact, we carry a handheld device around with us to feed our hungry minds.
But, where are we in all of this? Treading water until we get so exhausted that we begin to sink.
Rather than drowning, I took matters into my own hands last year and tried a blogging and social media break, a clean mind sweep for two months. It’s my little way of going to a deserted island without leaving home.
This year, I only did a month. And, I came back.
But see, I meant to come back on October 1st. Then the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th went by quietly. At the end of my hiatus last month, I didn’t feel ready to come back. Not at all.
For inspiration I went back to my hiatus post to see if I completed my mission. I said…Most of all, I simply want to be.
It’s funny, because “being” isn’t simple at all. In fact, it’s effing hard.
I battled my ridiculous desire to check-in daily with my blog and social media accounts. Even with my email notifications turned off, muscle memory tricked me into pulling up Facebook on my laptop one night and Twitter on my phone another time during my lunch break. I quickly exited both times.
I realized the absent-minded habit I now possessed and yes, it was pretty freaky. I did my best to unlearn these habits and attempted to “simply be”.
That’s where things got a little dicey.
Every day I meditated peacefully in a forest, smiling as I reflected on the beauty within myself and the world around me. Not really.
When I wasn’t busy working and all the rest of it, I used my spare time to question what the hell I was doing with my life.
Mostly, I was coming down after self-publishing my third book, Nola Fran Evie. “Another book out, and still no signs of fame and fortune,” she thought sarcastically.
Also, broadcasting my personal life on blogging and social media started to make me shudder. Though I try to come from a place of good, is what I’m putting out into the world actually meaningful? Or, am I just another chick with first world problems talking about herself and taking selfies?
It was a rough week, needless to say. But then, Mr. H drove my sorry ass to the beach and this happened…
I stood in the sand and watched the sea, and guess what? I didn’t need to search or attempt, because I started that “simply be” thing I’ve been yapping about. I stopped getting down on myself and chose instead to see the good in me.
That moment I knew that I was doing alright with life.
My hiatus was coming to an end. The big comeback blog post was looming. Shit.
I didn’t know what to write about—me, the girl who calls herself a writer. I wasn’t ready to deal with all of the waiting notifications and updates. I wanted to stay away, to keep my mystery, to viciously protect that small piece of me I found in September.
At 8am I woke up to the sound of a trombone farting. Seriously.
Sunday morning. In the city. Trombone farts.
I wasn’t thrilled about it either, because I was having one of those lovely adult dreams you don’t want to wake up from—if you know what I mean. In the dream I was in the shower and my hunky husband was about to get in with me, then…trombone fart.
That brassy bastard.
My eyes flew open. The trombone farted proudly once again. What the hell?
Apparently, the Portland Marathon is today. Besides downtown, the route goes through our neighborhood as well. Two streets down there’s a block party with dance music and for some ungodly reason…trombone farts.
Surrendering to our fate, Mr H. and I put on some headphones and began our Sunday routine, drinking coffee in our chairs. I opened my laptop, then my WordPress page. I directed my mouse over to “Posts” and clicked on “Add New”.
My fingers started dancing across the keyboard, typing this nonsense. And, I was smiling big the whole time.
I came back.