That’s what a friend, who is in rehab, told me during a phone call recently. He’s right, and addiction can feel like living at 100 mph every hour of every day.
That made me think about the quiet addiction many of us suffer from. It’s one we often wear as a badge of honor—busyness.
Conversations about how busy we are remind me of Monday morning conversations I hear from my college students—about who drank the most. We are constantly comparing our busyness to someone else’s, seeing where we rank.
It’s a competition where nobody wins.
But I, like so many, had succumbed to the pull of that addiction many years ago. And this summer, I was definitely feeling the strain of living that way. It wasn’t until I heard a friend talking about her vacation to Hawaii, until I saw how calm her energy was, how bright her eyes were, that I knew I had a problem.
And I wanted to do something about it.
I decided to take a 48-hour silent retreat in my own home. The rules were no talking, no technology, no work.
Now, I know folks who do 10-day or six-month silent retreats, so this feels like the training-wheel edition of a silent retreat. Still, I got to experience its quiet gifts and undeniable magic, and I had some epiphanies of my own along the way.
1). My dogs are like thoughts, and my thoughts are like dogs.
As I was sitting on my meditation bench, my two dogs would come up and lick me. Their toenails would click, click, click on the wooden floor, and their collars would constantly jangle. They would bark at squirrels, neighbors, motorcycles.
I would sit there with my eyes closed and with my a$$ chewing gum. It was their fault that I was being distracted and pulled out of my deep meditation! Couldn’t they just shut their puppy chow holes?
I paused—and realized I usually wasn’t deep in meditation. I was lost in a memory. Or worrying about something. Or trying to remember I needed to buy oats and bran flakes and pickles. Oh my!
2). Habits are like freeways.
Habits mean we don’t even have to think or pay attention. We just go fast—the way we’ve always gone. Sometimes, this is good. Think brushing your teeth. Sometimes, not so much.
Something else. Habits privilege the past. They don’t give you the time, space, or curiosity to privilege the new and the now. So, what if, once in a while, we try to be a Side-Road Bob—go the slow way, the long way, the weird way and see what oddities and delights life offers up?
3). It’s about the small choices.
Drop a small choice here, then watch the ripples dance out from there. Do this again and again. Get the good energy flowing in the right direction. Expect positive outcomes.
4). Turn to what is quiet and near, familiar and safe when you are overwhelmed.
Find the simplest way to meet the need. Maybe that’s a blanket. A cup of tea. A nap. An old picture that makes you smile.
5). Make the good irresistible.
I gave myself lots of dark chocolate during these 48 hours. I took two baths. I read thoughtful books that made my soul feel better. I also read an entire mystery novel in one sitting. It got me out of my head and lost in someone else’s plot line for a while.
It’s easy to let busyness—and technology—rule our lives. It’s easy to think we have to go 100 mph. But as I sat there nibbling on my dark chocolate and tried to figure out whodunnit, I thought to myself, “It’s sweet to stop. Sit. Settle.”
That’s why I can’t wait to get my quiet on and do it again soon.
Live light and shine, y’all!
Side-Road Bob! I love this one.