silence

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What Does Your Life Look Like When No One is Watching?

Social media, urgh. Devices, urgh. Sharing every aspect of you life with people you’ve never even met, urgh. Right now, this is 99% of internet life for most people these days.

I’m going to go on a little rant now, about the ‘good old days’ when we didn’t have mobile phones, internet, heck, even cable tv. Yes, I’m GenX. As kids, we lived most of our lives outside, unless there was a thunderstorm or it was colder than -25C. Friends came over to play, and we had in-person conversations and social interactions. It wasn’t abstract, it wasn’t one-step removed from a real personal meeting. And I feel that we are losing that reality at an incredible rate.

Even if, like me, you’re perfectly happy being on your own and social interactions are kept to a bare minimum, there is still so much relationship to be had with the real world, the natural world around you. I’m hardly ever lonely, because there are birds around me, deer, trees, the sea, the forest. But all that is being sacrificed to spend time online in a virtual world where you can’t smell the woodsmoke on the air, feel the wintery sunlight on your face or walk through the dewy grass. And yes, I see the irony of expressing myself with these words you are reading here on my online blog, my voice being carried virtually across continents to people I’ve never met. But just bear with for a few moments longer, if you would.

I love silence. I crave silence. Most of my day is spent in silence, the only sound the birds in the garden and the clacking of the keyboard as I write my books. But then that wonderful silence is broken by having to post on social media, to remain visible, to post content to keep the algorithm going. And yet I often wonder as I feed the beast that is social media, am I being nourished as well?

I am providing content for these platforms, but am I getting anything in return? When it all comes down to it, there is very little return on the investment of my time and effort spent in these places. But we are taught, aren’t we, that we must post, we must share, we must continue to be present in these spaces. It’s one of the greatest illusions of all time.

And we can get caught up in it all, letting it seep into every single moment of every single day. I have to retrain my brain, because every time I see a wonderful sunset, I want to share it with the world. When I go for a walk and see the deer, I whip out my phone to record them, hoping to inspire others with the beauty of nature. But I am missing out on being present in that moment, with the sunset, with the deer, with the world that is trying to interact with me. It’s like going down to the pub with your mate, who is trying to video everything for their own social media. What’s the point? Who does that nourish? Certainly not one’s own self or the person you are with.

It’s the greatest con of all time.

Here’s the question we should be asking ourselves, day in and day out:

What does my life look like, when no one is watching?

Some people might realise that they don’t even have a life that goes undocumented, and they then must create one, which can be an utter joy and a balm for the soul or frightening as hell. Others realise how much of their lives are a complete and utter illusion, and want the real stuff, the good stuff, that which feeds our soul and not the beast.

We have to release ourselves from this need for validation.

As a self-published author I need social media in order to get the word out about my work. But social media does not need me. It’s an imbalanced relationship. Some people might say the same of cats, but they are obviously not cat people.

It’s okay to live a life that is your own, and not shared with the world. I am making a serious effort to reign in the desire, the need, the built-in mode of share, share, share that social media instructs us to do. Because for the most part, it’s not to our benefit. It changes the way we think, the way we behave, and we can completely lose ourselves in the process. And that’s not something I’m willing to do.

So I will be spending less time in a virtual world, hoping to retrain my brain to be with me in this world, where the cat wants to play, the branches on the trees are sparkling in the sunlight after the rain, and remembering what my life is like when no one is watching.

Because that’s the most important life of all.  

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BBQ Epiphanies

I am naturally a very solitary creature. Growing up, I spent most of my time alone, as there weren’t many other kids my age nearby, and few who spoke English. I was completely bilingual, however the majority of children were my brother’s age or younger. I had a best friend in elementary school, but she moved away in grade six, and from then on I didn’t really have a close friend who lived less than a half hour’s drive away. I didn’t play all that much with my siblings, except some sports with my brother and the other neighbourhood kids when we felt like shooting some hoops or went down to the ball park at the end of the street to play softball. Most of my time was spent playing alone, letting my imagination lead me to realms of faerie in our backyard, and when I was old enough to wander further afield on my own, to explore the forest that stretched for miles behind our house, or go and see the horses in the meadow. I was never bored.

That sense of solitude has been with me my whole life. Being very sensitive to noise, to other people’s emotions, not liking crowds and cities overwhelming me I found solace alone. I still do, to a large extent, spending most of my time alone, working from home. It’s nice and quiet; a good environment for me to write. My husband is a solitary creature as well, on the autistic spectrum and therefore prefering a calmer way of life. He’s quite easy to live with. I have lived with other people before, and can honestly say that I can’t imagine living with anyone else right now. I hated living with other people, with their noise, their mess, etc. For the most part, it’s just me, my cats and my husband (yes, in that order, and my husband knows it) J

I’ve created a beautiful home and garden with my husband, and we love it dearly. However, like a meal, or music, or any art, it’s something that really only comes into its own when shared with other people. And so I strive to create a home not only for myself, but a sanctuary for people when they visit. I am blessed with more friends in my life now than I’ve ever had, close friends who I know have got my back even as I’ve got theirs. It’s sometimes a strange feeling for this solitary creature, to know that I now have so many friends, wonderful people in my life who share their laughter and light, sharing their lives with me.

Yesterday we had a barbeque. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the birch trees were in that fresh new green of early leaves only days after the buds have opened. We totalled nine people in all, which is a lot for me and my husband’s sensitivities, and yet we had a brilliant time. Being able to share my home and my garden with friends is a true blessing. To serve others, to make them feel relaxed and welcome, is a wonderful gift to be able to give. I love seeing people just loosen up as they enjoy the sunshine and the wonderful view from the back garden, see their facial muscles relax and tension just slip from their bodies as they indulge in a bit relaxation, away from the city and amidst good company. We laughed so much yesterday. The garden and house needs laughter and friendship, even as it needs silence and quietude. The energy flows freely when we have people over, and then settles beautifully in silence afterwards.

I am truly blessed to know wonderful people. I live in gratitude, daily, knowing that at any moment things could change. Being able to share my life with others, and also to find the quiet and solitude that I need is a true blessing. I know that others are not so blessed, and it keeps me awake and aware in my practice of daily gratitude. In solitude and with others, I give my heartfelt thanks for this wonderful life, for the long and bumpy roads that got me here, for the pathless wilderness that I have travelled and for the times of smooth sailing. And when I can, I will share this with others, in joy and gratitude. And then settle into stillness once more.

4

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Silence, the Author and Freedom

This long bank holiday weekend just gone has been spent mostly listening. I’ve stopped talking, for the most part; I’ve stopped the mental chatter to gain clarity. My aid in this exercise was drawing, working with coloured pencils where the only thing that mattered was the lines, the colours, the paper. My self had fallen away, and I was better able to see clearly. Art is liberation. Art is freedom.

As a writer, sometimes it’s hard to just stop. I’m usually always writing, at least in my head. Like a musician who writes their own music, who is always composing, I am always putting into words what is influencing me, what the muses whisper. It’s hard to turn that off sometimes. Through meditation I am able for thirty minutes to an hour to switch it off. Days of mindfulness. Through trancing I am able to leave it behind. Dancing also does it – especially dancing with my professional dance troupe, where when we are improvising we have to listen so hard to each other’s bodies that our own selves don’t get in the way. But this weekend the awen came through drawing and colouring.

When we’re quiet, when we’re still, we’re able to hear the world around us. When we stop that mental chatter, when we stop telling and retelling ourselves the story of our selves then we can hear the stories of others. We can be influenced and learn from the stories of others. We learn that we are not always right. We learn that we are not always wrong. We learn that we are never the same person every morning that we wake up. We change, we grow, we recede, we die and do it all over again the next day. In this exercise we learn that it is okay to differ from the person you were yesterday, that your opinions and thoughts will change over time, else they become dogma.

But essentially we have to learn to switch off first, before we can get to that head space. We need to find the silence, the void, the empty cauldron. Only when we are empty can we be filled. Only when we’ve poured out all the contents can we refill it with what nourishes us. We can’t subsist on the same old same old each and every day. We have to let things go, we have to have new ideas, new inspiration. Living in the present moment is what this is all about. Stuck in the past, we are not open to new ideas. Lost in the future, those ideas will never come. Here and now. Perfect freedom.

Tomorrow I will be a different person. Today I am different from yesterday. I question who this person really is, and then I let the question go. It doesn’t really matter. What really matters is freedom.