I’m always worried. I worry about all sorts of things from personal finances to the global economic crisis; from my health to the impending doom of the planet’s destruction. I’m trying to cure myself of this habit but I’m genetically inclined. My mother was a worrier and her mother before her. The road to recovery starts with recognition of the affliction.
Recently I worried about losing momentum on this blogging business because this living business was taking up a lot of time. Last night I hosted a dinner party for family and old friends, my first gathering since returning to my hometown. The planning and execution took up all my spare time this past week, not to mention the worrying – about the guest list, accommodating the guest list – are there enough chairs? can everyone sit around the table? is the menu compatible with lap feasting? is there enough variety in the menu? While it was an elaborate and ambitious affair to fete the final day of the Chinese New Year’s celebrations, the constant worrying made it a far more complicated task than it had to be and steps were repeated unnecessarily.
Chinatown (Photo credit: Vankuso (Dominik Starosz))
During the preparations I had a great experience that confirms the wisdom of stopping to smell the roses. En route to do the big shop in Chinatown I stopped for a bowl of soup – of course I debated the decision since time was of the essence and I was going to get stuck in rush hour traffic and so on and so on. But I eschewed getting food to-go and seized the opportunity to practice mindfulness. I sat at the counter by the window, and unlike the woman to my left I resisted scrolling through messages on my smartphone. I enjoyed my lunch while watching an assortment of folks scurrying to and fro. As I put on my coat to go, the woman to my right asked about the soup and easy conversation started to flow. At first I resisted engaging, I had taken my break and now it was time to get back on track. Chop chop. And then the moment came – a reference to mother daughter/relationships. Since my mother’s passing these moments always prick at my heart, sometimes more profoundly than others. It turns out her daughter works at the cafe and she had come for a visit. She and her husband had encouraged her to take a year off before University since she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. As she talked her maternal comments melded with past advice from my own mother. A maternal moment was being channeled. We continued to chat for a few minutes and I set off on my errands. My break had taken a half and hour but I was buoyed by the conversation and the underlying affirmation to take the time to live a life in which you were fully engaged and present.
Later I made a list of things to do for the dinner and made sure I scheduled breaks for myself. I read this passage while having a snack break:
Old men cross the road in front of you on foot, behind flocks of newly shorn sheep… The fact that you are in a hurry is of no particular interest to them; in their opinion, if you are making your journey in a hurry, you are making it poorly.
excerpt from The Tiger’s Wife by Tea Obreht
Message received, ’nuff said.
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