Over the past two weeks, I've done a lot of sitting on my ass. A necessary evil in the act of healing, but irritating nonetheless. The things is, for as much lack of physical activity as I've had, I'm not actually resting — and definitely not relaxing. The less body movement I have, the more thinking, planning, and analyzing I do. Scatterbrained might best describe my current mental state, as my thoughts have been in several places at once, and few of them jive.
I workout for several reasons, not the least of which is mental clarity. When I'm lifting weights I'm focused. I'm not thinking about the meeting I have in an hour, what I'm making for dinner, or how the day's transportation is going to go. There are no thoughts of 'what if', no berating myself for forgetting something — I'm simply focused on the challenge of the moment. As exhausting and physically taxing as it is, it is the only time that I am not being pulled in numerous directions, splitting my focus and energy.
It baffles me that I can slow down and do one thing without distraction or interruption, yet somehow believe I cannot apply this to any other part of my day. Without a doubt, if I did, next to nothing would get done, but there are other moments when tuning what's around me out would be beneficial. When my sons come into the room and want to talk, why don't I set down my phone, laptop or TV remote more often? In the morning before anyone else is awake, how is it I don't sit in the quiet with my coffee and listen to the birds — they are so active and represent the amazing variance life possesses.
I could sit and question these things until I find the answer, or I can acknowledge change is necessary and start being more present when it counts. To me and to those around me. What good is all the adventure, effort, and accomplishment if the presence of mind and undivided attention are rarely exercised?
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