2022 Tiny-little-practices-that-make-a-difference — On rushing, and what did Da Vinci mean anyway?

Are you finding yourself rushing through things?

When I was a young mother, and my daughter Jaime was in kindergarten she observed me rush around most mornings; making breakfast, making lunch, trying to get the girls dressed, myself ready for work, and all of us out the door on time. I can assure you it wasn’t a pretty scene — lots of zigging and zagging, frustrations being expressed, and there were those outfit changes (theirs as well as mine).

One day, Jaime piped up. Clearly and quietly said, “You know mom, I’ve been noticing that when you rush around like that it actually makes things take longer.” She had been watching carefully and she hadn’t missed a thing! In her five year old wisdom, she had found the right time to make this observation such that I could hear it, and now 35 years later I still hold the impression of that moment of truth. Out of the mouths of babes . . .

So when I sat down to write this blog post, I noticed that I had a bit of a rush going. The thought was that it should be done already. The feeling tone was in the anxiety realm: with all the uncertainty in the world, what can I offer that is of real use? And underneath the desire to be of use, was even the call to offer something brilliant! It was Friday afternoon, the sensations in my body were a slightly speedy jumpiness that had me out ahead of myself that wasn’t allowing me to focus. My brow was furrowed with trying to figure out what to write about. I was rushing in that way that Jaime noticed makes things take longer.

So, I paused and made use of a practice for unresourceful rushing when approaching tasks that I’ve developed recently for clients. My definition of unresourceful is: Being rendered incapable of using what is at hand wisely or efficiently. As the rushing started to dissipate, I realized that I could offer it as the first of the tiny little practices for 2022. So here goes.

Leonardo Da Vinci was on to something when he said, “Time stays long enough for anyone who will use it.” But how do we use it well when it feels as if it is slipping away too fast? How do we use it well when our insides feel like a rushing river in rapids? And what the hell did Leonardo mean any way?

Here is a tiny little practice to develop quietude in the midst of activity which can give rise to a deeper efficiency — perhaps even experience a glimpse of what Leonardo meant. :)

There are a number of elements that contribute to to unresourceful rushing. When we get future oriented and then stir in a little anxiety (like the pressure to be brilliant) we come up and out of our center and the pace at which our body operates picks up. Driven by this future orientation the Friday afternoon neuro-chemical cocktail of cortisol and adrenaline shifted me into rush mode. This rendered me less able to resourcefully respond to the task at hand — Any chance I had at brilliance was disintegrating like wet tissue paper.

In general, when you are rushing you are operating up and out of most of your body. Think back and notice where your attention and energy is at those times. Chances are that it is floating at shoulder level or above and distinctly forward. Are you even aware of your spine or the back of your head? Can you feel the region of your heart, your butt on the chair?

You can attend to this high up and forward orientation simply by shifting your weight back and settling down into your body. To assist with this, place the palm of your hand on your belly and take a few breaths where you are elongating the out-breath. Elongating the out-breath while inviting your attention down towards your belly decreases the levels of cortisol and adrenaline, naturally settling your nervous system. It is a subtle yet remarkable shift that gives you access to more of yourself, to quietude.

Then return to the activity at hand. Start by giving the activity a specific amount of focused time and attention, say 15-30 minutes to start. Set a timer for that amount of time. Then place your hand on your belly and take a few breaths calling your attention in on the in-breath and settle down into your belly on the out-breath. Then imagine putting a set of blinders on and give the task your full attention until it is done or the timer has chimed, whichever comes first. If the task isn’t complete yet then evaluate and set the timer again. Continue until you have reached completion or the sense of rushing has dissipated and you are feeling resourcefully engaged in the process.

When we are rushing we are not able to find or forge a sense of engagement. Research in physics and philosophy is unveiling the truth that mystics like Leonardo have known for centuries, that time is a construct that is rather elastic. This practice can open up your sense of time, presence the gift that the mystery is offering up in the very moment, and allow for focus. Your relationship with time will shift when you engage in an activity from an inner quietude.

Here is a poem by Chelan Harkin to support this practice. I hope you enjoy both as you meet the gorgeous ruckus that is life on this beautiful planet.

The Flower

The flower
never had a to-do list,
not one day of her life.
She just pointed her whole self
toward light.
The rest
took care of itself.

Lyedie Geer

Putney Vermont

Spring 2022