Restlessness is the plight of man.
Look around you. Literally, take a second to glean your surroundings for a second. If you're reading this in the morning or in the middle of the day, you're most likely outlined by havoc, by people constantly rushing to be somewhere so they can be somewhere in order to see someone so they can be someone. If you're reading this at night or in the quiet comfort of yourself and ironically the entire internet, don't be fooled into thinking you've escaped. Around you are remnants of chaos: to-do lists detailing your life goals for the "Summer of 2013! #yay #yolo #froyo #volvo?," Facebook photos that Becky posted 2.3 seconds ago of her Study Abroad trip to Roma where she's putting that art major to good use by chatting up local Paolo from the fish market--did I just recite part of The Sisterhood of Traveling Pants Trilogy?, or better yet, a recent or not so recent photobooth strip/t-shirt/random memorabilia you've kept that reminds you of an Ex whose chaos you've forgotten, but can't seem to erase. They are bridges to-and-fro the past and the future, emphasis on the future, but they seem to distance us from what lies underneath...which I realize is the point of a bridge, but this analogy is getting away from me and it's too late to turn back so just go with it...
We are the creatures of the fleeting moment, convinced that if our thoughts don't turn into actions at this moment, that the moment will disappear in of itself. It will be trapped in a Narnia of lost and forgotten moments, rendered useless because, well, we didn't have the damn key to the damn armoire in the first damn place. And gasp! A lost moment is inconsequential to our lives, and what is inconsequential is a waste of time, and time wasted is not gained so, alas, we will be doomed to lives of loser-dom and hobo living that our parents warned us about. Ok so maybe I'm overly simplifying the entire scenario, but let's be real, we've all ridden this train of thought.
We are controlled by clocks, ticking away rhythmically to a future we are supposed to have completely mapped, colored coded, and laminated with a key. Every moment has to have purpose. Every impulse controlled and constrained to what is or is not productive for future you. Running towards a future that your parents can brag about to their friend's uncle's coworker's son at his high-school graduation.
Forget about stopping to smell the freaking flowers, spoiler alert: they pretty much all smell the same. I'm talking about really being in this moment. Close your eyes, focus on your breath, and just be. Sometimes that's hard enough without everyone imposing their lives onto you via every social networking forum ever invented. Don't dwell on what was and please, for your own sake, don't run to the future or you'll be looking at Becky's photos and wishing you were her instead. Stop the Restlessness, and Rest a little, Ness.
Look around you. Literally, take a second to glean your surroundings for a second. If you're reading this in the morning or in the middle of the day, you're most likely outlined by havoc, by people constantly rushing to be somewhere so they can be somewhere in order to see someone so they can be someone. If you're reading this at night or in the quiet comfort of yourself and ironically the entire internet, don't be fooled into thinking you've escaped. Around you are remnants of chaos: to-do lists detailing your life goals for the "Summer of 2013! #yay #yolo #froyo #volvo?," Facebook photos that Becky posted 2.3 seconds ago of her Study Abroad trip to Roma where she's putting that art major to good use by chatting up local Paolo from the fish market--did I just recite part of The Sisterhood of Traveling Pants Trilogy?, or better yet, a recent or not so recent photobooth strip/t-shirt/random memorabilia you've kept that reminds you of an Ex whose chaos you've forgotten, but can't seem to erase. They are bridges to-and-fro the past and the future, emphasis on the future, but they seem to distance us from what lies underneath...which I realize is the point of a bridge, but this analogy is getting away from me and it's too late to turn back so just go with it...
We are the creatures of the fleeting moment, convinced that if our thoughts don't turn into actions at this moment, that the moment will disappear in of itself. It will be trapped in a Narnia of lost and forgotten moments, rendered useless because, well, we didn't have the damn key to the damn armoire in the first damn place. And gasp! A lost moment is inconsequential to our lives, and what is inconsequential is a waste of time, and time wasted is not gained so, alas, we will be doomed to lives of loser-dom and hobo living that our parents warned us about. Ok so maybe I'm overly simplifying the entire scenario, but let's be real, we've all ridden this train of thought.
We are controlled by clocks, ticking away rhythmically to a future we are supposed to have completely mapped, colored coded, and laminated with a key. Every moment has to have purpose. Every impulse controlled and constrained to what is or is not productive for future you. Running towards a future that your parents can brag about to their friend's uncle's coworker's son at his high-school graduation.
Forget about stopping to smell the freaking flowers, spoiler alert: they pretty much all smell the same. I'm talking about really being in this moment. Close your eyes, focus on your breath, and just be. Sometimes that's hard enough without everyone imposing their lives onto you via every social networking forum ever invented. Don't dwell on what was and please, for your own sake, don't run to the future or you'll be looking at Becky's photos and wishing you were her instead. Stop the Restlessness, and Rest a little, Ness.
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