Normally, I would have made this a long, flowery article. But that would defeat the purpose of what I am writing about. Why?
Because I recognise that all of us already have far too much going on in our lives.
Our lives these days seem to be characterised by overload, overwhelm, depletion, anxieties, stress, fears, and to-do lists from here to eternity.
Human beings carry a lot. We carry far too much. Our extraordinary brains like to complicate things – we think that if we make something sound more than it is, or track it to its last breath, we show how smart we are, how evolved.
We do this in myriad ways – our relationships, our careers, our daily routines. And we do it wittingly and with our eyes wide open.
We hand over our power to apps.
I recently got a new cell phone with an option to allow this piece of technology to schedule my downtime, my reading time, check on my health, how much I have slept, what food I have eaten. It can assist with a mood check-in, breathing exercises, meditation, my blood glucose level, my antioxidant index, my blood oxygen, to name a few.
All I need to do is live my life, and my phone will tell me how well or how badly I am doing so! What happened to my instinct, my common sense, my intuition, my brain?
Technology has made a lot possible, but it is a human who makes things happen. And we are on a journey towards an abyss of more, more, more, more, more.
We expose our curated lives on social media. We hand our power to every gadget that is manufactured – in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the bedroom, in the office, in our hands – all in an effort to … to do what? Make our lives more efficient, more pleasurable, more monitored, more regulated? What?
The animal kingdom, on the other hand, knows what it’s doing.
It relies on its gut, its senses.
It sheds. It leaves behind that which is worn, has run its course, and has served its purpose.
It does not shed its old skin for fear of having no skin for the rest of its life. It does not resist the natural flow of life, the seasons, the inevitable. It has no apps and no subscriptions.
Human beings, on the other hand, hold on. We squeeze the life out of, well, life. We panic at the thought of loss. We live in a consciousness built on fear that there won’t be enough. That there isn’t enough. That we must hoard. We must resist the natural rhythm of life. What is ours must remain ours – except our looks, which we change to keep up with the curated stories of our neighbours.
What do we carry? We carry feelings of inadequacy, that nothing we do, are, or have is good enough. We carry guilt, shame, and embarrassment. We carry stress like it’s our second skin. We have wittingly put ourselves on a treadmill with an ever-bigger, better, fancier speedometer – and we are running like crazy to catch up: with our own lives.
What could happen if we shed? We would lighten our load. We would become unburdened. We would be able to take a breath that does not stick in our throat. We would calm down, enjoy the moment, the scenery, our environment.
We would think straight. We would handle crises from a place of power not panic.
We would get through our days without being exhausted before the first piece of toast has popped out of the toaster.
We could be more meaningfully engaged with life, more focused, more aware – everything about it, the good and the bad. We would stop having experiences just to put a check mark next to another thing on our bucket list, some of which we went through so fast that we barely remember anything about it. But at least we have something terribly exciting to share with the neighbours.
We would feel more, but more deeply – we would trade quantity for quality.
How can we shed? We make the decision to let go. To slow down. To recalibrate. We remember that life is finite, and that chasing after it so hard, so often, might bring us a little too close to finality without us having savored the race, the journey.
I won’t use cliques like stop to smell the roses, or the coffee, or sip the Mai Tai. Speaking of which, when last did you stop to smell the roses, or the coffee, or sip the Mai Tai? When the app on your phone said it is time for a cocktail?
Let’s shed what no longer serves us.
