Tag: disconnection

Reconnecting

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“Take everything in the palms of your hands and see what’s worth keeping, then blow the rest away with a breath of kindness.” – Cherokee saying

When we returned from our four nights away this past weekend, I noticed that my toddler went around touching everything. He fingered his toys, he opened the pantry, he got down on the floor and felt under the couch, he lifted the top of the toy cubby, he sidled along the couch while running his hand along, he went outside and ran his hand along each planter. It was fascinating to watch him wander around and reconnect.

It reminds me of the way I’ve felt disconnected upon returning home, especially from longer trips. I’ve felt the huge shift between all the newness of what I’ve just seen and experienced and the ease and familiarity of my home. In those moments, my heart feels full wrapped in the comfort of the space I call home but my head is still gone, sorting what’s important.

And it happens not only when I’ve traveled but also when I’ve gone through life events, big like my dad’s sudden death or small like just when I’ve finished a work project. Moments when I’m at a loss about what comes next, untethered and unsure how to integrate what I’ve learned with who I am. When it happens, I realize how much I often rely on routine to tell me what’s next. Somehow my world has changed and I have to reinsert myself in the flow.

It seems like my son’s method of touching everything contains some basic wisdom. It’s a way of being grounded. Touch everything with your hands until your head and your heart catch up.

Hoarding

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“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and could say, I used everything you gave me.” – Erma Bombeck

Once I heard a riff that comedian Paula Poundstone did about buying fruit. She said she never risked it because it was so unpredictable. “What am I going to do, wake my kids up in the middle of the night because the cantaloupe is finally ripe?”

Cracks me up – probably because I resemble that story. I buy the fruit but then I like to just keep it on hand because then I can feel like I have an adequate supply of fresh fruit. Way too often I cut open the watermelon and realize that I “saved” it too long. Good grief! And it’s not just fruit I do it with. I’ll think of a great idea to write about, something that really represents something meaningful in my life — and then not write about it because I’m saving it. I know, dear reader, that you are asking “saving it for what?” Exactly, right! Who knows? With all due respect to proper planning and being prudent, sometimes my type of saving can be the enemy of now!

When I dig deep, I realize that I’m working towards some false sense of safety. If I have things on hand, whether they be fruit or ideas, then maybe, just maybe I can feel that I have enough, that I am enough. The flip side of this isn’t emptiness, it’s lack of faith. I want to have a great idea in my back pocket because just in case I’m called upon, I won’t be without something great to say.

I’ve cut open enough fruit past its prime to start understanding this basic truth of my life. If I’m ever called upon, it will be for an occasion for which I destined for. I’m not arguing the theology of predestination but just generally speaking about the paths that are lives take and while they seem like such a surprise to us, when looking back there is a crazy, logical narrative that can’t be an accident. So, if I’m called upon, I must have faith that what I’ve done leading up to that moment is all the preparation I need.

Often when I feel disconnected from life, it’s when I’m hoarding. I’m safely to the side, practicing for when life calls on me. And whenever I clue in and return to this moment, the one I’m starring in right now, I think of Paula Poundstone and then go get some fruit from the pantry and celebrate with the thunk of the knife announcing the moment at hand.