I like to think I live the slow life. I like home cooked meals made from scratch. I try to garden organically. I admire painters, sculptors, weavers, and of course, crocheters and knitters. A month or two to knit a sweater is fast for me.
But... I am addicted to efficiency. For example:
Yesterday, I got up, did a quick Zumba workout in the basement, made some oatmeal bannock and ate it with yogurt and applesauce. While I was chewing that, I was preparing some yeast to make pita. When that was ready, I mixed up the pita dough, threw it in the bowl to rise, then took Rascal out for a 35-minute walk. Came home, packed my swim bag, then punched down the dough, portioned it out, rolled it out, left it to rest for 20 minutes while I washed the dishes. I put half of it in the oven, set the timer for 4 minutes, went into the bathroom and sprayed cleaner onto the tiles, tub and sink, and ran upstairs and did the same to the bathroom up there. The timer beeped, I came down, flipped out the cooked pita, tossed in the next batch, set the timer, then ran back into both bathrooms and wiped them both down. Beep beep, pita out, oven off, shoes and coat on, off to the pool, swam for 30 minutes, walked home, made lunch, washed those dishes, and then I sat down to knit. In the meantime, I'd also squeezed in about 20 minutes of plank pose for a plank challenge I'm doing this month.
And it wasn't even 1:00pm. What the frack was that about?
I don't know when I decided I'd try to be Miss Efficient, but I'll admit: I get a high when I know I've knocked a bunch of stuff off my list for the day. But I think it might be hurting me a lot more than I think. I want to take care of my mind, because, as Andy Puddicombe says in his video below:
This is the same mind we depend on to be focused, creative, spontaneous, and to perform at the very best in everything that we do. And yet, we don't take any time out to look after it. In fact, we spend more time looking after our cars, our clothes, and our hair...I think I'm going to try giving myself 10 minutes a day to just be mindful of what I'm doing... and I doubt I'll just be sitting there whilst I do so. But during those minutes, I'm going to try to use all my senses and practice using the phrase "right now."
Right now, I'm listening to Rascal's teeth as he gnaws through his rawhide bone.
Right now, I'm feeling the heat pad on my sore lower back loosen my muscles in preparation for my Zumba class.
Right now, my feet are warm and cozy in my slippers.
Right now, I'm breathing in and out, slowing down.
Right now, I'm typing to you, hoping that I'm reaching someone who needs this post today. I know I needed it, and I didn't even know I did...