A Facebook friend posted this image from Mindful Living. I had to re-post it. Shortly after, I was in a business meeting with an longtime friend, and the topic of “flow” came up – that moment when you are so immersed in what you’re doing that time loses meaning. She finds that singular focus on the pottery wheel. I find it riding a motorcycle at speed.
I started to think about times when I might be more present in the moment, more focused on what I’m doing. (I dislike the term “mindful,” as it’s been misappropriated from philosophical practice.) Because of this image, walking Seamus came to mind. It’s something I do every day at least once, usually twice, and my head is not there at all. I wear headphones and listen to the news on NPR.
Mindfulness ended the day in 1979 that Sony launched the Walkman. It’s the day that everywhere you went, you could be accompanied by whatever noise you wanted in your head. In the early 80s this was the device to have. For many of us, it became much like the phone is today. It never left your side. Any time you could have it playing, you did, and many times when you shouldn’t. It allowed you to soundtrack every moment.
I see the repercussions today. Going back to riding a motorcycle at speed, my favorite track day organization actually had to create a rule that you couldn’t listen to music while riding the track. There are motorcycle helmets and communicators that will allow you to stream music or take a phone call while riding. Every time I’ve heard this, I’ve been stunned. The only music I want is the engine and the rushing wind. Anything else would be a distraction.
So tomorrow, when I go to walk Seamus, I’m going to take off the headphones. If I can gain a little bit of the moment back, it will be worth it.