Getting a Grip on Distraction
Being a desert person, I have grown accustomed to a monochromatic landscape. In the desert everything follows a similar color scheme. Even the animals blend into the color of sand. I was with a colleague recently who commented that the buildings in the Southwest part of the United States all seem to look the same and all seem to fit into the landscape as if they have absolutely no distinctiveness of their own. She wondered why there's so little color or architectural difference. There is, for me, an important reason for this. By keeping everything similar, there's room to pay attention to what really stands out -- the stark red stone mesa, the pungent scent of chapparal after a rain, the ebon starlit sky. The desert is filled with its own sheer beauty that is easily missed if buildings themselves stand out.
I've learned two important things about desert landscapes through my years of life in them. First, there is little to distract me from the vastness of the territory or the depth of my own soul. The main feature of the land is 'sameness,' and it is this feature that invites going deep within. The desert's very minimal interest helps me focus on what is unseen. When I am rid of the contrasts, the distractions, the things that draw my attention away from what is most important there is a possibility that I will go deeper down, deeper in. Secondly, when there is a change; a wildflower popping up, a bright yellow bloom on a prickly pear, a pink and orange sunrise, there is no possibility of missing it. It stands out in total relief to the normal, usual, predictable topography. I am suddenly awakened from stupor, brought into a space of intense attention and gratitude. The very simplicity of the desert landscape makes it possible to see the random surprises, the unexpected gifts, the astonishing beauty that bolsters hope and fosters creativity.
If you're struggling with finding focus, if you're feeling that the tasks of life are coming at you at the speed of light, if you feel distracted in your own home, if you can't make decisions, if you don't feel you know your own self, if you can't be still with your own soul, it might be time for a little desert simplicity. Here are a couple of suggestions.
Clear a space -- Maybe you can clear a whole room, maybe a closet, maybe a corner in a room. But create a space with nothing in it. Don't do the work of trying to decide what to keep, what to give away, what to hold onto until you decide if you need it. Simply clear everything out so that you have an empty space. Sit silently in the space until you have a sense of what you should bring into the space. It might be nothing more than a candle or a single flower. It might be a book or a plant. It might be a table and a chair. Bring in what needs to be there and nothing else. When focus seems as distant as the miles between Omaha and Shanghai, sit in your space until a sense of calm returns.
Clear your calendar -- Create time that is unscheduled. Write it into your calendar as an appointment, so that you will not be tempted to fill it with the next request that comes floating through the ether into your lap. Turn off your phone, step away from your computer, stop the music that's playing, and go to your empty space. Sit until you feel boredom setting in. Then take a pen and notebook, and write -- write about what you're feeling, write about the hopes of your heart, write about the possibilities of life, write about the questions of your soul. Just write and then sit again.
Putting these two things into practice, will lead you away from the freneticism that is so rampant in our culture. If you boldly take the risk to go against the prevailing wind of doing what everyone else does, or what everyone wants or expects from you, you will have the chance to tend the preciousness of your own self.
Who knows, you just may book a trip to the desert!
Labels: boredom, desert, landscape, self-reflection, simplicity, spirituality, stillness, time




