Tag Archives: habits

Itchy and Scratchy

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THE EDITOR

Even when it’s right, it’s not quite.

To prod and pull and stretch and twist.

Make something out of nothing, and nothing out of less.

It’s early morning on the drill line.

No tolerance or time to spare.

You think you’re safe in solemn silence.

But the life that you keep and the way that you struggle,

Is beyond comprehension and beyond your control.

Waiting for some rescue boat in the form of clever happenstance.

Eating time with hopes and promise, days turn into years.

You teach the ones who follow, and practice what you preach.

But it’s merely substitution, and the core persists, unchanged.

Fate has been both kind and cruel.

Faith has come and morphed and left.

There’s a comfort in your chaos, in the head that just won’t sleep.

But there’s a stopwatch for every system,

And they all count down to nil.  —original poem, c. 2010

Everything must sit neatly in a distinct mode, layout, structure, etc., to feel right, comfortable, or acceptable. I wiggle and edit and shake and switch until the puzzle pieces align. Like a scratchy wool sweater, I yank at the sleeves and twist the collar until the seams fall into place.

It all starts simple and harmless enough: exchanging shoes because the insole slightly rubs a toe the wrong way; remaking a bed three times because the sheets aren’t equidistant from the edge of the frame; returning five different pairs of glasses until finally finding arms that can rest on the ears in a particular angle as to not disturb headphones; endlessly researching the origins of every product, ingredient, chemical, additive, or cleverly hidden component to ensure it’s nontoxic, vegan, cruelty-free, natural, sustainable, and organic.

Then things start to get REAL specific. The systems, habits, and unbreakable routines function like a panic-inducing, swiftly falling Tetris line. One ill-conceived, hasty move or simple incautious step, and life tumbles in on itself like a Jenga tower.

The upside is ultimately arriving at precisely the energy, mood, temperature, lighting, music, feel, meal, time, position, or product I’ve painstakingly targeted.

The downside is a kind of constant manic discomfort and inability to settle or rest.

So, yeah…it’s not great.

Adolescence Interrupted

Move Outside

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Move outside of conventional thinking, blind acceptance of information, rigid adherence to societal standards, pressure to compete with unattainable goals, shortsighted global views, pigeonholed careers, clock watching, orchestrated self-sabotage, doomsday scenarios, rat races, hamster wheels, bear markets, likes, followers, the perfect angle, the perfect light, sound bites, idolatry, jealousy, greener grass, greener envy, antagonistic self-reflection, competitive denigration, punching down, anonymous opinions, recycled rage, or falsely directed fear.

But most importantly…Move. Outside.

We are zombies and addicts. Glued to the incessant blue light glow of media, entertainment, propaganda, and mind control, we find ourselves forced against our will to continue swimming in a toxic stream. As our brains and bodies become more and more compromised, we defiantly keep our palms hovering just above the flame, even when the skin starts to blister. We lose days, weeks, and months in a ceaseless, cultish haze of ritualistic participation.

Thankfully, there is a panacea to stop our unconscious suffering. It couldn’t be easier to access and it’s entirely without cost. At a cellular level, science designed us to slay this dragon, and there is no more perfectly constructed solution to this troubling global affliction.

Stand up. Move.

Walk, run, jog, jump, slide, spin, sprint, hang, climb, swim, swing, dance, stretch, and twist.

The immediate effects are shocking. The long-term benefits are indisputable. What starts as a slog will soon become a necessity. Our minds and moods mimic this change in positive action and the chemicals that foster those feelings respond in kind.

We don’t need pills or distractions or more ways to numb ourselves.

We just need to move.

Adolescence Interrupted

Regimens, Rituals, Routines, and Repetitions

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There is an inherent beauty in the spotless design of unbroken uniformity. A placid pond without ripples. Endless assembly line loops. Dominoes sitting stacked like obedient soldiers, primed for the fall. We marvel at the meticulousness and take comfort in the reassuring sense that we can anticipate what’s approaching, whether secretly emerging from the shadows or blatantly barreling around blind corners.

Many of the highest output producers have established deliberate methodologies to maximize efficiency and minimize waste. Even in artistic pursuits, there is normally a series of steps taken before the comfort of creativity has a chance to blossom.

History’s most revered thinkers, philosophers, and intellectuals instituted various structured systems and behaviors that allowed them the unencumbered freedom to simply ponder. When we are buried beneath the oxygen-depriving load of checklists, appointments, strain, stress, responsibilities, and distractions, our mental hard drives are too busy spinning plates to thoroughly question, dissect, or explore.

Time management and prioritization are elusive little devils that keep their pitchforks purposely pointed in my direction with far more regularity than I’d like to publicly accept. Staying lost in thoughts that do nothing but add to the tally of uncontrollable variables—drowning in a sea of projection and conjecture—exemplifies the dizzying, dehydrating hamster wheel sprinting that stands in direct opposition to productivity or a legitimate sense of accomplishment.

Find a habit, build a plan, schedule a working window, wait until inspiration strikes, and then let your mind wander free. That seemingly baffling juxtaposition is exactly the recipe required for baking the bread of ideas.

But don’t let the wander turn into maze-making. Hunt for exits and solutions, not walls and hidden cheese.

Adolescence Interrupted

The Beauty of Authenticity

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MASKMost of us walk through the world craving truth and validity, wearing masks to hide our intentions and insecurities. We post pictures capturing flashes of how we’d like to be perceived, and delete anything that might prove contradictory. We manufacture images built from aspirational notions, and hope no one notices the holes in our Swiss cheese.

It’s a high-wire routine, and many times we’re left swaying on a safety net—feeling anything but safe—and wondering how we fell. But, what if we removed the mirage and abandoned the ruse? What if we stopped filtering our words and screening our thoughts?

The consequences would be disastrous, right? How would we manipulate one another, gaining what we want by leaving a trail of unsuspecting victims in our path? How else could we construct perfect alibis and hide honest opinions inside of false compliments?

I’m not claiming this transition would succeed without bruises, and I don’t know if it’s even feasible in a technologically translucent society. But, beating the bedrock to expose a fallacious foundation may not be the worst use of our united efforts.

Games are fun, and they serve their purpose at birthday parties, baby showers, and wine-guzzling get-togethers. But, an existence safeguarding every word and action is a life spent toiling against the grain. Leave the fantasy on stage, and say what’s in your heart. It’s a dose of fresh air in a crammed elevator, and it feels fantastic.

Old habits die hard, but allowing even a modicum of legitimacy to creep into your vocalized notions will give the those tiny roots permission to sprout. Before long, we’ll all be standing atop a tree of transparency…or not.