Small moments that bookend the big work of our lives

The first thing I did in preparation of writing this column was to sleep well. Instead of staying up late to write, I put myself to sleep without getting wound up. In the morning, I woke up for a pre-scheduled online session with a wise woman who facilitates pranayama and guided relaxation. In the last 10 minutes of the session, when we stay in silence and are invited to write, draw or work with our hands, I opened this document.

I also opened my journaling document in which I have been pouring a stream-of-consciousness thoughts for one year. On many mornings, I have used this time to prepare for writing this column. It is where I test out my thoughts. I read a few pages to see if connections and patterns emerge on the loose sand of my words.

After the session, I felt generous towards myself and got into bed again. In five minutes, I got up again; I am sure because all the animals I feed in the morning, especially the cats, were sending me telepathic messages to serve them breakfast.

Since the dogs must go for a walk before they eat, my daughter and I walked into the forest park next door to get them some exercise and also stretch our own limbs. We met an elderly neighbour who mistook us for sisters and advised us to read and critique short stories, leaving us amused at the misunderstanding. She offered us an open invitation to visit her at home for more nuggets of wisdom.

I am used to be being casually patronised by well-meaning strangers and amusing acquaintances, but my daughter was taken aback by the exchange. “How come she doesn’t recognise you?” she asked.

We returned home. I fed the dogs and my daughter fed the cats. We ate two guavas plucked from the tree in our own compound.

Cheeku, our younger dog, is restless and uncomfortable; my daughter takes her crochet work and her ukulele to sit near the dog and calm him as she calms her own nerves. The soundtrack of bird song and her ukulele created an oasis untouched by the flood of noisy demands that the day’s work is likely to be.

I refer to these quiet interludes in our life as doing-nothing time. Quiet time. Me time.

A bunch of small moments that bookend the big work of our lives. It is this quiet mindfulness that rejuvenates our energy — mental, physical and emotional. It is this privilege that we earn after we have put up with the clamour of everyday challenges — on the roads, our social media feeds, our television screens, our workplaces and family systems.

I have not gone back to read the notes that I have been journaling for nearly a year now. I didn’t expect to find anything much in them. After all, I hadn’t struggled to write any of it. These must be useless words. There was no pause to design pretty sentences, to add a clever metaphor, or even create structure in the writing.

This time, I did. Perhaps it was the right time for it.

“Create a silence within you and take it into the day with you,” I have quoted my teacher on the journal page in May last year. I don’t remember writing this. But I have experienced myself doing this. Sometimes, the most powerful changes within us appear so subtly that we may not be able to notice them immediately.

“I love my animals. I want to care for them and be there for them. I want to be at peace, even when their needs are not immediately met,” I write for myself in the same entry. Today, I feel satisfied with our progress in this area of our life. The animals learn to manage their expectations and my family and I arrive at a place where we can love and care for them without being overwhelmed by the responsibility.

“I am so engaged with the constant chatter in my head that I don’t listen to what my body is telling me,” a friend shared recently. Suddenly, both of us realised that our ability to be able to articulate this distinction is in itself progress for us.

Almost as soon as we are able to articulate a conflict, instead of trying to ignore or deny it, we find that our subconscious begins to find ways to solve the problem. Starting from a place of silence helps us to see the picture being painted by our free-associating mind. It seems that setting intentions and staying on the path does work things out on their own.

“Meet others in peace, they will be less intimidating to you,” I have written to myself. I did exactly this in the morning, without realising it. Making the connection shows me how healing works.

Doing nothing of consequence seems to be a decent route to discover our best selves — less easy to offend, offering calmness and acceptance to ourselves as well as others. The ‘doing’ part of our lives needs a ‘being’ side, to help us find the balance that makes us feel whole and secure.

— The writer is a filmmaker,

author and teacher