Choose Your Soundtrack

Finding peace and purpose in today's world

I have been incredibly stressed recently.  Mostly due to the fall of democracy and the demonization of differences, but also because of some of the more mundane aspects of adulting, like vet bills and menopause.

I have been stressed before, but never like this.  Never like the tight rope I am walking is going boing boing boing and could snap at any moment.  Never like walled off from my feelings.  Never incapable of listening.  And I didn’t even realize I had become a Zombie Shell, I just went with it because I was getting by.

Then, a few days ago, I read a note by one of my favorite Sub Stackers, Craig Sefa, and my shell cracked just a tiny bit.  The sliver of light hurt when it illuminated what the trauma of the desecration of my country was doing to me, and how I was numb; stuck on autopilot, with uninspired reactions reactions reactions in the echo chamber.

So yesterday, I forced myself out of my routine, and walked the dogs at a different park; a lovely island of sanity between a freeway and 12 South, a bustling hub of the Nashville scene.

The freeway noise was loud. Very, very loud.

But the birds were loud, too.  And, while scooping up a fresh, hot mess from my older dog, I realized that I had a choice.

I could choose to hear the cars and trucks fuming by below me, or, I could choose to listen to the birdsongs drifting through the trees beside me.  

It is more work to choose the birds.  They, even en mass, are quieter than the traffic, and more dispersed, so it is more challenging both to block out the traffic noise and to let in the sounds of nature.  But is doable, and so much more worthwhile.

While listening to the traffic, I feel slow, unproductive and like I, too, should be rushing somewhere.  While listening to the birds, I feel relaxed, connected and purposeful.

Craig shone his light on the path I was walking; the shiny paved path of least resistance, while what I intended to be doing was resisting.

It turns out, if I am going to be an effective voice of resistance , I need to travel on the hiking trail.  The messy gnarly one.  The one that the birds sing on, the squirrels chomp on, the deer scurry over.  That loud, muddy path that I have to work to traverse is the one that inspires me, relaxes me, focuses me, and allows me to do what needs to be done.

We all have a choice.  I choose the hard way.  Feel free to join me and the wildlife as we fight for free speech, science and the rule of law.

Thanks, Craig.