Old Habits Die Hard: Time to Pause and Read a Book?
In the midst of the pandemic, I finally found my way back to writing, a passion of mine that I pursued at the beginning of my career, but put on hold to dedicate my full attention to corporate clients, to be able to give them my all, while at the same time forgetting to leave some for myself…
It’s interesting what you discover, or rather rediscover when you give yourself some time to think, some time to wander, some time to reassess why you’re actually doing all the weird and wonderful things you are doing. To revisit our navigational lingo that led us through the previous post and epiphany, sometimes you just need to get your head out of the map and have a look around, fully take in what’s surrounding you, observe the things that are new, and possibly recognise some that seem familiar — occasionally you get so lost in the detail, in your plans, following the path you’re on, that you might not notice that you’ve been here before.
Clearly I have, and while the latest Lake District visit got me back in touch with that wandering spirit and happy camper within, I decided to retrace my steps and thought-processes even further. I revisited previous learnings, reread journal entries, reviewed my very own blog posts even. I properly pressed pause and went back to the beginning, which led me to the opening paragraph, an excerpt from my corporate job profile.
In an attempt to justify that ominous pandemic hole on my resume, I shared what I got up to while my corporate endeavours were put on hold, an enforced break making room for other traits to flourish, and for old passions to reemerge.
Reading that entry with my recent outdoor journey in mind made me chuckle and shake my head in disbelief given my default behaviours, those old habits I can’t seem to shake off even though you’d think I’d know better by now. While revisiting posts, taking an actual leaf out of my own ‘book,’ I noticed that allocating time to myself, time to just ‘be’ rather than ‘do’, does not appear to be a strength of mine. Curse of being self-employed or a personal weakness? Either fits the bill I’m sure and needs some work, …or anything but maybe?!
With all that in mind, and given the fact that we are going into the chillier season not allowing for too much physical wandering, I thought it might be time for another book post. Starting off with some mind-boggling gems I’ve mentioned before, and introducing a few new ones that were recommended to me and struck a chord — that ‘letting things come my way’-attitude has been working a treat so far. 🍿🤓📚
When I Relax I Feel Guilty by Tim Hansel
First up, one of my favourite random lockdown discoveries, Tim Hansel, who managed to stop me in my tracks by simply reemphasising that we are human ‘beings’ rather than human ‘doings’, something that’s easy to forget, especially when your usual ‘doings’ are put on hold, involuntarily back then, voluntarily right now, in both instances leaving a void to fill with other things, or ‘doings’ rather.
Reading on, I remembered how much I liked his redefinition of vacation and his concept of taking ‘Vacations From…’ certain things that could be holding you back from being your best, those infamous time stealers unconsciously helping you to fill that uncomfortable void, a void that might need embracing rather than erasing?
Following Tim’s semantic footsteps, it might be worth redefining that ‘void’ as a ‘space’ in itself, a place where we can just be, where our thoughts can wander, where they can roam free. Unattached to any task or purpose, unattached to any ‘doings’, they can happily float around, enjoy each other’s company and while doing so, who knows, eventually decide to team up and form those unexpected connections Ed Catmull once defined as creativity, those little aha moments you sometimes have when doing anything but working on the task at hand.
If sat right next to me right now, you’d hear a little sigh of relief — not a hopeless case after all, some of those learnings did sink in, phew — since ‘reclaiming my space’ turned out to be my standard response when asked what I’d been up to since the outdoor season finished. I’m not quite sure where it came from, but it just felt like the right thing to say. Coincidently, I had moved again at that point, which made it a rather relatable response, but apparently there was much more to it.
Everything is Figureoutable by Marie Forleo
Well, time to meet your ‘inner voice,’ as well as the author who loves to openly talk about hers, Marie Forleo, ‘multi-passionate’ life coach who thinks Everything is Figureoutable, and latest addition to my reading list thanks to a good friend of mine who thought I might like her — a big shoutout to the lovely Miss Annette, …you know me so well! 🥰
If not keen on the book, especially after making your way through yet another wordy post of mine, maybe have a listen to her interview with Steven Bartlett on Spotify instead (The Diary of a CEO, Episode 184), lots of insights to gain from the podcast alone. Trying to tame my excitement and leaving some ‘space’ for you to make your own discoveries though, I’d like to hone in on that inner voice she’s so fond of, the one all of us should possibly pay a bit more attention to.
I guess you could compare it to that soft-spoken person in the room offering valuable input yet being overheard or simply ignored due to much louder and stronger voices competing for your attention, that external voice shaped by society, your insecurities, your fears, taking up all the space, making too much noise for that inner voice to be heard, for that inner nudge to be pursued, for your intuition to lead the way.
‘Listen to your feelings, they are trying to tell you something’ — tip 88 in Richard Carlson’s Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff seems like the perfect quote to summarise what Marie suggests when asked how to cut out the noise and turn up the volume on that whispering voice. It requires you to get out of your head and into your body as odd as it may sound, to pay attention how certain decisions make you feel. She differentiates between ‘expansive’ and ‘contracted’ sensations — is there a lightness and excitement to the choice you made, do you want to jump right in, or does it feel heavy, are you dreading what’s about to come, is there tightness in your body, is your jaw clenched?
I’m sure all of us made countless decisions against our better judgment, against that inner hunch we decided to ignore whilst listening to that outer voice offering a much better explanation, a rationalisation that would go down so much better in any job interview than ‘it just felt right’, right? But that’s exactly it! The thing to look out for and follow, that nudge that might not make sense to the outer world, but weirdly lights up your heart, that gives you energy, that lets you reconnect with your inner desires — desires which occasionally appear to find their outer expression to move on to the last author I’d like to mention in today’s post.
The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot by Robert Macfarlane
Skillfully connecting the inner and outer journey, Robert Macfarlane recently introduced me to the term ‘desire lines’ describing them as “free-will ways,” as “paths and tracks made over time by the wishes and feet of walkers,” an intriguing concept considering our learnings so far, even if not the main reason why I’m throwing him into the mix.
Whilst offering further food for thought in line with the other authors, it was rather his playful exploration of nature’s trails and the way he put his experience into writing that got me hooked. His use of imagery reminded me of what I enjoy about venturing through nature. One comparison in particular made me smile, one I might have to steal in the future, not out of mischief but due to the fact that I won’t be able to look at rabbit tracks in snow in any other way going forward, most likely the moment I knew this book will have a special place in my heart, or to stick with above, light it up in all the right ways, my very own ‘old ways’ if you so will, making me drift off into childhood memories.
His opening wander through the snow made me think of the ‘wintery night walks’ my mom took me and my brother on when my dad was on business trips. During nights when the fields and forests in our neighbourhood were covered in thick layers of snow, the moon being the only light to follow. Having walked such trails as an adult now, I know we never ventured far, but that sense of exploration in the quiet of the night, driven by curiosity what might lay ahead as we were retracing footsteps in the snow, it still gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling inside today, and might have had a little revival whilst out and about in Snowdonia the other week.
Following that wanderful Lake District experience, I took myself on yet another little solo-adventure which featured quite a few frosted peaks this time around, the most memorable one being Glyder Fawr and its misty views, or lack thereof rather, at times evoking a wasteland feeling leaving nothing but your sense of direction to go by, as well as some foot and paw prints after my first encounter of the day.
There weren’t many, but the people I did meet, which I could probably count on one hand, all had that little twinkle in their eye, amazed by the white landscape we got to venture through, following those prints more or less successfully, embracing that spark of joy once you found another trail, another human, another furry companion that must have passed by, sharing the experience whilst quietly plotting our own path, embracing our very own adventure and with it, that child-like explorer within.
Tim Hansel called them ‘gurus of play,’ those mini humans we once were who knew how to live rather than ‘do’ life. Unfazed by the outer noise, they approach the world from a place of play instead of fear, a habit we seem to unlearn as we get older, as we get too stuck in our heads and lose touch with our feelings and inner desires. Tim’s book was published in the late 70s showing that it’s not only me who needs continuous reminding to pause, to listen, to feel — to choose the path of curiosity and see where it might take us, to make space for those wandering thoughts and be attentive to the connections they might come up with.
On that note, I believe it’s time to explore, my lovelies! Time to cut out the noise and listen to that inner voice, to follow those desires lines, and perhaps, to find your very own version of Robert’s rabbit footprints in the snow …which he compared to Edvard Munch’s screamer by the way, in case your curiosity kicked in right then and there.
Many more nuggets of wisdom and wandering tales to be found in those books of course, away from my outdoorsy shenanigans, but hopefully I managed to pique your interest, got you thinking, and possibly even reading, preferably whilst sat in a cosy chair armed with a hot brew enjoying the current weather from a distance.
Either way, stay warm and happy exploring!! 📚🥾💭
Click here if the reading bug bit you and you missed previous book posts.
