Knowing and feeling

A few days ago there was a crash on Tonkin Highway. I don’t know exactly what happened, but it seemed to be a pretty bad one because they needed to temporarily close the highway. Meanwhile all the traffic had come pretty well to a standstill as everyone slowly crawled forwards, taking the earliest exits but not really moving very efficiently. All up, it took me an hour to get to Bethwyn’s house (whereas normally it takes me about twenty-five minutes). And yet, I still consider it one of the most pleasant drives of my life. The sun was shining, the air was fresh, and I rolled down my windows and just crawled along at a leisurely pace, inch by inch. I was tempted to “make the most of my time” by listening to Hamish and Andy, but I resisted the temptation and just really focussed on being present and enjoying the wonderful, and I do mean wonder-full, sensations around me.

This morning after an amazing circus conditioning class (seriously, a few classes of circus conditioning has strengthened my body noticeably more than weeks of karate conditioning. The difference between the two is that the former is integrated, full-body and highly functional, whereas the latter is quite specific) I once again resisted the urge to reach for my headphones. Don’t get me wrong, I love listening to HamAnd, they make me laugh and feel good and are a wonderfully entertaining way to spend time. But I don’t want to listen to use them as a distraction from how I’m really feeling – I want to enjoy them when it’s time to enjoy them, and to be present when it’s time to be present. And I’m so glad I made that choice. The sun had only just risen, and shielded by a cloud of clouds, its golden light penetrated the barrier and filtered down to the earth. I felt so lucky that I would be witness to such a sunrise for most of the drive home. Out of nowhere (or, more probably, the nearby airport) a plane appeared and was silhouetted against the clouds, a great and majestic bird in flight. And just as I thought “This is one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen”, my car passed over the Swan River and the rising sun was reflected upon the rippling water. I nearly died of pleasure.

So many of the things I worry about never come to pass. Worrying about how to entertain kids on an imaginary camp, how to work with youth in an organisation I no longer work for, where to eat dinner with a friend, how to travel from Point A to Point C from Point B… I could worry about everything in the world, and almost none of it would help me in the slightest. I admire people who casually throw handfuls of gear into a suitcase and then go on an adventure, rather than writing lists and specially packing clothes in a specific order so they’re easy to take out again as needed. It’s just not worth it. But I’ve done it all my life – taken notes on things I’ll never need to remember, planned out outfits that I never needed to wear – that I can’t help but feel my life will fall apart if I stop doing it.

But until it does fall apart, I’ll never be able to rebuild it better, stronger, more stable than ever.

So here’s to letting go of knowing, and to embracing feeling instead. Have wonderful days everybody! Hope to see you all soon.


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