Life Hobby
I’m somehow, despite a perfected and well-designed life, out of sorts this morning. Nothing is as it should be. Expectations and standards that have been self-imposed since who knows when and who knows why are rarely met. There is no milk for the coffee, no butter for the eggs, and a mild headache is brewing on the back burner of my amygdala.
The floors are swept and mopped, the dishes put away, bathroom scrubbed, laundry folded, and breakfast, among other things, has already been planned and it’s barely 7am on a Saturday. What do others do with themselves in the morning hours? Sleep I suppose. These are the possible symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder as it has been pointed out to me by a professional.
I’ve been swimming in the passive planning lane as far back as I can recall. That is, thinking of things beyond now that seem important only because a fear builds that I might forget them. But passive planning has the disadvantage of bringing you out of now where things are happening, like sipping on an iced coffee (even though it lacks a hearty whole milk) in my robe in the early hours of the day where the light is just so and so is the silence.
In the passive planning lane, one is concentrated on an area of future events that are either about to occur or might occur in the near or far future. However, the focus on one specific area means you’re also not planning an infinite amount of other things which means, technically speaking, you’ve forgotten them because you’re not currently thinking of them. That’s enough to cause anxiety. So what to do?
Must I swim in the active participation lane instead and plan only when necessary in the now moment that occurs where the mind says, ‘Hey, you’d better write me down so you don’t forget?’ and then otherwise, go about living without expectations or plans? What might such a life look like?
My homework this week, by way of the aforementioned professional, was to have a day of no expectations. I did all of the same things I might do on a day where expectations are expected, although, this time I added a car wash. Cleaning is my main life hobby. I scrub a mean toilet, however, there seems to be a glitch in my perfectionist system as the pile of disorderly plastic bags under the sink grows considerably and somehow, without unease or embarrassment. I’ll accept it as a possibility that I might just be able to enjoy significant relief from my symptoms…some day in the future but certainly not now. There is too much to do, like vacuuming, dusting, bills, and more laundry. Always there is laundry and never enough time.
Is it that most people use the made up concept of time to their advantage rather than having time use them by adhering to unusual ideas of numbers somehow indicating something about now, such as “4pm on Sunday” which essentially means nothing unless one has made it conceptually into something? There seem to be only questions and never sufficient or at least satisfactory answers. I do wonder how Siddhartha would have done his taxes or decided on the specifics of laundry day. I bet he would’ve been a Tide man.
