To Be, To Listen

Noise. 

It was there when I first emerged into the world. It's always there, I'm accustomed to it--to the point that when it's quiet, I feel like something is missing. 

There's the constant urge to fill moments with noise that have resulted in the inability to be still and to listen. To be still. To be. Whether my phone and the myriad of distractions within, or movement, or the many books I've read, I've forgotten how to exist in silence. 

Yesterday, I went on a surprise visit organised by the Executive Director of Metis, where I'm interning this winter. We ended up at Nairobi National Park, and the open greenness of the park juxtaposed with the city in the background was ideal for thinking, as was the conversation sparked my colleagues, from which two themes emerged: stillness and attention. 

I could contextualise where these came from, but I think that matters less than the fact that they did. And they resonated, deeply. 

I've forgotten how to be still. I've forgotten to use that stillness to pay attention in a way that matters. Instead, stillness is so foreign that it's almost frightening. That I rush to fill it--either with distractions that take me away from it or with ruminations that feed into a growing sense of anxiety about my life, about the future, about my country, about existence itself. 

"Who would you be without your anxiety?" My therapist asked me this question about a year and a half ago and it stopped me in my tracks. It's a question I'm still exploring, and I'm slowly realising that the stillness that feeds my anxiety is the same stillness I'm called to pay attention to in order to dissolve it. 

I have forgotten how to be bored. We as a society have forgotten how to be bored. This has implications on my ability as a 30 year old to create vs. just execute. I can't even begin to imagine what this means for children. 

What does this mean for me, then? 

I'm holding myself accountable, gently, kindly, to be still. To tune into that stillness and pay attention to it and to what matters. To be grateful for the ability and privilege to do so. To stop letting my head be louder than my heart. 

The Space to Create

Pic courtesy of Death to Stock

This weekend, I found a writing prompt in my drafts, and it talked about how we found the space to create. I have no idea where it came from, but to whoever was responsible for sending it my way; thank you!

Our lives have become so busy; sometimes unnecessarily so! Nowadays, we seem incapable of enjoying the simplest of things without the obsessive need to document them. When is the last time you enjoyed a sunset without taking a picture of it? Rather than enjoying and experiencing our own lives, we have become observers.

Let's remember that there's nothing wrong with being observers; but it's important to realise when to stop observing and start experiencing, and if we can, to do them both simultaneously. I'd really rather not look back on my own life 60 years from now and realise I spent all my time collecting memories instead of making them. As a writer who also enjoys photography, this is something I definitely need to be careful about.

In between all the hustle and bustle, how do we find the space and stillness needed to create, to translate our observation and experience into something we can share? A lot of my inspiration to write comes in the times when my mind is undistracted and allowed to roam free; like when I'm in the shower, or the moments at night before I fall asleep. However, inspiration also comes at busy times; a conversation with a stranger, a class, a movie that makes me think. 

I think for me, the important issue is being able to translate these moments of inspiration into actual creation. I've heard it said that 'we don't have enough time', but I like to think of the fact that I have the same 24 hours a day that people like Einstein, Tolkien and Richard Branson did. The space to create is not just a physical place; it's a time, a mood, an uninterrupted expression.

As a writer, I unfortunately don't have the flexibility to sit down and write whenever the mood strikes, so I find it helpful to reflect on my ideas, and what inspired me, and to find a time to sit down uninterrupted to put my ideas down on a page. At the end of the day, I just need to be dedicated about it.

Creation isn't necessarily related just to art; how do YOU find the space you need to create?