I am often surprised by how shallow our living is. Not shallow as opposed to high-brow, but shallow in terms of depth of engagement and attention. We are so used to being distracted that we don’t even notice that we are. 

Your favourite social media sends you a notification that someone commented on one of your posts or sent you a DM and you decide to check and answer thinking it’s a one-minute job, then five minutes later (or ten of fifteen), you realize you are scrolling through your feed. Someone mentions a book, you check it out, go on that person’s website, subscribe to their newsletter and start reading their blog. I am sure you can think of many other rabbit holes you visit regularly.

We are engaged in the online world but how much are we engaged in our life, engaged with life? As you know, I am experimenting with the idea of subtracting things from my life to see what happens when space and time expand. It’s only been a short while but here are some anecdotes that are getting me thinking…

Many years ago, I worked in a shop called The Talking Book Shop. There was no internet back then, no Audible, so you needed to buy audiobooks on tapes or CDs. There was one called “I Capture the Castle”. I had no idea what it was but neither the title nor the cover inspired me but it sold regularly. Recently, I saw it mentioned two or three times so when browsing on Audible for my next credit, I decided to just check it out. It is written as the journal of a 17-year-old girl in the 1930s whose family lives in a castle but are impoverished, and the reviews were incredible but I thought that this was the kind of books I’d rather have in print, preferably a vintage one. Also, I have many books I really want to read right now so I thought it has to be a “someday” book. During one of my walks, I passed by The Bookshop on the Heath, a vintage bookshop. I browsed but they didn’t have the title. This is the kind of place where you buy books a bit randomly; it’s best not to be looking for a specific title. I was about to exit the shop when I spotted a cardboard box of books strewn in with clear disdain. They looked worthless or in a bad shape. The top one had the round mark of a hot beverage that discoloured the cover of the book. It would have had a dust jacket but I do like books covered in fabric, especially because I like the idea of them having been previously loved. I picked it up but couldn’t read the title on the spine without my reading glasses so I opened it and read: I Capture the Castle.

I was walking with my son and telling him the story and as I got to the part where I said I liked books covered in fabric — he was so bored! — I spotted three piles of books left on the wall of a house front yard. People have been doing that since the pandemic started and many have been clearing their homes, so they leave books or other items on their short front wall. Among the books were fabric-covered books (charming annuals for boys and girls with old-fashion stories, games and illustrations). Wonderful! There was also a book called “The New Naturalist. A Journal” and the previous day I had avidly watched two videos by John Muir Laws, a scientist who keeps nature journals. My son was probably embarrassed but I was like a six-year-old presented with her favourite ice-cream, squealing and saying, “You’ve got to be joking!”

One night this week, I was eating fish and chips with what was left of my birthday Veuve Cliquot Rosé champagne, a combination I never had before in the thousands of meals I’ve had in my life. Now, I need to mention that Amazon has millions of books listed. I finished my meal and carried on reading Ruth Hogan’s “Queenie Malone’s Paradise Hotel” when the main character goes on a date and they have fish and chips with pink champagne. I am not a statistician but I am guessing that the odds of this happening are minuscule. I thought, “Nice wink Universe!”

The other day, I was walking, lost in my thoughts when a former pupil, Lilia, came up to me and said, “Mrs Marsh, when you see Aubrianne, can you tell her that I miss her so much, now that we are not in the same school anymore.” Many thoughts came to my mind like, “When, not if?”, “You still live in the same area so you might want to get in touch somehow’, or “I haven’t seen Aubrianne in a very long time — such a lovely name by the way”, but I said, “Sure!”. Anyway, the following day I was walking in the street and, yeah, you guessed it, Aubrianne was right in front of me!

None of these anecdotes are life-changing apart from the fact that they make me question my whole perspective on life!… I could say that creating more space in my life is inviting these serendipitous events or I could say that the universe is always creating these situations and I am usually too busy to notice. As a mindfulness practitioner, I know that mindful practices have saved my sanity in the last few years but there was obviously still space for improvement because I often get lost in busy-ness. Mindfulness, as I learned, is a practice, but so is life. 

Part of seeing life as a practice is to be more fully present and engaged in the here and now, to follow nudges and pay attention, to turn down busy-ness in favour of intentional action (or inactivity). I am reminded of Steve Maraboli’s words,

“Do not lose today!”

It is not about productivity, rather it is about paying attention. I know it is a daily practice and I know there are many booby-traps on the way, all these things that claim our attention and our time, but I am willing to follow my practice and accept that it will not be perfect. 

What will you notice today?

Valerie 

http://valeriemarsh.com