Mindless escape, heck any escape from the stress inherent in daily living has really gotten a bad rep.
Personally, I am a giant fan of escaping and have been all my life. Movie theaters saved my life as a young child, they provided a breather from parents who drank and argued too much. Every Saturday, I climbed into those seats and left it all behind.
We live and work in the most productive country in the world. Proud to be an American, yes? But there are consequences, our deal with the Devil. We suffer from the highest level of stress, experience more coronaries on Monday mornings, have the highest suicide rate and have less vacation/holiday time than any other developed country. Not so proud of that part.
People pride themselves in not doing “mindless” things. Even our recreation seems to be performance-driven for many. How hot does a room need to be to do yoga? And how many of us have seen people actually recoil when admitting we watched “The Bachelor” or “So You Think You Can Dance”? The look that says, “I thought you were better than that!”
Here’s what I believe…we all need mindlessness. Some can get it with Mindfulness (Meditation), but there are a thousand ways to escape and allow that VERY bright, busy, productive mind of yours to rest, for God’s sake. It needs to rest.
Here are some of my favorites…
1. Watching “The Bachelor” Yep, I’m copping to it.
2. Going to a matinee to see a chick flick, animated movie, or one with Hugh Grant in it and who cares about reviews! Matinees make you feel like you are playing hooky!
3. Dancing wildly in my living room to a little bit of Stevie Wonder’s “Fingertips”
4. Reading People magazine
5. Climbing on the back of a good friend’s motorcycle
What are some of yours? It’s OK, tell me. Nobody’s listening…Let’s start a”Mindless” Movement!
“In the wee small hours of the morning, when the whole wide world is fast asleep…”
It is one of my favorite old songs, and one of the most beautiful times of the day. A time of uncluttered honesty when the soul speaks to us, something to be treasured and never rushed.
Before you open your eyes and begin thinking of all the things you have to do today, allow yourself to listen to what is really important to your true self, the one you might have forgotten. This tiny window of time is precious.
Do you feel sick and need to nurture yourself? Is something bothering you that happened at work? Does the memory of something good that happened to you wash over you? An idea that you feel excited about gets your heart pumping…before the voices say anything to squash it. Is there something you need to say to someone?
The morning is an ideal time to listen to ourselves. Our defenses are down, we are beautifully vulnerable and this is a shining moment of truth-telling straight from our soul. So, don’t miss it. Just lay there and listen.
FTD must have been the original St. Valentine, or the Saint was a hell of an entrepreneur.
Roses are synonymous with The Big Red Heart day. Thanks to the media, not a man alive escapes the message that your sweetheart will give you ANYTHING if you remember the roses. And, according to Valentine’s Day rules, the ones in buckets at the local grocery store don’t count.
Well, I certainly believed that my husband knew that, but in case he didn’t, as we strolled by the downtown florist I “oooed” and “ahhhed” over those “roses in the window”. Now, I was SURE he got the message!
Enter V Day in rural Maine. The year, 1983. It was the same year we had purchased our first desktop computer and Dell became a household word. I was like a kid playing in the mud about that computer. A burgeoning writer, the idea of never again using carbon paper and easy editing was almost orgasmic.
I woke up to the second day of a Nor’easter. The lake in front of our house was frozen solid, the roads plowed during the night were now piling up once again. My first thought was that those florist delivery trucks would make it no matter what. So, the titillating wait began.
My husband dressed and shoveled his way to the car heading for the hospital where he worked. I guessed he was preoccupied with weather when he didn’t mention Valentine’s Day, so I let it go. The roses would mend everything.
Not only were there no florist delivery vans on the road that day, but it was hard for a snow plow to stay upright. As darkness came and it was time for my husband’s return from work, I put on a little black dress, opened a bottle of wine and put the kids to bed. On the counter was a lovely crystal vase just waiting for those roses.
The door opened and brushing off the snow, he said, “What’s for dinner?” What??? OK, he was going to surprise me. The roses were in the car and I began to worry that they would freeze, but poured us both a glass of wine. Since he hadn’t said those magic words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” I took the initiative (It was the era of feminism after all).
He then pulled a brown paper bag out of his briefcase and handed it to me with a smile and a toast. I couldn’t believe what I pulled out of that bag…a book! Are you kidding me, I thought. A book! It was an early version of Computers for Dummies. To add insult to injury, it was a book about computers! That is second only to a blender for your anniversary. I was surprised, disappointed and really pissed and it all came rolling out of my mouth. “You got me a BOOK for Valentine’s Day?” I said. And then I saw his face lose all signs of life and joy. As he walked away, I felt so ashamed and yet, I was still filled with disappointment and confusion. How could he not know I wanted roses for Valentine’s Day? Remember the walk by the florist window? Any man with a brain should know his sweetheart wants roses.
After what seemed like hours, he reappeared and we sat down to a cold dinner, half a candle and a Golden Retriever who had retreated under the table. “Donna, do you know what I went through to get you that book? I wanted you to enjoy the computer because I know how important writing is to you, so I drove in a blizzard all the way to Boston (almost 200 miles) to get this book for you. I thought you would appreciate it, but I can see you don’t.”
My heart sank. I knew that all the apologies in the world could not make up for the words I could never take back.
That day my life changed in ways that were profound and permanent. For the first time I knew that men want to make us happy. That they have their own ways of showing love. That they cannot read our minds. That our expectations of them are based not on their world, but on our preconceived notions of what love looks like.
That Valentine’s Day love came from Barnes and Noble, not from Teleflora. It came with such beautiful intention and thought. All I had to do was be open to what HE called love. It changed me forever and though I am still waiting for those roses, I know that one day love will bring them my way.