Every now and then I like to do something a bit random and weird to shock the system – especially when I feel like things are getting a little monotonous and uninspiring.
It reminds me that I’m in control of where I’m headed. keeps things interesting, etc.
So this October I thought I’d try a silent retreat with a mate, because she asked me, I love a bit of weirdness in my life and, WHY NOT.
I can be silent, I thought. EASY. I love quiet.
Doing nothing and being silent is actually really fucking hard.
Last week I was stressed out of my skull trying to keep up with the ‘everything is urgent’ demands at work, submitting my assignments & making an appearance on social media (and my blog) so that people didn’t forget about me – AND MY ADHD MIND, NANCE.
Every task I did at work was multi-tasked with another and I realised I didnt actually take a proper deep breath, all day, till getting in my car of an afternoon. So you can imagine my excitement for my 3 day long binge of peace and quiet and nothingness at my retreat.
On the 45 minute drive out there, I tried to prep myself by turning off the radio and just looking at and listening to what was going on around me.
About 10 mins into the silence, I noticed my mind panicked ever so slightly about all the things that COULD happen to me with no phone service and no one (besides Laura) actually having an address for where I was.
Standard mind shenanigans.
This story telling & catastrophizing got louder as I turned off the main road, onto a narrow, winding gravel road for the last 15 kms of my journey. Checking my phone, it said ‘no service’ – which suddenly made me nervous, Ironically, the day before, I was praying to not ever be bothered by anyone or anything again.
Make up your mind, mate.
It probably didn’t help that my car was low on petrol. My mind toyed with the idea that my car COULD break down out here – in the middle of nowhere – and I’d have no phone reception to ring NRMA, would I?
Like it thought that would just be the end of me and I’d surely die out here.
I argued back (silently) that I had 2 perfectly working legs and I could simply walk to the nearest house to ask for help. And Laura was out here somewhere too – following not far behind me in her car.