I am fresh back from a week on the beach, and my head is NOISY. On my week off, I read 4 books and worked on my own book, and made wild mindmappy notes on several other major projects. Now I'm back and behind in some ways and open to change and there are people to meet and wow, it's loud in here.
Now I have a choice.
I know how to make it quiet and I know that quiet feels good. Part of what I am doing in writing this post is reaching for some quiet so I can feel productive.
I have been reading Imagine by Jonah Lehrer. It contains a useful reminder that what feels good and what looks productive and what really works might all be different. I can look productive and feel good in the quiet. The noise is probably making me better.
It's like covering the entire wall with post-it notes and pictures and diagrams in many different shapes and sizes and colours. The wall reminds me that everything fits. In my head, that wall sounds noisy and dissonant. It's the dissonance, that sense of noise, that means that everything is still in play. I can make it quiet, deliberately. It's a skill that I own. But if I use it too soon, I'll miss something I need.
So here I am. My week of relaxing has created noise and busy-ness and a kind of low-grade tension that is almost (but not quite) a headache. And it's all good. This is what it takes for me to breakthrough to the next level.
Lots of people don't like this. They want me to be calm and comfortable and focused at all times. I have spent years feeling guilty or broken or frustrated by people who accuse me of needing chaos and unhappiness to be productive. Thank you, Jonah Lehrer, for spelling it out. It's not just me. This is the process. Most of the ideas that have changed and enriched us came from a similar kind of tension and chaos.
So - do I like the way I am experiencing the world this morning? Not so much. Am I willing to change it? Not yet. This is an angel I am willing to wrestle until I can claim a blessing from it.