Icicles of Death
Practice Off The Mat
Vol. 2 Issue 2
Keep your head on a swivel and your wits about you!
On Tuesday, I went out to clean up the driveway some more from Monday’s storm. Fresh air, full body integrated movement, a warm sun, and bright puffy clouds – perfect.
The sun felt warm, the clumps of snow falling off branches and utility poles added a steady beat to the sounds rhythm of the neighborhood. Even the breeze didn’t feel cold. And then, there was a sound that landed right next to me: SPLATCHTHUNK!
AN ICICLE FROM TWO STORIES ABOVE ME
CRASHED INTO THE SNOW MISSING MY HEAD BY ABOUT 4 INCHES.
Holy fudge.
I looked up and noticed the Icicles of Death. A row of frozen daggers dangling precariously from the edge of the roof. Drips of water landing on the driveway, then my face. As the sun slowly made its way around their melting increased to the point of falling.
How the hell did I miss that? How the hell did it miss me?
Second part is easy: luck.
The first part is easy too: distraction. My attention was pulled into a million directions none of which was really focused on what I was doing or happening around me. Thoughts that ran through my head:
My projects at work. My teaching schedule. Upcoming workshops I am planning. What is for dinner. People that used to be a part of my life but have disappeared. The next storm and the fact that the city hasn’t cleared the snowbank in front of our house so there’s nowhere to put the next round so will we be trapped? Should I try for the Crow Athletics Sea to Summit race series this year? Do we need milk? Is Wednesday’s class 7:00 AM or 6:30 AM? Why the hell did I say that stupid thing in 6th grade? I am definitely making a pumpkin pie for the snowstorm...
You get the idea.
My mind was anywhere but where I was.
THE FLOW OF THE MOMENT
Recently I was listening to the Plum Village podcast. Brother Phap Huu talked about staying connected to the present moment. The past is gone and never coming back. The future hasn’t arrived and isn’t guaranteed. The only moment that we have is the one we are in.
He stacked that against the myriad distractions that we have demanding our attention and how it is difficult to try and reconcile with staying present.
He went on to describe the idea of the “present” as a constant flowing stream of movement. And sometimes we are in that stream. But a lot of times we aren’t. The practice of mindfulness can help identify those moments when we are out of the stream. Check in and ask why. Then see if we can come back to it. Bringing our full attention to engage with through our thoughts, actions, speech, feelings, etc.
It is when we are outside of the flow from moment to moment where danger and surprises occur. In this case, the Icicles of Death.
Consider other examples (maybe some of these sound familiar):
At the airport people move in all directions at once. Ian Malcom would argue there is a pattern somewhere in the chaos, but for the most part it’s all over the place. Maybe your ankle is clipped by someone’s roller bag as you think “What the hell? Am I invisible?” (Perhaps you’ve even been the person doing the bumping-into? No shame! It happens!)
While driving: You end up at your destination and you said to yourself “wait, what happened between the store and here?”
At home making dinner and in the middle of laundry, scoping the TV, checking the phone, playing with the cat, all while writing your next email newsletter and the smoke detector goes off because the grilled cheese just got a little extra crispy.
There are infinite examples of similar moments of distraction. I am sure that you can come up with so many more.
WHAT DO YOU DO?
The first part is just being aware. That is no small task and takes practice. Don’t judge, don’t assess it a positive or negative connotation. Just acknowledge it, “Oh, I am really distracted.” Then, once you acknowledge it, you can choose what to do next.
Maybe a couple rounds of focusing on just your breath. Breathing in: “I am here now.” Breathing out: “Here I am.”
On Tuesday, I chose to use something a focal point: the clouds moving across the deep blue sky. I paused. I then started to breathe with each cloud passing by. Then I thought about the flotsam drifting around my mind: ideas, feelings, thoughts, people, relationships. As I landed on one thing, I tagged it to a cloud. As it drifted away, I exhaled and asked to loosen my grip on it.
After a few minutes, I went back to my shoveling.
More aware of what was around me. More intentional with what I was doing.
And that’s the practice. Our technology crazed, fast paced, productivity obsessed era demands a lot from you. It is easy to fall out of the stream of the moment. But with practice you can start to recognize that more easily. And then you can engage accordingly.
And who knows, maybe avoid an Icicle of Death in the process.
The good news is that because you have a loving and kind heart, you are naturally capable. Sometimes it just takes a little practice to remember.
Take care of yourself. You are the only of you out there. We need you.
Chris