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Teacher Heidi, that wise guru who nurtured my children through the preschool years, structured magical school days with the rhythms of breath. Like a yoga master, she mentored everyone who crossed her path - kids and adults alike - in the ways of calm, instructing us on how to move through the world in balance. Outward exhalations in the form of running, climbing, exploring, cooking, organizing, emailing, etc., etc., require inhalations of less targeted action - things like daydreaming, imaginative play, reading (or maybe just looking at the pictures). It made a lot of sense.
Of course I don’t live like that.
I certainly see the value, am up for the challenge to weigh my exertions against times of “filling the well.” In truth, life would probably all go more smoothly if I could seem to wrap my daily brain around such temperate, self-moderating behavior. But like so many of us in this sense-catching world of shiny, sparkly things, earworms, and potential brass rings, I’m vulnerable to the call of opportunity. And opportunism makes it hard to breathe easily.
When I’m trying so hard to make the most of my creative life, how can I not join that challenge, participate in that workshop, listen to that podcast, reach out to that author-editor-agent-collaborator, put myself forward for that prize? When I do, I so frequently emerge breathless, heart-thumping, endorphins activated. And then I have to relearn that sitting still is not procrastination. It’s not laziness or lack of creative connection. There’s magic in inhalation too.
Those of us wired to exhale (“You Americans!” Swiss Teacher Heidi would say…”You always want MORE”) have to remember that breathing is not a one-way process. As much as we collect accolades for what we DO out in the world, the moments of just BEING, in the quietude of homebases or in agenda-less rest have just as much value. And not only will we find satisfaction in the busy pursuit of novelty, we can reconnect with wonder in the appreciation of slower, more ordinary pleasures. We need to inhale.
How do you do it?
In my own seeking to resettle myself, I appreciate Ted Gioia’s assertion of ritual and repetition as antidotes to modern “dopamine culture”:
Rituals cannot be uploaded or downloaded. They are sources of joy and stability in everyday life. Instead of the ceaseless quest for novelty embedded in scrolling, ritual offers the deeper satisfaction of mindful repetition.
It also offers the magic of a deep breath.
Small ritual pleasures like starting each morning, mug in hand, or running the same route with the same partners a couple times a week, are not particularly shiny, exciting, or wondrous. But I’m starting to see how these rhythms of regularity prepare me for opportunity and help me recover from it.
Lighting a candle, repeating an invocation, following a pattern of steps can calm the agitations of striving and deadlines. I don’t need to pile more on more to “twitch” my brain into steady regularity.
So I am thinking about a new shorthand - wouldn’t it really be magical, if we could hearken to opportunities’ calls, without twisting our lives out of balance to meet them? For those of us not quite yogic enough to remember to breathe regularly on our own- no judgement, we’re all still practicing here - I advocate focused opportunism. To me, that means don’t hold back, mired in indecision…
But “go for it” in a way that bites off just a piece of regular, not all of it.
We may not be able to craft our days and weeks with the structural rigor of an early childhood educator. Everyone knows adults are far harder to keep in line. But with focused opportunism, the idea is to catch some of the possibilities that grab attention amidst the muchness of life and work, yet keep our inflows and outflows in rhythm.
It takes some effort, of course. For example, today I returned from a short trip intending pick up the threads of last week’s schedule. But tomorrow there’s a contest, a ready rabbit hole for my best energies, complete with time delimited urgency and the possibility of rewards. I’m tempted to breathlessly drop best-laid plans to participate. It will go better if I can focus on the opportunity, without losing the big picture. Channeling the magic of Teacher Heidi, the goal is to…
Put the opportunity into context
This contest is targeted at the kind of work I do roughly 30% of the time. Do I really want to put my whole day into it, or just 30%? I can set that time aside and call it enough.
Give the opportunity its place in the regular rhythm
It’s going to spin up my emotional energy, raising hopes and activating my appreciation-seeking brain. How can I counter that intensity? What kind of inhale can follow that exhale and serve my goals? I can plan that into my day.
Prepare a bridge between the opportunity and ordinary activities
I’m great at getting lost in the shiny new chance. By contrast, any everyday work seems easily put-off-able, which means it’s always getting put off ☹ But if I link the social media contest to the social media networking already on my to-do list (I’ll be there anyway, right?) or the picture book pitching to picture book reading (two types of energy, same area of work), I can use opportunity as a lever rather than seeing it as altogether separate.
Plan ahead on “the downslope”
Instead of letting heart-thumping intensity derail my more measured rhythms, I can take a little time to anticipate and accommodate the swings of opportunism. I’ve had most success considering next steps at the end of a workday - “the downslope” - when later seems less urgent. I can make my to-do list for tomorrow’s opportunity as I wind down today. And after the feelings of “all in” have passed with the deadlines, I can note next next steps in the continuing cycle of my work, reminding myself it’s about more than the momentary froth.
I’m sure none of this orderliness feels particularly like magic. Just the opposite, in fact. But the net effect of harnessing opportunism is more than strategic. When I do it, I feel empowered, not crazed, focused, but with room to dive in to something more spontaneous. I can breathe - Teacher Heidi would approve.