Laceless shoes

On slowing down and being present

There are many activities in life that we hurry through. And most don’t deserve it. A sit-down session on the toilet. Eating. Foreplay. Brushing our teeth. Putting on our shoes. Shaving. Having a conversation with someone. Driving from here to there. While it can be done quickly and still be very satisfying if quick, it is oh so much better when you take a few minutes.

Oops moments

Have you ever dropped a slick pickle jar or salad dressing bottle cuz you were trying to grab more than one thing with one hand? On the tile of the kitchen floor? That’ll slow you down having to clean up the mess of glass particles. Especially if you fancy bare feet in the house—and have pets. I have a particular move I call the “sweep.” There is something that needs to be picked up, moved, put back, or taken down—and I’m confident (or mindless) that I can perform that task without stopping to actually focus on it. Instead, I grab it on the fly as I move past. Or another of my favorites—opening a door with my hands completely full. Car door. House door. Refrigerator door. Multiple grocery bags slung up over my wrists so that I can carry 4 or 5 of them in each hand so that I can get all the bags into the house in one trip. Except for the door that stands between me and a successful arrival at the countertop.

And to save time—for what exactly? It takes sixty seconds to go back to the garage and grab another load of grocery sacks a second time. But. I. Must. Do. It. In. One. Trip.

Focus Grasshopper…

Life all around is a rush. Too much stimulus. Too much information. Too many choices. We’ve been trained to or forced to multitask. See us walking down a busy sidewalk with 90% of our focus on the phone in our left hand. 8% on the eight feet in front of us, glancing up periodically to avoid running into someone or something. Exactly 2% of our focus is on the rest of the world around us.

How many conversations do you observe or participate in when it feels like the other person just can’t wait to say what they need to say to you? Or they’re looking over your shoulder for that other person in the room. Or glancing down at their phone while talking to you. Annoying as hell. I try desperately to not be that person. Quite often, if I sense someone that I’m talking to is doing that, I simply stop and look at them until they make eye contact and reengage. Awkward. But effective.

Multitasking is a myth. The fairy tale sold to busy people as some sort of solution to the overwhelming nature of our world simply doesn’t work. “According to neuroscience,” says Dr. Mary K. Napier, PHD, “that’s not how the brain works. We can’t actually perform mental tasks simultaneously—we’re just switching very quickly between tasks.” Napier, a Distinguished Professor Emerita at Boise State University, and Executive MBA professor of strategy and leadership, continues “the start/stop process is actually hard on us and costs time rather than saving time.”

While it’s true that multiple physical mini tasks can be performed simply by coordination and effort, the brain is only assigning a subconscious focus on the task. This leads to the oft described “oops” moment of dropping the jar or oversteering the wheel or tripping on the curb. The mind is consciously focused elsewhere.

Eating with chopsticks while having a conversation and observing the other diners around you. Brushing your teeth while thinking about the day ahead. Grabbing the coffee cup and the keys and the wallet off the counter while balancing the laptop bag. All physical tasks done repeatedly that allow for simple mindless execution.

Shoelaces

For years as a multi-tasker, I preferred laceless running shoes. My go-to choice was Salomon Speedcross shoes, equipped with the pull tab. All you need do is plant your foot inside and yank up on the heel. Perfect fit—ready to rock n’ roll. I got to where I could literally step into both of them while nearly still moving and then deal with the heel cup while striding out the door. Another funny twist in my own home is that when I sit down on the edge of the bed or a chair to lace up shoes, my four rescue dogs take it as a cue that it’s playtime. My face is down at their level and its nearly impossible to get the shoes tied while they’re mauling me.

Recently I’ve switched over to On “Cloud” running shoes—yes, with laces. Why? In an attempt to be more mindful and present in each and every precious moment of my life.

Mindful acts

Mindfulness of any kind wasn’t a thing in my life for a very long time. In recovery, there is a clearing out of old habits, old narratives, and old tapes that play in our heads. It takes time. It takes the rest of our lives. In my case, I can witness my own personal growth almost as a stock market chart—trending up over time, with periods of upward spikes and downward plunges albeit generally short-lived. Getting clean and sober is referred to by many in the programs as the practice of cleaning up the past, and then keeping our own side of the street clean going forward.

But its more than that by a long measure. The biggest danger for alcoholics and addicts is the dreaded relapse. Even if the rest of our lives is a complete shit show, as long as we don’t pick up we can’t make it worse. We may not always know how to make it better, but the prospects are certainly worse if we go back to circling the drain. So how does one prevent relapse? Those that don’t understand addiction often think of relapse as a sudden thing. “Holy shit—she had 9 years clean and sober—went to a party—relapsed and died.” Tragic. But that is just not how it works. Those of us closer to the issue know that a relapse is the caboose at the end of the train going by. It’s the “boom” as a result of mixing the combustible fuel elements of pent up, unresolved feelings or issues, and striking the match of questionable decisions. Relapse doesn’t surprise an addict. It’s an inevitable cul-de-sac at the end of getting yourself lost.

Mindfulness is an important but overused word in the lexicon. It can mean anything from true self-awareness and presence on a moment-by-moment basis, to yoga to eating vegan. All good things—but it’s too broad for me. As of this moment I think I’ll change the way I refer to it. I shall now call it minding my business of the moment.

Kinda harkens back to an old Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference: “We are no longer the Knights who say "Ni!" We are now the Knights who say "Ekke Ekke Ekke Ekke Ptang Zoo Boing!”

I digress.

For me all of this is about pausing. Stopping. Slowing down. Thinking about the next right thing. Trust me I still screw it up plenty. But at least I do it with some forethought and good intent most of the time. Especially if I’m agitated about something—that is the perfect opportunity to pause before mindlessly rushing into something that I might regret saying or doing. The something that I’m agitated about is usually completely unrelated to the thing that I just screwed up doing or saying. It happened yesterday in my own relationship. Ann and I were discussing travel plans and I suddenly went after her on how we seem to just talk about plans rather than actually making plans. (which isn’t actually true—we normally bust a move quite easily.)

She looked at me like “WTF?” What I realized much later upon self-reflection was that some of my own financial fears had surfaced. Feelings about not being able to properly afford some of the things we were discussing had hijacked my attention during the conversation. I apologized and clarified. But it’s a perfect example of how NOT to be in the moment of the thing that you’re actually discussing or doing. We all do it—it creeps in so invisibly.

Part of my practice involves a regular morning routine. If I stick with it, I find the days go much better. If I miss it, abort it, or speed through it, my chances of a calm, productive day are lessened. It doesn’t take long. There are several steps including a short meditation, slowly sipping my one cup of coffee, staying off my phone, preparing and feeding the dogs their breakfast, and yes—lacing up my sneaks one shoe at a time. Then we all go for our morning walk. Anything and everything can potentially get in the way of this routine, so it’s a priority to protect it as best I can.

Minding my own business of the moment. Which means this essay is concluded. It’s time for a slow and enjoyable lunch.