What truly needs to be done, now?
Even during this holiday time of year and at this time in my life, with no external timelines placed on me and no need to be anywhere or do anything, I find or catch myself hurrying and covertly rushing.
Rushing to get the current task completed so that, what? I can get onto the next thing? I can have this thing done so I no longer have to be with it or in it? I don’t get pushed over by the queue of things to do that will be piling up behind me (at least in my head anyway)?
In my hurriedness to get the present thing over, I pile on the pressure. I don’t fully give myself to the current task or activity and it therefore risks becoming compromised, half done, with my contentment and sense of fulfillment possibly left hanging.
My anxiety is always called upon – or perhaps it is leading the charge onto the next thing. I understand that my anxiety believes it is doing me a favour by getting me thinking about and already moving onto the next thing. But in these situations, who does it partner with, or get cheered on by? I’ve worked out that it’s my shame, driven by the conditioning of doing more, doing it faster, better and being perfect?
I know that when I do stop, my shame often wants to step forward. It wants to remind me that I’m being lazy, selfish or uncaring (possibly all three), and that this is how others will see me as well. But this is not shame’s fault; it’s just trying to help me live up to the expectations, beliefs, standards or values that inhabit my life. It’s whether these are worthy, helpful or appropriate elements to have in my life now, and whether they ever really belonged to me (but that’s a whole other conversation).
So now I have learned to give my anxiety its moment in the spotlight, without any sidekicks. I can bring it out of the dark, where society has exiled it, and access its wisdom by asking it one important question – “What truly needs to be done?” * And done “now”
This conscious questioning helps me stay in the now, focus on the task at hand and allows that hurriedness to slow or abate. It’s a beautiful check-in with myself, and a loving acknowledgement to my anxiety for its care about my future.
The powerful grip of Time
And this is when I feel the powerful grip of time, and my concern about running out of it; running out of time in the day, the week, and possibly life. But it’s not just any time. I’m talking about Chronos time.
I learned not so long ago that there are two types of time – Chronos and Kairos. Chronos is quantitative, sequential and clock-based time; it’s the time we track with clocks, calendars and schedules. This type of measurement of time began in Greece from the 3rd century BC.
Kairos time (also from the Greeks) is opportune or qualitative time; it’s about the quality or significance of a moment, rather than its duration – so we’re talking deep, meaningful experiences. To embrace Kairos time, we must free ourselves from Chronos’s grip.
Chronos time is always waiting in the wings. I see it and feel it as tyranny, often. Just this morning I caught myself being dragged along by Chronos; speed reading my book so that I could finish the chapter, so that I could start (and finish!) my yoga practice. And then not being able to settle on my mat, as my mind started to do the washing mid-sun salutation.
My anxiety was a cheerleader, or willing team member, but it didn’t realise the game that Chronos was playing. So I reminded myself, and my anxiety, that those other things will have ‘their time’, but not right now. We were changing the rules of the game.
Right now is for right now. And this activity that I am doing in this moment deserves its own time, its own moment.
Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against being planned, prepared and organised. I wish I had more of these natural talents, but thankfully I have my anxiety to keep me anticipating and preparing for the things I need to do. But when the planning and prepping is premature and robs me of the delicious moments in the now, when it pushes me into a state of agitation or even slight panic, making me rush, falter, compromise or even abort my current task or experience, well that’s just unkind and unnecessary.
I love that my awareness to this trickery (and daylight robbery) is happening. I can now be wise and alert to it and therefore make a deliberate decision to be in this moment and with this experience – to be in Kairos.
And if I can be fully in the now, my anxiety will get a break (unless my planning has missed something, in which case anxiety will always have my back), Chronos can release its hold on me, and I can be fully alive.
*Shout out to Karla McLaren and her book 'The Language of Emotions' for the questions we can ask our emotions to access their wisdom.
