I am listening to a Headspace meditation series on Focus this week. My middle name is “distractible.” You too?! We all struggle to stay on task with everyone and their brother or sister clamoring for our attention.
Wait… what’s that over there? A shiny object! The to-do list calls. “Yoo-hoo. You forgot something.” I add Something. Capital ‘S’? Little ‘s’? Either way, is it necessary? Did I stop what I was doing? YAASSS!
Workus interruptus. It’s a new Latin term recently resurrected from the La Brea Tar Pits in Los Angeles, California. Really. Just last week. You didn’t hear about it? WI as they called it to save time was brand new back in the day just after the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, and the Latin speakers then (yes, there were a few) coined the term. A careless tourist to Los Angeles dropped the WI write-up while visiting the area that is now the La Brea Tar Pits, where the dinosaur bones were buried in the muck.
No one wanted to go in to fish out the term at the time, and WI only reinserted itself into the lexicon as the tectonic plates shifted ever so slightly, bubbling new tar and the term workus interruptus to the surface. Last week. It was in the news.
What a find!
[P.S. Spell Check is having a FIT right now. “Fix it. Fix it!” she says underlining furiously. I think she’s having a fainting ‘spell.’]
The Headspace app does not mention this phenomenon directly. But it does mention, of course, the importance of being aware of distractions and interruptions. One of the tricks Andy Puddicombe (the founder of Headspace) mentions is clearing your workspace. Think “Outer Order, Inner Calm” as in Gretchen Rubin’s book.
So, I will busy myself cleaning my desk drawers. Talk about workus interruptus!?!?
“If you don’t have the experience of something you’re not at liberty to write about it.”
Do you agree?
Can I tell if I’m telling my truth? Am I writing for an audience that I’m trying to impress? Am I trying to impress you right now?
Here’s what I want you to know: I struggle to tell the truth because sometimes I don’t know what it is until I write about it. Which… is probably why I write.
What’s the truth?
In recalling from altMBA that we are all irrational, I can assure myself that even if I think I’m telling the truth, I’m probably not. Or maybe, it’s my truth today, but it will be different tomorrow. Is that possible? Does truth change day-to-day?
Do you want the truth? “You can’t handle the truth,” Jack Nicholson’s character says in the movie A Few Good Men. The truth can remind me of something. It may remind me of hurt. I don’t know. Or happiness? OR wishes, that are not the truth… just wishful thinking.
Here’s the thing: Stuff “above the fold” or at the top of the iceberg above the water may or may not be the truth. The stuff below is the ‘truth-y’ stuff. And I should go there more often to write my truth, even if it hurts, and maybe even if I have not experienced it directly. Is that cheating?
I had a silly, wide grin on my face the whole time behind my mask… I was happy.
I attended my first in-person Flamenco class last night since March 2020.
And. It. Was. Awesome.
I had a silly, wide grin on my face the whole time behind my mask, but I saw it in my eyes in the mirror. I was happy.
I danced ballet starting when I was five, but alas, dancing in toe shoes eight years later was my undoing. Call it “Achilles Toes.” It was not for my feet. Then, six years ago, I discovered flamenco. And I was horrible at first. Then, little by little, I learned to shift my weight. Move my feet. Connect my arms, legs, and hands, wear flowers in my hair, and big ruffly skirts! And we dancing ‘flamencas’ are connected in our earnest endeavor to master that which is as old as the gypsies and dates back to India centuries ago.
When was the last time you tried something for the first time? Well, flamenco may not be your cup of tea, but I liked it. What did you do when you were five that you could do now? Or something related? Have FUN!!! Grin with your whole body. Oh, and sweat too.