Grains of Sand

On how we fill our mind

So I didn’t write last week. Well, that’s not exactly true… I wrote a great deal, just didn’t post it. I had so much on my mind on so many topics, but every time I wrote, it became an angry rant about crazy people believing stupid things that ruin the world. None of it was in the spirit of what I wanted to put out “there” so I couldn’t hit publish on anything.

I’m thinking a lot about what I focus on. Since the terror attack on the Capitol, I’ve been endlessly hitting refresh on all my favorite news sources (Washington Post, New York Times, CNN), waiting for the next big alert. It hasn’t been conducive to peace of mind and productivity. So much to say on what’s happened, but am putting it off until I have a less emotional response. 

It has made me think about the radicalization of my fellow citizens. And that’s truly what I believe it to be. A steady diet of Rush Limbaugh, Fox Fiction and now the more extreme versions has created a population of people who think they are constantly under attack, in need of defending themselves, the only true patriots and that Donald Trump is the greatest president ever. They have become the very thing in 2001 they despised: radical extremists. 

I dabbled once in the Rush’s world… My father listened to him back in the early 90s. I gave him a try. There were times he said things and I was like, “yeah, I get this.” But the more I listened, the more I thought, “wait a minute, this guy is nuts!” Then I stopped listening. 

But if you spend decades consuming nothing but nonsense about how you and everything you believe is under attack, it’s not at all hard to imagine how we’ve ended up in a state of civil war. 

I was planning to devote much of this post to the radicalization of Americans through the media, but this morning I read Boston College professor Heather Cox Richardson’s post largely on the same subject. She manages it with objectivity, clarity and a remarkable ability to place it all in historical context. So instead of reinventing the wheel, I shall strongly recommend her great work.

Then I’ll move swiftly on to my second point - filling one’s time and one’s soul. 

Last year, a colleague and I wanted a coffee between meetings in London. Upon entering Cafe Boheme, I was transported to Paris in the 20s and 30s, where Sartre worked toward Being and Time and Simone de Beauvoir studied hard at the Sorbonne to achieve her independence. 

Cafe Boheme, Soho, London

I was reminded of my beloved Stella’s, the smokey, dark, broody cafe of my university years, where philosophers played chess in the back, Billie Holiday crooned on the speakers and I once remarked as I read Oliver Twist at a common table where others were tackling Ulysses and The Leviathan that my book had pictures. I loved it there, though I always felt I was observing the scene of budding scholars and intellectuals as a member of an audience  rather than a member of their company, much as I wanted to be.

Stella’s, on its last day in 2015

Beyond the seaside, no place fills me with more pleasure than an art deco-looking restaurant where deep thoughts and great literature are consumed and produced. Yet, I have so rarely found or allowed myself the pleasure of entering one since my university days. Why is that, I wonder?

I currently sit in my tiny office - and fortunate I feel to have “a room of one’s own.” The walls are cobalt blue and lined with bookcases holding those treasures that have survived my multitude of moves over the years. This room, full to bursting with books, papers, memorabilia and what Nick derisively calls “tat,” is where I am best able to find “myself” - the me I’ve been, who I wish I was and dream about becoming. 

In here are books I’ve promised myself since college I will read… and slowly, finally (with occasional help from Audible), I’m keeping that promise. In here are pictures of moments where I achieved small victories or where I picture future ones. 

But when I’m in here, if I’m honest, I allow myself far too much distraction. Too many responses to group WhatsApp posts. Too many searches for the latest political scandals, followed by too many drafted words that will never be read to argue with political leaders or people I know. Or - and this really upsets me - much too much time wasted on clever Twitter clickbait - any time on that is too much time!

This is the year that changes. I have a romantic image of myself consuming philosophy and history like I used to rather than just tweets and posts. I’m sure this will help my soul find itself and will grease the wheels of my mind. Moreover, I hope it will limit the expenditure of useless emotion, the anger that builds without an outlet for things I can’t control. 

I wonder how many of us spend our time wisely? How many use free moments to find what our souls yearn for and feed on? I have one friend who has taught herself piano and another who takes university courses. My sister has discovered a passion for digital sketching and my sister-in-law creates beautiful needlepoint work. I find this all so inspirational. 

I admit I’ve made this promise in the past, but I feel something changing in me. And in this new year - as things reach a head and we seem dangerously close to a civil war caused, at least partially, by the poor choices people make regarding what they feed their mind and with what they fill their time, I feel ready to make a lasting conversion. 

Oh - and while I usually don’t listen to music while I write because I struggle to concentrate, I’ve just started playing dear Billie. It makes my own little space feel just a touch more like one of those smokey cafes - the rest is in my imagination. Yes, this could be a very good year for the soul...

Below, my admonition to myself about “spending” time. 

Grains of Sand

Do not waste your grains of sand on daily woes

the soap opera of sound and image that never grows

The beat of drum that never varies

Drama, hardship and injustice married

Instead ask who you're meant to be

How can you see opportunity

to find within authentic self

One's central treasure, heart's true wealth

Why pass a moment in pursuit

of that which leaves your mind's voice mute

How empty most glasses are

How distant our inner star

that guides us toward our purpose and pleasure

How wasted are most moments of leisure?

Have a thought for how you fill 

Each moment you are granted till

The last deep breath that brings the night

And leaves behind unlimited sight

How will you feel about how you've spent

The pennies of time that you've been lent

Close your eyes and take a breath

And wonder how much more is left

Spend your hours on what matters most to you

Let fulfilment be your one pursuit.

PS Having tested this out and seen how long it takes to write about what interests me, I’ve decided to make this a Sunday special. If you enjoy, keep an eye out (and please subscribe)!