and the art of farting around

Recently, while in line at a drive-through coffee window, I felt a sudden pang of angst. The dopamine hit of an easy caffeine pick-me-up while my two little ones stayed strapped in the backseat paled in comparison to the nagging feeling of living out of alignment. I had forsaken my ethos, choosing convenience over connection.

This action, seemingly small, is the antithesis of who I hope to be. I am infinitely inspired byKurt Vonnegut’s wisdom about the art of farting around, an account of all the interactions he has simply by leaving his house to buy one envelope rather than ordering 100 to his home. Yet here I found myself talking to a screen rather than a human because I didn't want to go through the rigmarole of getting my kiddos out of their carseats...

Our modern era emphasizes busyness, perfectionism and efficiency, often leading to a life isolated. It is when I’m at my busiest that I seek a quick reprieve, the easy way out, convenience over connection. I purchase things and eat food and drink coffee without ever interacting with the hands that touched it before me.

During a dharma talk this past Teacher Training, we pondered the question "What is Enough?"  Recognizing we live in a world where water, food, shelter are unfortunately not a given, we intellectually answer this question with those basic survival needs, believing that should be enoughto feel content.

But is it?

something to revere rather than fear

As I drive Dalton to preschool through the gold and crimson forest roads, eerie Halloween decor peeping through the thick fog that blankets each turn, I have an overwhelming sense of thankfulness for Fall and all it brings. 

I soon realize that its not just Fall I am in love with. It's the change. I feel the same way with the first falling snow, when buds first peek out in Spring and those first long, warm Summer evenings. 

Each season's change is a call for presence. 

And while freshness begs for our attention, how soon will it be until I check-out on the beauty of our morning commute or walk past a tree—leaves a blazin'—without a moment for complete absorption, utter appreciation?

the importance of a shitty first draft

Well, I finally finished my first newsletter since we transitioned to our new system. Please excuse this shamefully long absence. I can’t tell you how many late evenings and early mornings I’ve spent starting and stopping, staring at my uninspired design aesthetic, frustrated by my insufficient creativity.

As a self-taught graphic designer, I spend way more time than I'd like to admit perfecting the look, adjusting images right, left then right again; pairing fonts; more spaces between letters, less between lines... I waste time (I don't have) absorbed in the minutia that isn't central to the heart of the message.

While these pain-staking formatting dilemmas may not be universal, we all have areas in life where we strive for perfection, where we ache to get it exactly so.

The truth is perfectionism cripples creativity, and in this case, my ability to connect.