Human beings are such creatures of habit. Good or bad we all have habits and routines.
My habit and routine is to write everyday, long hand cursive writing and online via my blogs. But when my internet is down, I go into the jonesing mode pretty darned fast. This is what happened to me over the past two and a half days. I was headed for a kerfuffle.
It's so true, you don't know what you've got til it's gone.
We live in such a privileged world, where so much is taken for granted in North America. We're so busy thinking about ourselves, in our preoccupied, so called connected lives. This is what immediately came to my mind today, after not being able to access the internet and being faced with the question, "what do I do now?" So I went to my go to solution, writing, painting, out in the garden, go for a walk, visit a neighbour.
I have lots of time and solace to pay attention to my creativity and inner reflection. But regardless, the internet is my guilty pleasure and yes it's my addiction and sometimes my diversion, and I can easily get lots of nothing done, and not do the things I need to do. I know I'm not alone in this dependency and diversion.
The recent collective experience of disconnection that took place in Nova Scotia. with the cell phone service providers, due to a cut cable in the remote woods, was a good example of how the majority of us are so completely dependent on this technical connection, and I don't think it's healthy, safe or secure. And so we have to find ways and means to make contingency plans for ourselves.
Most of us were affected in one way or another and in a real big kerfuffle for four days. There was chaos and confusion in airports, financial institutions and disrupted online banking and purchases. I'm sure there were probably other unknown residual effects as well.
I don't have a cell phone nor do I want one. I say this not to be smug, but just to stress the reality of how dependent we all are on people, places, and things and how we delude ourselves in believing they'll always be there, until suddenly their not, and we find ourselves in some precarious or vulnerable situation.
I'm always so grateful to have my radio so I can listen to what's going on in the world. Same old stuff but undoubtedly is getting worse. Sadly I'm afraid the reality is, we've forgotten, or don't know how to have real human relationships with one another. I ask myself, are we losing our humanity? I refuse to believe this and in spite of world circumstances I remain hopeful.
If we could just have some down time away from our busyness and access to all our gadgets maybe our thoughts would turn inward, take an inventory, and prioritize what's really important in our lives.
In the small rural coastal community where I live people know what relationships mean and they remember how important relationship and connection with others is and this is reflected in many real and tangible ways such as community celebrations, gatherings and get-togethers, where people interact face to face, young and old alike. We feel a strong sense of belonging to one another.
Taking a walk up my country road to have an afternoon visit with my elder friends, to deliver a loaf of homemade bread, I listen to stories over a cup of tea and good conversation, always gives me a deep sense of contentment and belonging and I go home happier than I was before I came.
I don't have a really busy life in the sense of feeling overwhelmed with busyness and not having any time to myself. I've had enough of that in the past.
These days I focus on having a quality of life, that involves creativity, nature, critters and lots of Hygge, something the world needs much more, especially now, in these troubled times.
Hygge (“heu-gah”). The art of building sanctuary and community, of inviting closeness and paying attention to what makes us feel open hearted and alive. To create well-being, connection and warmth. A feeling of belonging to the moment and to each other. Celebrating the everyday.
Hygge happens when we commit to the pleasure of the present moment in its simplicity. It’s there in the small rituals and gestures we undertake to give everyday life value and meaning, that comfort us, make us feel at home, rooted and generous.
We all hygge – around a table for a shared meal, beside a fire on a wet night, making coffee together at work, in the bath with a single candle, wrapped in blankets at the end of a day on the beach, sheltering from the rain at a bus stop, lying spoons, baking in a warm kitchen, alone in bed with a hot water bottle and a good book.
In our overstretched, complex, modern lives, hygge is a resourceful, tangible way to find deeper connection to our families, our communities, our children, our homes and our earth. It’s an uncomplicated, practical method of weaving the stuff of spirit and heart into daily life without sentimentality then taking time to celebrate it on a human scale.
Hygge is a kind of enchantment – a way of stirring the senses, the heart and the imagination, of acknowledging the sacred in the secular – a way of giving something ordinary a special context, spirit and warmth, taking time to make it extraordinary.
Hygge is about appreciation. It’s about how we give and receive. Hygge is about being not having. ”