Over the last few months I have noticed a few shifts in the way I approach the world. They are ways of seeing and being in the world that are playful and free flowing. These shifts were intentional, but barely required any effort. I call them little experiments in surrender.
The first one was throwing away my to-do list. The precursor to this was giving up journaling. There was a time where I would journal everyday and create elaborate lists and plans for my goals. This became self-indulgent. I realized it was a form of procrastination, just like scrolling. Eventually I stopped journaling for this reason.
What did I do instead? Instead of writing about the things I needed to do, I would do them. Instead of writing what I was grateful for, I would feel them in my heart. Instead of going in circles in my journal, I would go for a walk.
Like my journal, recently I threw out my to-do list. I noticed that having a list on my desk was making me anxious. It inhibited the flow of life. Less rich, less spontaneous. And of course, the to-do list never ends. So I always felt behind and deficient in some way.
Forfeiting the to-do list, I wake up with less certainty about the future. Not that the future is certain anyways, although we like to give ourselves that illusion by planning. I wake up with less fear and tension. Rather than worrying about what to do next, I “plunge in and join the dance,” as Alan Watts was fond of saying.
Now I use meditation and intuition to guide me. I sit and listen. I let the day unfold. What is really important right now? Honesty comes to the forefront. I won't see my son this weekend. Had I created a to-do list, I would fill up my week. But sensing the precious passage of time, I decided to spend a full day with him during the weekday. What is most important often does not make it on our to-do lists.
In offloading the burden of remembering, I forget more stuff. It’s true. My wife asks," “did you take out the plastic recycling?” No, I forgot. Sorry. But somehow the most important things still get done. The biggest obstacle in my life isn’t my memory – it is my fear. It is the fear of disconnecting from my mind and letting the heart take the reins for a bit. I’m conditioned to follow my mind, and I am still learning how to balance the two.
another experiment in surrender is that i don’t capitalize as much. in particular, when i am typing to friends, commenting, or even writing some posts like right now. it feels more natural. part of this feels like i am breaking some rules. its a bit rebellious. poetic perhaps. it also feels a lot easier and smoother. the flow of what i am saying comes out faster.
i never really liked the editing process anyway. i once edited 600 pages of a manuscript of a book i wrote about japan, which sold like 3 copies. whereas the books that took me 2 weeks to write with minimal editing have sold thousands and felt the most freeing. hmmm. there is something there.
a short poem i wrote as an ode to this little surrender
just because i don't capitalize letters, doesn't mean i am anti-capitalist
i am just freeing letters from the oppressive constraints of the uppercase
a flat hierarchy, where no letter is above another
caps lock is just another gatekeeper
hiding the truth that size doesn't matter
and that you don't need to stand tall to make an impact
so far no one has said anything. no one has called me stupid or told me i sound lazy or unprofessional, although they might be thinking that. i think that is okay with me. my mind gets to take a rest from the shift key and my heart gets to have a little fun
The last experiment is surrendering my planning. Woody Allen says that 99% of success in life is showing up. He didn’t say anything about planning.
Guiding mindfulness retreats, I used to print out my scripts and follow them. I still prepare scripts, but instead of following them, I just show up and see what happens. The scripts are there as a back up. Plan A is to notice the vibe and get in touch with myself, and lead from that intuition.
The other day I led an all-day mindfulness hike near Tokyo. We had a big group show up. I inevitably had ideas on what to do beforehand, but I made an intention to let things flow. The first part we took our shoes off and walked barefoot in silence. I knew the route, and found myself getting lost in thought. This felt too familiar. And boring.
So I stepped back as the leader and let others lead the way. Co-creating the adventure. We ended up on some paths that I had never been on, arriving at a large rock named “rice ball rock.” Intuitively I invited everyone to put their hands on the rock, so that we could release any negative energy and get grounded. Then we went around the circle sharing what we were feeling in that moment.
There were lots of moments like this during the hike. Not planned. They just came from seizing what was in front of me and improvising. Lao Tzu said “A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.”
The most thrilling part of this is that I don’t know what is going to come out next. When I am guiding a meditation and then give a talk, lately I start my talk by saying, “I don’t know what I am going to say.” Naming the emptiness of mind helps curb any anxiety I am feeling about it, and magically I am able to speak for quite a while. And it’s not half-bad, either.
So those are my little experiments for now. A lot of it is just about breaking out of routine, having fun and focusing on the journey. Nothing groundbreaking or revolutionary. I am not irresponsibly following the heart and letting go of the mind, or vice versa. But given that our tools are so hyper-focused controlling/planning/analyzing/improving our lives (mind-driven), these little experiments are enough for me to strike a better balance. In doing so I feel like I tap into something essential that feels very good and freeing. And that’s worth the price of admission.