I feel the pressure of hormones gathering like commuters on the London underground at rush hour. But the trains are delayed. There is an obstruction on the tracks. The crowd is edgy and irritated. My hormones. No longer flowing happily to their destinations. But backed up and troublesome. My family takes the brunt of these tetchy hormones looking to pick a fight. It’s time for some damage control.
An intervention is needed. It’s time to disconnect from remote communication and reconnect to those three dimensional bodies in my immediate environment. I have been a puppet dancing on the strings pulled by emails and messages.
Pulled out of the present moment while I wait in anticipation for a positive response to a marketing message, emotionally dumped when a negative response arrives. I’ve lost my grounding; my jaw is clenched, my breath forgotten. Time to go camping. Its time to go somewhere to step beyond the reach of those blinking screens. That’s easy enough where I live. Its as simple as walking out of the front door. But in this case, a stroll up the mountain is not enough. A full reboot is required. 48 hours is needed. All it takes is a drive up a bumpy road.
The kids bouncing in the back of the bakkie with the pots and braai grid. Half an hour later we arrive in a time before email apnea, before instant communication. Here we are free from messages transmitted from remote locations, instead I can listen to the messages immediately surrounding me.
I feel my breath and my feet again. It is such profound relief to reel my mind back in to my body, away from the maybes and what ifs. I hear my feet crunching through the veld, each step an ear massage.
I wake up to the smell of karoo bush and clean air. I marvel at the shape of the clouds against the vast blue sky. I follow the flight of the birds with awe. My attention span is long enough to follow the magnificent kestral as she flies low along the mountain side seeking her prey. I attend to the present moment and swallow my medicine with gratitude.