Two days ago I deleted the ‘6 month free with purchase’ membership to Apple Music. The trial membership came with a new pair of ear pods and the option to subscribe at the end. At first I was enthused. I listen to classical music every morning on my early walks. It relaxes me and eases me into the day. I envisioned being able to set up my Apple account with favourites as well as selections to sample or add to my listening rotation. Problem. I realised using the program meant more than paying for it with money, it meant spending time to learn how. Learning how to navigate through yet another set of screens and buttons suddenly seemed like it just wasn’t worth it. I’m saturated with needing to keep up with technology and life changes. We are very fortunate here in Australia that we have a fantastic classical music radio channel. Occasionally they play a few hours of modern music that I don’t understand and that sounds more like me bashing on the piano keys before I learned to play the piano as a child. But over all, it is great. When I need to I can play from my own library for a few hours.

But that is only part of the reason I deleted the membership. It suddenly struck me, this and a couple of other things I was exploring, were distractions. I was restless and unfulfilled. I needed to curate carefully what I was allowing to distract me from the things I really want to be doing. An instagram post by James Clear (Atomic Habits) reflected clearly what was happening and brought me to my senses:
“Be ruthless about what you ignore. Time, energy, and resources are so precious. You have to be ferocious about cutting your priorities—more than you realize and certainly more than is comfortable.
You can only deeply commit to a few things. One or two? Maybe three?
Every pretty good, sorta nice, kinda fun thing you abandon is like shedding a weighted vest that lets you move at top speed. You were so busy focusing on how much you could carry, you never realized you could run this fast.”
And a week or so later, this, from the same author:
“I have learned that whenever I think “I don’t have enough time to do that” what I usually mean is “I don’t have enough energy” or “I am not actually interested in doing this.”
What I need to do a better job of is not managing my time, but rather caring for myself and identifying my true interests. When I am well rested and working on something I am genuinely excited about, finding time is rarely a problem.”
I wondered if this was some kind of Jedi mind trick he was pulling and he had seen inside my head! How many times the last few years have I said ‘I don’t have time’? What I meant was, I don’t have the energy. Our energy is invisible but it powers us, and it is finite. When we don’t rest and respect our limits the quality of what we do is diminished. I knew that. I just forgot.
The bright, shiny things life offers us hundreds of times a day so easily grab our attention. They throw us off course more often than they show us the way. I have learned I need to more carefully question where I am putting my energy and attention, while remaining open to examining new ideas and experiences. Balance. It’s tricky. It’s a bit like the physical decluttering I’ve been doing of our belongings. It takes skill and practice to learn how much is enough. This is the decluttering of my mind, so that what is important has space to grow.
Yesterday I got into the studio for the second time this week. The previous few months I have ‘not had time’ . Suddenly I have the energy again.




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