Treat and retreat

I am spending the weekend on Orcas Island at a yoga retreat, soaking up some quality alone time and a break from the seemingly endless winter weather we have been enduring. Being alone and doing lots of yoga and soaking in the hot springs has given me time for reflection, and I am realizing that I have developed an unfortunate new habit. In my haste to make the most out of my free time, I am packing it full of stimulation to the point of sensory overload. Part of it has to do with a need for escape, immersing myself in a book or movie to shut out my busy mind or my daily grind. But part of it is some sort of feeling of desperation to have everything despite less time for it. I know this is part of why I get pretty nuts if I go too long without yoga -- I need the time on the mat to counterbalance this bad habit. When I am doing yoga I am not doing anything else, and I am consciously working to clear my mind from the internal dialog. Not always succeeding, but at least mindful that it is valuable to do so.

Here on Orcas I have been reading and I did watch a movie (and now I'm sitting with my laptop up and running), but I also have been spending some time filling my senses with the natural world. It was nice on my first day here to walk down the country road listening to music on my iPod and soaking up the sun and the picturesque surroundings, but how wonderful it was yesterday to walk and realize how much music was happening all around me. The sound of the creek that I couldn't see but knew was there under the trees and grasses. The soft whinny of the pony with a bird on its back waiting to snack on some flies. The branches and leaves whispering hello to the wind. And the birds, so many birds so busy with their springtime jobs.
On my ferry ride here I was thinking about my week and how much time I spend talking. I enjoy conversation, don't get me wrong, but lately I spend too much time talking in the absence of being listened to. It's inevitable given my jobs -- trying to get communication impaired kids to communicate and trying to raise a four year-old -- but it's exhausting. I am sick of talking. I would tell myself to shut it if that were an option for me. But being here and slowing myself down I am reminded how valuable it is to truly listen, to wait one's turn to talk, and sometimes to say nothing at all. I hope I can bring some of that home with me.