The first time I became truly aware that I’d misplaced my mind was about 6 years ago.
Running two businesses, my calendar was insane. As a yoga instructor I teach, travel, write and produce yoga videos. I’m also the CEO for a high tech consulting company that I founded 18 years ago. The impact of my lifestyle on my mental faculties started so gradually that I didn’t notice for a while. My To-Do was getting longer instead of shorter. Between the appointments and nonstop emails, I even started taking my laptop into the bathroom with me to get a head start! As I struggled to keep pace, my goals shifted. My priority became just keeping my head above water.
I began to feel very uncomfortable if I wasn’t connected through my phone or one of many computers. For down time, I watched TV…with my laptop open and my phone at my side. During travel time I listened to podcasts, surfed the internet or pulled out the file of articles I habitually stockpiled. I lived the adage the more you teach yoga, the less you practice yoga. My days were jammed trying to absorb as much information as possible while striving for success in as many places as I could cover, who had time to practice?
The net result was that I was hardly absorbing anything, and I wasn’t getting to the end of that ominous To-Do list. That’s when I realized, somewhere in the craziness, I’d misplaced my mind. As I tried to do more, I was unable to concentrate, I couldn’t focus, and I became very reactionary, which made it difficult to solve problems in real time. My imagination had almost completely disappeared, and it was taking me two and three times longer to write anything because my ideas flowed like sludge. What I was doing, wasn’t working.
Finally, it dawned on me that the insanity had to stop. So I went on a controlled digital diet. I shut down everything that plugged in or ran on a battery before and after a strictly enforced 10 hour work day. It was really hard. One of the first things I noticed was that there were other humans living in my house! Two of those people were my almost-adult children who were watching the scary example I was setting for how to live a life. Next, I started cooking again. Cooking necessitates slowing down and caring for yourself, something that had become extinct in my panic button lifestyle. The cell phone no longer had a prominent place on the table, which afforded the opportunity for human conversation. Finally, I rededicated myself to my own yoga and meditation practice, which gifted me with time during which no one could reach me, and no additional information was coming at me from the outside world.
Within the first two weeks. I experienced a shift. Information started coming to me from my inside world. I could remember what I’d been told 24 hours ago. Inspiration appeared in everything – driving, talking, visiting, noticing. New thoughts started bubbling to the surface. Not only was I able to write a few pieces, I started getting ideas for new projects and approaches to issues that had been locked and stuck. Apparently my mind hadn’t gone missing, but had retreated in fear of everything I was throwing at it. When I stopped bombarding my brain with the continuous, anxious laden flow of data, my mind hesitantly, but determinedly, came of the darkened corner.
I still have relapses when I start keeping Facebook running in the background, afraid I’ll miss a critical post. I begin checking email before I get out of bed, and I start texting while talking to others. It doesn’t take long before these behaviors result in creative blocks. When I notice, I remember to breathe in and create space in my days and my life. It’s in that space that I find my mind.
This article was originally published on MindBodyGreen.