Yes, breadcrumbs. How do you know you’re on the right path? How do you get back? Plus what do you do if something eats these markers that you so carefully placed or someone left or drags them to one side?
One of my challenges as I seek to live in the present is that occasionally even I feel impatient. It’s all very well to have a history of relationships, books read and written, three months in Thailand, and a dramatic move to Portland by living in a place of doing without doing. But sometimes I just want a guarantee of results. I want them now! Or at least a promise that now will happen soon.
That’s where the breadcrumbs come in.
Oh, I could make a long to-do list. I could get myself tired with trivia. I could start a new exercise regime, attend more classes, and get a part-time job. Hustle! That’s the word. If I hustle, I’ll be able to see that I’m getting somewhere.
But I’m pretty sure that in the long run it won’t be somewhere that I want to go. I’ve done that before and while I do believe that everything we do is important and gets used, my experience certainly hasn’t followed any kind of a straight line to those books I want to read and write and places I want to live.
Plus, the dramatic fall and bout with cancer that prompted this “just being” life both said, “Ah, excuse me, B, but this body is saying hustling is not for you.” It was a pretty strong message. But sometimes, it’s so easy to forget.
This is why, if your version of doing only what is given to you to do right now, which is my shorthand phrase for living like this, has you feeling a bit anxious, I recommend looking for breadcrumbs. These are tiny hints that the Universe (whatever you call it) is paying attention to your true self, whoever that is.
For me breadcrumbs become most clearly visible in conversations. The guy at the bar who was in Portland for work, just needed to talk, and decided I should meet him for breakfast the next morning at the “best breakfast on the island” place I mentioned. I was willing to be stood up, but he was there, paid for my breakfast, and afterwards headed to the airport and home. He was not destined to be the new love my life. I was under no illusions that he would be. But I saw a breadcrumb indicating that, yes, a relationship is out there.
I’ve been missing music and, to some degree, having difficulty finding new communities. A 21 year old at another bar (a good place to sit when solo) told me where to go for jazz. I haven’t been there yet, but last Sunday I found myself at a fabulous jazz mass and in connection with two people I knew in Cincinnati, one of whom I had no clue lived in Portland.
And so it goes. Reminders of connections. Gifts for new adventures such as the visitor from Alabama who somehow enhanced my relationship with Portland’s food trucks — even though I safely ate a burger, with guacamole and jalapeños on it, and salad at yet another bar. (I do go other places, but bars have just been successful connection spots!)
There are also breadcrumbs that are not related to conversation, like the bag of dark chocolate with almonds completely in the wrong place at Costco. But it was where I would find it as the perfect treat so I would have something sweet in the house. It’s the dog I’m watching sleeping partly on my foot as I type this.
Another thing about breadcrumbs: usually we are impatient about the wrong things. Sometimes the direction is unexpected. From a place of presence, one can go anywhere and anything is possible.
It is finding myself writing this when there are other projects I, perhaps, “should,” by conventional standards, be working on. But apparently what I actually should be doing now is writing this. This writing is what this moment wants to encompass. Not really a doing. Just a happening or an “is.” “Not doing” isn’t sitting still, unless of course it is.
One needs the reminder of breadcrumbs to realize that some will be laid down and disappear – or otherwise not be visible. You just have to trust that they’re there. And if “nothing” is the answer when you ask “what should I be doing right now?” enjoy it. This shirt feels pretty good. The view is beautiful. Everything now is well.
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All photos by Spirit Moxie. From the top
Breadcrumbs
The Theodicy Jazz Collective and the organ at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral (Portland, Oregon, USA)
Often a dog moves from sitting on your foot onto your lap