The Rest Makes the Rhythm

Image courtesy of arts.brighton.ac.uk

I came upon a recent blog by Steven Soderberg that spoke to the breakneck speed of living these days.  Among several good analogies, his most resonant to me was where he likens life during earlier chapters of his journey to a drumbeat, with its own rhythms, fast or slow -- depending on the day and season.  At least that's how it used to be, he claims.  In contrast, now the pace of life seems to race by so quickly (with little to no relief) that we often struggle to any longer distinguish the beat -- for lack of a pause.  Rather, given the rapid beating of life's drum, he asserts, all we can generally discern now is some sort of hum.  Hmmmmm....

Reflecting on this led Soderberg to a book by Douglas Rushkoff called Present Shock, which named the ailment from which Steven (and our nation?) is suffering.  Rushkoff described the conditions for present shock as follows:  "When there's no linear time, how is a person supposed to figure out what's going?  There's no story, no narrative to explain why things are the way things are.  Previously, distinct causes and effects collapsed into one another.  There's no time between doing something and seeing the result.  Instead the results begin accumulating and influencing us before we've even completed an action.  And there's so much information coming in at once from so many different sources that there's simply no way to trace the plot over time."

Now, I know that having the world available at my fingertips 24/7/365 is a wonderful gift.  But like any gift, too much of it can be a bad thing.  For example, as a musician, I know that the rest or pause in a measure is often as important to the rhythm (and the music) as are the notes.  In fact, if we force more notes into the measures we play (to the point where no rests occur), rather than creating better music, at some point we cross a threshold where our devoted efforts result instead into some sort of cacophony. 

And we are designed to be reflective creatures.  So all this stimulus and connectivity is a wonderful gift. But at regular intervals, we need to intentionally disconnect, provide some pause to the world around us -- and take some time to connect the parts of our selves that can grow through all this interaction with the world around us.  In other words, we need to slow down at intervals to allow the rest and rhythm of life to provide its sweet music to our souls.  

Overall, I don't argue for or against the "on-demand/always on" world in which we live.  Rather, I advocate for all us creatures interacting with it to take intentional effort to build in margins for pause, reflection and integration.  Then we are better positioned to not miss a beat!