Under the surface, there has been some drama around my studio. In the autumn, I packed things in boxes and covered the studio in plastic to protect it from dust, as we would get some works done on the house.
To be on the safe side, I decided to put the most valuable – and less dust compatible – equipment in other rooms. The rolling mill sat on our dining table for a while, and also the motor I put away somewhere else, in a plastic bag.
Works done. I removed the plastic, started unpacking and carried the heavy rolling mill back upstairs again. However, there was one thing I just could not find anymore: the motor. Where did I leave it?
“Oh well“, I thought, “If I don’t think too much about it, I’ll remember again, for sure”.
But weeks passed, and I really didn’t know where to look. Where was the motor?
I normally don’t use it that often. But now, all of a sudden, any project I came to think of would require me to drill a hole, and I got obsessed about “not having the motor” and “where is it?”.
It was as if the motor became the lifeline for my projects. Because, doesn’t it even look like an infusion bag, designed to give you something you can’t be without? As if the possibility to drill a hole was the only way to keep my projects alive, drop by drop, hole by hole.
Is this how our minds work? In the middle of abundance, we can only think of what we don’t have.
Well, I found ways to work around this, and I focused on other things. That was fine. The drama for me was the fact that I had been so mindless as to where I put it. I found that a bit scary.
Now, I’ve found the motor again and all is well, it will soon hang on its usual place.
Lesson learned? One: It’s good to have to miss things. Two: I can not expect my memory to hold on to every single detail when my mind is flooded on all fronts. Focus and presence and, if necessary, a tiny little note can help.
Did you ever have a similar experience?