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Will | Phone Free's avatar

As a TV producer who spent a career perfecting the art of distraction, I have finally realised I am a victim of my own industry.

​Your point about rest being an anxious space is perfectly observed. "Rest" as an idea is drawn from the physical world, in which it's immediately pleasant. I am finding that's far from true for the mind.

​I am currently on Day 19 of a 60 day experiment: total mental quiet on my commute from Surbiton. It feels laughable on a packed South West Train, but I am beginning to believe that mental quiet is a muscle that can be built through repetition. If my naughty dog's brain can be rewired by daily training, perhaps mine can too.

MichelleD's avatar

The idea of retreat has taken on new meaning here in the U.S. I happen to live in Chicago which has seen it's own occupation by the dark side and it's given me a small idea of what it must feel like to live in wartime. The anxiety and fear are ever present and real along with such immense sadness for all that's lost. I chided myself for that comparison at first but I don't anymore. Having been told I'm the enemy by the leader of my own country leaves a mark. Honestly, I'm afraid to travel internationally for fear of agents searching my social media and being detained. I can't believe I'm typing that, but anyway, I feel stuck for now.

I've explained all that to say that retreat for me has changed dramatically. I'm just hoping to cope at this stage and have made a list for myself of things I can do every day to help keep me sane and grounded. I haven't even done well with those yet but it's a process. It's beginning to feel non-negotiable. For now, two hours of not seeing any news or social media is retreat. Watching a series or movie set in a country I love that has more rights and peace than my own is retreat. Reading books set in similar countries is retreat. Doing either of those things when the setting is here but in better times is too painful at the moment because it truly feels like that's gone forever, but I hope one day I can go there again, in my mind, anyway. I dream of the West of Ireland, where I've walked the beaches and searched for holy wells in the hills with my dear Irish friend. I hold the stones and shells I collected there and dream of those times. For now, that is what retreat means to me.

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