The past weekend, overwrought with activities and “busyness,” the discontent crawled on my skin late Sunday evening. Distracted and irritated, the weight of saying yes to certain activities came at the cost of sacrificing solitude. Even though quiet is my refuge of choice, I realized that my execution of creating this space falls below my expectations.
One epiphany materialized: Intention is not enough.
As much as I relish quiet, my decisions need to collaborate with this goal. A litany of questions ensued in my mind, revolving on why I made conscious choices to sabotage the silence that is essential, like the inhale and exhale of my breath. Every choice creates a consequence.
I noticed the tone with my daughter, the edges of my voice sounding like nails on the chalkboard. When I conversed with a friend, complaints started hurling forward about nothing in particular – the act of expressing my dissatisfaction seemed so trivial in retrospect. My body felt the revolt too. Tight shoulders, anxiety itching in my middle, my head started to pound. By Sunday evening, with irritation mounting, I sat in my office for a few minutes, letting the quiet form a bubble around me, silencing my phone, computer and other distractions. I tried to replenish what I missed over the last few days.
For the next few hours, I honored what meant the most to me. I wrote for an hour, read passages of Mary Oliver poetry, played a silly game with my daughter, conversed with my husband and made dinner. The lull of the routine lessened the tension, my outlook brightening because my time became mine again.
On Monday, the reset button engaged, I intersected with a white flower on my morning run. The purity and clarity of its petals, the green lines outlining the invisible, resonated on a gut level. The words, “intention is not enough” appeared again like a neon sign flashing in my head. My course is my own, but I need to claim what I know I need.
The problem becomes trying to find that place of quiet amidst all the noise. My world includes responsibilities, spanning from my obligations as a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend and sometimes those relationships come before my need for solitude. I am not certain if I’ve come to any conclusions as to how to build that time in the context of what I need to do versus what I want to do. That, I’ve accepted, is a process.
This weekend did teach me that intention, if there is no execution, stays as a word. There is no follow-through, no visible progress, intention without execution becomes another would, could, should and these words are the ones that dissolve into a life of regret. Yesterday, the mother of all reminders intersected in my path. As I pulled out of my driveway to the main road, a white hearse pulled alongside of my car, our vehicles instantly becoming friends. I felt goosebumps forming on my skin and some may dismiss this incidence as a coincidence, but I tend to believe the whispers of the world. It materialized into acknowledging that intentions can disappear into the ether, but the real meaning lies in taking hold of time and working toward carving out how you want to spend it.
* This entry is a result of a year-long excavation of my word of the year, quiet.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Your words always reach me just so, just there, right where they are needed most. Like being out running through my day, right into their purity and clarity.
Thank you, Jena. Your classes and magical guidance inspire me to follow through with my intentions. xo
You make a valid point in stating intention isn’t enough without execution. I have many times found myself backing away from intention, but when I focus it makes all the difference in my world.
That focus is the key, Susan. When I have it, tasks start to take a positive bounce in the right direction. When these goals remain unfulfilled, that is when my irritation and self-doubt mount.
“Intention without Execution.” Yes, I’ve found myself here often in the past few months. It’s absolutely infuriating (to me) to have every intention of creating space for something, and then derailing for some reason or another.
I’ve started participating in a 100 Days project (similar to a NaBlo challenge but for art) and I love that I have to carve out time to create each day, and I’m accountable for it on Instagram. Making it an every day commitment instead of “scheduling” time inconsistently helps too.
Also this line: “I honored what meant the most to me.” Loved that. What a lovely way to put it.
Dakota,
I love that you began the 100 Days project and are posting your progress on Instagram. Does accountability help you fulfill your intentions? Deadlines help me stay on the right track, but I wish, sometimes, that it didn’t have to be that way. I’d like to enjoy the process, without focusing on the end result. What is your handle on Instagram? Would love to follow you. xo
Intention is nothing without execution. Indeed, what use is the knowing of what we need if we do not act upon it? Today, I have stopped. My father is on life support after a terrible accident at the beginning of the week. I have been supporting my mother and attending his bedside since then, and truly, last night I felt like I had run a marathon. Today, I am staying at home and replenishing my stores, cleaning my home and resting. There are other people who can step in, so today I give myself what I need so that I can continue to be of service.
Sara,
I am so sorry to hear about your father.
Unfortunately, I’ve experienced a similar situation with my father. When he spent his remaining weeks in hospice, I became nurse, caregiver, chauffeur and confidant. Self care is important, especially during this time. Sending you light and love.
It’s funny, my word of the year is intent. Making choices and acting with intent seemed like it would bring me more peace. But it seems responsibility seems to hush my word all too often. I’ve started saying no to birthday parties, but there are the sports, homework, and school responsibilities that come with being a mom of three kids. And they were certainly my intent as well. So I’m with you in this struggle. I’m glad you found some quiet and I hope that you continue to.
Amy,
It is hard to focus on our intentions when we are also instrumental in fulfilling the needs of others. I don’t have any compelling answers, but know that you aren’t alone. xo
I love that year-long excavation. It’s such a process. And quiet has always seemed to me to be one of the best words.
I really need my reset button to engage.
Quiet is definitely fulfilling me in ways I didn’t expect. I love that I am actively pursuing it and making the process tangible by writing about it in this space.
This resonates with me greatly. I am constantly craving quiet and peace of mind; I focus the most when I can enjoy music and researching various topics in peace. I find some weeks I require this more and try to modify my actions towards those needs. I find I am more introverted and independent than most of my friends and it’s hard to balance all that out. I find they require the need to socialize constantly with one another and I am more withdrawn but just by nature – I am at my best in that environment and produce the best thoughts and work. Just have to find a balance and sometimes that requires tweaking. Have a great one Rudri! Take Care -Iva
Iva,
I gravitate toward quiet and introversion. Although I love hanging out with my friends, small talk at social gatherings tends to tilt my balance in a negative direction. You should definitely check out Susan Cain’s work, Quiet, where she talks about many of the things that you described.
Life is complicated and we can’t always execute our intention. Lovely post, Rudri.