In my never-ending quest to live in the moment and focus on the now, I am often amused at the follies that demonstrate I am nowhere near my desired state of “in the moment” Nirvana.
Although it’s easy to label these follies as failures, I prefer to see them as guiding lights on the path to paying attention.
I assure you, these are not senior moments. They are more the byproduct of an overactive, crowded mind that time travels several times throughout the day.
Not living in the moment, however, has led to some amusing scenarios.
Case in Point: My Naked Feet
I do more things before dawn than most people do in an entire day. So, when workout time rolls around at first light, I am dressed and ready to roll … swim or lift, depending on the day.
This morning, I donned my bicycle-riding attire and headed out to the garage where Ruby, my 5-year-old Specialized treasure, was waiting for me.
There I was in full rider regalia, helmet on head, gloves on hands, and shoes nearby. Lights on, water bottle filled.
All set. Except for one thing.
My feet were naked.
“Where are my socks?” I said to no one in particular. “I had them a minute ago.”
I went back inside and began retracing my steps from earlier this morning to locate the “lost” socks.
Mind you, I have more socks than a centipede has legs, but finding that particular pair of socks was crucial. It wasn’t about the socks; it was the principle of the thing. I was on a mission to find them no matter how long it took.
As a last resort, I turned to the only one in the house who might know where the socks were hiding.
“Alexa, have you seen my socks?”
“Hmmmm, I don’t have an answer for that,” she replied.
Knowing that asking the right question is the key to getting the answers I seek, I tried another approach.
“Alexa, where are my socks?” I asked.
“Try looking under the sofa,” came the reply.
Wasting time talking to ChatGPTs AI cousin was getting me nowhere.
After another five minutes and six laps around the house, I found the socks on top of the dining room table, where I had apparently left them while tending to some other important thing that, at the moment, I can’t recall.
Car Keys in the Refrigerator
The lost socks are just the latest example of my lack of attentiveness.
I visit my mom a couple of times a week. We usually have leftovers from lunch, and we divide them up so I can bring some home.
I’ve left so much food at my mom’s throughout the years, I have started putting my car keys in the refrigerator, on top of whatever bag or container I’m supposed to bring home.
Of course, by the time I’m ready to go home, I’ve forgotten where I put the keys and start frantically looking for them everywhere but in the refrigerator. That’s when my mom, who is 95, reminds me that my keys might be “getting cold.”
Funny girl, my mom.
In another “my body is here, but mind is somewhere else” moment, I have caught myself putting dirty laundry in the recycling bin a few times. This, again, usually involves some type of exercise.
One moment my sweaty shorts, jersey, socks, sportsbra, and panties were in my hand. Next, they were nestled among the discarded ketchup container, newspapers, and Zephyrhills water bottles.
In my defense, the recycling bin is about 6 feet from the laundry basket. That’s why experts advise that the 6-foot rule of bin/basket distancing be increased to at least 10 feet. They also advise that you wear a double mask when you find your dirty clothes a few days later.
Laps Around the House
Then there are the moments of wandering around aimlessly from room to room in my house, wondering where the heck I was headed and what was I supposed to do when I got there.
I had a goal. If only I could remember what it was.
Of course, the moment I sit down, I remember what I had set out to do. On the upside, this explains why the step count on my Apple watch consistently registers 10,000 steps, especially on days when I don’t leave the house.
Turn it Off; Turn it Back On
All of these moments of silliness are the offspring of a sharp but overactive mind that doesn’t need to write things down to remember them. But the mind is the body’s hard drive, and even the biggest hard drives must be purged to make room for new information.
But information overload isn’t the entire problem.
“This application is slowing down your Mac. Closing it will improve its efficiency.MacBook Air
As every experienced IT tech will tell you, the secret to making your computer run more efficiently is to turn it off and turn it back on. Our bodies are the computers that house our mental hard drives. They, too, need to shut down occasionally to function properly.
Furthermore, multitasking isn’t all it’s cut out to be. Having too many mental tabs open at once scatters our focus.
If you can stop laughing at me long enough to recognize yourself in at least a couple of the scenarios above, it’s time you stop what you’re doing and focus.
Clear your cache, close some tabs, and when all else fails, take a break.
In other words … live in the moment.
2 thoughts on “Have You Seen My Socks?”
The main purpose of my iPad is to find my iPhone. Over and over again. Day after day.
And the main purpose of my iPhone is to call Kelly’s iPhone when she loses it.