Subtracting

Doing one thing, it’s basic math — My Sunday Best #39

I prefer addition over subtraction. It’s easy to add things mindlessly. With a simple click, I add things to my cart, commitments to my calendar, and monthly payments to my budget. But it takes more thought and effort to subtract something. I used to have a rule that when I bought something new, I got rid of something old. I still try to adhere to that rule. However, it’s not as easy as it sounds.

This week, I was reminded about the value of subtracting in my Yoga/Tai Chi/Qigong class. The premise is that when things begin to feel difficult, I can take something out of the equation—subtract. Even though ideally, I want to move my body as a whole, from the center, with all the parts in agreement and working together, I can get hung up on what my hands and feet are doing or not doing. I must not be alone in thinking this because my instructor touched on this topic. He suggested that I take my arms and hands out of the equation. He said, “Let them go along for the ride.” It makes perfect sense. When I move from my center, my arms and legs will naturally come along. All I have to do is focus on the basics.

I’ve learned about the importance of going back to the basics before. But that doesn’t mean I do it automatically. I still need to be reminded.

Growing up in Colorado, I was on the ski team. When it came time for our first practice on the slopes, the coach would only let us snowplow. I can imagine the frustration of keeping a group of young and rambunctious teenagers from speeding straight down the ski slope during that first practice. It must have been quite a challenge. However, the coach was strict, and I wasn’t about to challenge him. I compliantly skied down the hill at a snail’s pace, making wide, slow turns in a snowplow with my ski tips pointed together in a V-shape. As I crept down the mountain, I shifted my weight from one side to the other, carving big round lines. With a few shouts from my coach, I noticed what I was doing with my hands and where I was placing my weight—forward, back, outside, or inside. Most importantly, I returned to square one and learned the basics again.

Go back to where it’s easy. Just do one thing. This advice continues to serve me well, especially this time of year. Yesterday, while I was adding things to a to-do list that will eventually end up in the trash, Dennis walked over to the door and stared at me until I got up and put on my shoes. As we walked together, one foot in front of the other, stopping here and there, he pushed his nose into the leaves and frequently stopped to sniff the branches. In his mind, we had all the time in the world. So I pulled back the reins on the runaway horses in my mind and went back to the basics, walking and noticing—a beautiful mosaic created by fallen leaves, an old boat disappearing into the earth, a conversation of crows in the distance, and the misting rain dampening my coat.

Back to snowplowing. I see the value and wisdom in it now. Skiing in slow motion gave me time to notice what was happening in my body. The best part is that it still applies to every area of my life, whether practicing a new song, a yoga sequence or going to the grocery store—doing one thing with ease and noticing what’s happening in my body. Am I holding my breath? Am I tensing my shoulders? Am I feeling the support of the earth beneath my feet? What do I smell? What do I hear?

Although there are times when I still want to go fast, slowing down and taking a step back gives me so much more satisfaction than a quick check on my to-do list. When life feels like a lot, I can always subtract. It’s just basic math.