Comfortably Numb
Written January, 2015
A bitterly cold winter’s day here in Southern Ontario. Earlier today I was driving along the highway; as usual, my mind was deep in contemplation even as I monitored traffic and road conditions. There was a truck ahead of me, cars coming by; I was safely slotted in the right-hand lane.
Glancing to the side I saw the browns and dark colours of winter. In places the ground was speckled with snow, bright white contrasting the browns and faded yellows. I became aware of a switch in my awareness, in my perception. Usually whatever I see fades quickly into the background, out of conscious awareness almost as soon as it registers. Today I was aware the bullrushes standing tall at the side of the road. The dark green of the fir trees among the others with bare branches stood out, looking somehow unclothed. The white of the bark of the silver birch trees with their dark patches standing out from the rest. On occasion, the sun would peek through the clouds and transform the quiet, sleeping winter scene to glimmering, shining, promises of Spring.
The song on the radio station playing in the background ended and Pink Floyd’s ‘Comfortably Numb’ started to play. I turned up the volume, I do like Pink Floyd. Listening to the words I was struck by the relevance of where my mind had been traveling so I allowed my thoughts to drift with the music. These words stood out, so beautifully expressing what I was contemplating and striking something deep inside:
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
I have become comfortably numb.
Yes, that was it. We look, but we don’t truly see, comfortably numb. We listen without really hearing, comfortably numb. We touch without feeling, without sensing, comfortably numb.
Were we born that way? I don’t believe it for a minute; life conditioned us to be that way. For me, it started in early childhood. I learned that shutting down emotionally was the safest way to be. I wonder now just how often I caught glimpses out of the corner of my eye, glimpses of the magic that exists in the world. What happened to my imaginary friend who lived in the closet? The one I have no recollection of but my mother told me about it thinking it was amusing and rather silly. Maybe this is why the friend vanished along with my memory. There were fairy rings in the garden, pointed out to me but with an admonition that it was a fable, an Old Wives Tale, and that there were no such things as fairies. Poof, gone, no more fairies. Emotions were labeled as ridiculous, stupid or unnecessary. Comfortably numb, the safest way to be around adults, the emotions only allowed out at night in the darkness of my room.
Fast forward to today. How many of us are living our lives comfortably numb? We live life so fast, so jam-packed, do we even allow the time to stop and truly see, feel, hear, taste, smell or touch? I’m stunned to think about how many times I have looked at a flower, a sunset, a star-filled night, and said to myself ‘That’s nice’, and continued being busy. What about the beautifully prepared and presented meal in a restaurant, eaten rather than savoured? The dog that comes for attention and you give a quick pat rather than giving him your full attention and a touch filled with caring and recognition? Comfortably numb.
I’m on a mission to welcome change into my life and change starts with me. The switch in what I saw this morning while driving was a great start. I’m savouring the rich taste of my Americano as I sit in the coffee shop and write these words, the hum of conversation a backdrop to my words flowing onto the paper, the feel of the pen in my hand and the play of the light through the window.
I smile at people in the line in the grocery store, chat to the cashier, say ‘Good Morning’ instead of resenting delays and hating being in crowds. It makes a difference. Smiling at an elderly lady leaving the grocery store, she does a double take then tentatively smiles back at me. Maybe, just maybe, I brightened her day; she certainly brightened mine.
I can’t promise that I won’t slip back into being comfortably numb; I’ve lived most of my life there and it has been a safe place to hang out. I do, however, promise that I’m going to be more vigilant. I’m going to try and catch those moments when I am tempted to say ‘That’s nice’ and continue on my busy way instead of pausing and truly, with all my being, connect. My heart and my soul craves it: connection, feeling, recognition, wonder, touch, sensation. It is time to pay attention. How about you? I’d love it if you would join me.
Originally published at findingthemagicwithin.wordpress.com on January 22, 2015.
