I have a confession. I had a bit of a practice round for this 2002 experiment during my 40 before 40 project. I spent three days in a shimmering, emerald forest in Tulsa, Oklahoma on a silent retreat. No talking (well, not much), no podcasts, no TV, no books. I did use Google Maps to navigate to a beach and I clung to a meditation app during the weekend like my life depended on it, but mostly it was just me, myself, and ole mother nature.
It was one of the hardest things that I did over the year and a half of the project. I was petrified. In part, because I knew, I knew, that as soon as I stopped binging Frasier episodes or reading endless posts on Best of Redditor Updates, my emotions would come find me.
And they did. Oh, they did. Guilt, shame, anger, despair, paralyzing fear. They emerged from the forest to haunt my peripheral until I was brave enough to face them. Over the course of the three days, I realized that if I turned to confront them, it was unpleasant for a moment, but then they subsided, having been robbed of their power for the time being.
I suspected this project would be very similar.
Sure enough, my emotions came for me yesterday morning. I was up around 6:45 a.m. I drank my coffee in the quiet house and perused a “Fitness After 40” exercise book that I’d picked up from the library. When The Baby made his happy noises on the monitor, I gave him morning meds, got him dressed. Alex came down at 8:30 and wanted to talk about something I’d said the night before that had hurt his feelings.
As far as serious, marital discussions go, it was a small thing, one that should have taken minutes to solve.
“Hey, you said this thing and it made me feel xyz.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
Quick and easy, except the calvary of squelched-down feelings had arrived. That very small thing turned into bigger things and my penitent tears turned into a full on sob. As my breathing finally eased and the tears slowed, I put my head on the dining table and whispered, “This is so, so fun already.”
The 2002 Experiment was off to a great start.
The day righted itself though and the rest of the morning and afternoon felt rather, luxurious, if I do say so myself.
First thing in the morning, I had checked texts and then set my phone face down on the corner of the kitchen counter. Near the spices. “That’s where you’re going to live for the next month,” I told the old Samsung. Over the course of the day, I checked my phone six times and responded to a few texts. I called my mom. I did accidentally check my email twice on my phone. It was pure force of habit. I was thinking, “Oh, an email from Ed!” before my brain caught up with my fingers.
I listened to music and worked on a puzzle. I started Yesteryear and had some…thoughts. I took a nap. We walked to the grocery store. I’d purchased a Monday crossword book and I did one. It was nice. Slow, but nice.
Is this first day indicative of how I think the project will go? Slow, but nice?
Hell, no. I know this is the honeymoon stage. The withdrawals haven’t set in yet. There was no emotional drama that I needed to hide from yesterday. Life offered to ease me into this experiment, but I know that won’t hold forever.
Those are all worries for future Beth though. Today, I’ll bask in the quiet calm before the storms on the horizon.
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