Inertia

Last night I was reading an article that made some reference to "inertia." Whenever I hear the word I think of my old boss. Once we were discussing an issue where the marketing efforts in a particular territory had gotten stuck in a rut (no, this post is not about work again, it's about inertia; pay attention). I said that "inertia had set in." He said, "no, you mean the opposite of inertia, don't you? There is no motion. Inertia means it would still be moving."

Ah...the old problem of words and their meanings and their etymology. In this case, we were, of course, both right. I had two physics teachers between middle and high school. Both taught me this: "An object in motion will remain in motion. An object at rest will remain at rest." (Or, that great modern resource dictionary.com defines inertia this way: "the property of matter by which it retains its state of rest or its velocity along a straight line so long as it is not acted upon by an external force.") So inertia is a matter of what state you were in when we started the conversation.

How's it going so far?

I like to ask myself that question, especially when I feel I'm either at a dead stop or hurtling uncontrollably through space, usually feeling, in both cases, directionless.

When you're in what Dr. Seuss called "the waiting place," it can feel like "a most useless place." But it doesn't have to be. Maybe you need to rest right now, just slow down long enough to breathe. Maybe you can only move in tiny little quiet movements because you are dealing with something delicate and fragile (an illness -yours or a loved one's? a relationship worth saving that needs TLC? a grieving friend?) Maybe you need to soak up beautiful things that make you happy to fill up the emotional and spiritual well before you can start on your creative journey? These things take time and care. They also benefit from gracious acceptance of the waiting place.

Consider:

A co-worker told me this story of when his toddler had a broken leg and a cast that went up to his torso, bless him. He lay there immobile, arms and legs splayed, singing that little starfish song from Sesame Street: "I'm stuck! I'm stuck! I'm really, really stuck." Don't think you know that one? Try saying it out loud. I'll bet you can guess at the melody. Kinda gives you a whole new vantage point on "the waiting place," no?

The alternative to "the waiting place" is none-too-comforting though. When you're travelling Mach 10, the "waiting place" seems like Vacationland! Dr. Seuss describes it as travel "down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace [grinding] on for miles across weirdish wild space." Raise your hand if you've been there. Maybe the "weirdish wild space" is a new career or new relationship or new city. You reach out to catch pieces of information or the hand of a new friend as they zip by. It's fun, but you're homesick and tired. Or maybe the "weirdish wild space" is the realization that your longheld beliefs about your current career or relationship or city require examination. Then you feel overwhelmed, like you're sliding down a muddy slope as everything else is sliding by you as if in the "right" direction. I think a little bit of letting go helps. You stop fighting the weirdness of it, and as you travel at the speed of light, your intuition's quiet voice can be heard amidst the din.

Consider:

My friend, Bobby, died a week before his youngest child, George, turned 4. About a month later, the family went to their local lake on vacation. George was understandly staying close to his mom, and was uncertain about jumping off the pier. His floaties were a poor replacement for the comfort and protection he knew in the past. But as he watched his older siblings swim, he processed this teeny tiny part of his new reality: "Mommy, there are no sharks in the lake. They live in the ocean." And he leapt. May we all be so brave.

So, who am I kidding? Dr. Seuss already explained all this, better than I ever could. So here he is: Oh, The Places You Go

Have compassion for your inertia, whichever state you are in. Be well.