Finding a quiet time in our busy lives can be difficult. Many find it helpful to schedule a specific time at a set location to meditate.
I tell myself I don't have time to meditate. I have work, chores, meetings, and family crises. But if I'm honest, my busyness is a defense mechanism. If I stay moving, I don't have to feel. If I keep the noise level up, I can drown out the sadness or fear that is lurking underneath. Sitting still feels dangerous because that's when the emotions catch up to me.
Step Eleven asks me to prioritize this connection over my to-do list, which feels counterintuitive when life is chaotic. But I've learned that five minutes of silence saves me hours of cleaning up the messes I make when I'm running on self-will. When I skip my quiet time, I am reactive, brittle, and easily baited. The 'cost' of finding time is actually an investment in my sanity. I don't find time; I have to steal it from the demands of the world and give it to my recovery.
Practice
I can identify one 'transition time' in my day—like sitting in the car before walking into work, or the five minutes before I start cooking dinner. I will use this existing gap as my appointment with my Higher Power today, protecting it as I would a doctor's appointment.
Today’s Reminder
Busyness is often a wall I build to keep God out.
