We’ve all experienced dejavu, that weird sensation that you’ve “been here before” or that a face looks familiar in a crowd. Then there’s that out of body experience, when you suddenly feel like you’re living somebody else’s life. Your memories seem disjointed and you can’t figure out exactly where you are/were or when?
I’ll be out shopping and want to go to a favorite shop; a consignment store that has exactly what I want. When I try to remember its location, I realize the picture in my mind is located in a different city.
I’ve moved around a lot and lived in and traveled to many places. I’ve also had two divorces and three marriages. My children often seem far away and distant. In reality, they are because of miles and location. But the chasm widened when divorce shattered family ties.
My past experiences are all mixed up in a hodgepodge of disjointed memories. Hunger or lack of sleep can trigger these sensations and exaggerate the feelings of being disconnected and disoriented.
I call it “time warp,” when suddenly you feel like you’re living in another dimension, in someone else’s body, separate and apart. Thank goodness these ambiguous moments are short-lived. A good night’s sleep and adequate nutrition usually takes the edge off.
Living in the here and now keeps this fleeting freakiness from staying. Reality has a way of grounding us. Enjoying the present moment and making the most of each situation is a way to plant our feet on solid ground.
Discovering how to do this may happen quite by accident or by following your interests and passions. I found my perfect diversion in painting. A friend invited me to take an oil painting class with her long before I knew I could paint. It was like coming home. This wise friend knew that I needed to get away from the agony of an unhappy marriage, the circus that sometimes occurs while raising a family, and the chaos of hiding emotional pain.
As I explored and experimented on an empty canvas, I lost myself in the total absorption that it required. I forgot my troubles. I began to heal, and in the process equipped myself with a tool for getting away from my anguish, if only for a few hours.