We’ve been watching the series “Alone” one episode at a time while we eat dinner. We prepare our plates with delicious food and head to the couch to get positioned comfortably while we watch 10 people survive cold, and snow, eat slugs and seaweed and struggle to stay in the competition.

It’s not a new series and of course, it is intended for entertainment, but the competitors are actually alone with cameras and a microphone that they set up to document their time. They all have a basic idea of how to light a fire, search for food, make a shelter, and find water. If they run into trouble or decide to quit, they can push a button on a radio and a rescue team will come to pick them up. Some competitors keep it really simple, while others carve a guitar or weave fishing baskets or build a chair. The rest of it is clearly a mental game.

I find it fascinating especially as we munch on our dinner and point to the camera saying, “Oh, oh I’d keep working on the shelter, why are you stopping?”

But what I’m learning, is that they can’t too do much or too little of one activity. If they build the ultimate shelter and expend all their energy doing so, then if it rains the next day and they don’t collect any firewood, they’ll sit in their beautiful shelter and shiver all day. Or, if they concentrate on fishing and don’t secure any fresh water, they’ll enjoy a delicious salty fish dinner with no water, risking dehydration.

Sometimes, I feel that I don’t get enough large amounts of time to accomplish anything. I’m sure you can relate. For me, when pain surges a few times a day and I need to respond by lying down and resting, whatever I was working on needs to wait. If I decide to just push through and keep working on my studies or prepping food in the kitchen, the pain will ultimately get worse and I’ll be in rough shape later on. The best approach for me is to do small amounts of basic tasks each day that accomplish my goals in tiny steps.

The problem with this, however, is that it requires patience. I might start prepping food for supper and feel light-headed and need to lie down. Or, I might be working on getting documents together for our taxes and feel a migraine coming on just as I’m finding some momentum. It seems that I’m always greedy for more. More time, more productivity, more effectiveness, more understanding, more pages read, etc.

I’m intrigued by two things while watching this series: pace and patience. Thankfully, I can ponder this inside my home and not huddled under a rainy tarp.

Perhaps the reason fitness clubs are less busy in March is that the frantic pace at which some may start a new fitness plan is not sustainable because the desire for results is so strong. It’s hard to wait for things. I have a phone consult with a surgeon in a few days and I’ve been on the wait list for two years!! Two years too long!

However, as I watch these people outlast the other competitors on the show, I observe pace. They chop enough wood for the fire, but not too much so as to not use too many calories if they don’t have enough food to refuel. They explore their surroundings but keep an eye on the sun so they can get back to their shelter before dark. And they wait. They wait for food, water, rest, and sleep. The successful ones find things to focus on while they wait so they don’t get impatient or impulsive.

As I consider my goals, how can I add pace and patience?

Here are a few things I’ve been trying that maybe you’ll find helpful as well.

Once I drag my weary body out of bed to the couch, I listen to Lectio 365 first thing in the morning. I can close my eyes, sip my coffee and just listen. It’s short and so good.
Listening to Scripture - Because I’m in school these days and reading a lot, I choose to listen to Scripture instead and stay on the couch a little longer, still sipping coffee, eyes starting to open.
Journaling - I like to write out prayers, in a conversation style. I ask questions, reflect on what I’ve just listened to, describe my upcoming day, and ask for wisdom. I find that if I don’t write, my heart and head get too full. Somedays I write many pages, other days just a simple paragraph. No rules.
- If I skip these first three “tasks”, I notice a shallowness in my thoughts, scattered ideas, and unfocused, and I can become sloppy in my communication and boundaries.
- And then for the rest of the day, I take my to-do list, my hopes, and plans and do them in tiny increments. For instance, I’ll study for 30 minutes, and then clean just the bathroom sink. Study some more and answer a few emails. I use sticky notes to remind me where I left off in projects and am practicing being content with tiny steps. It is working for me.
  Pace and patience. Do you think these might help you as well?

Alone Skills