The Freedom of Discomfort
In the last week I’ve felt myself slow way down. Perhaps it’s the warmer weather. That feeling of my body feeling safe to expand, rather than constrict and become small to conserve heat and energy. That feeling of my heart beginning to feel safe in a way that only anonymity provides. To live free of expectation, when no one knows you. When it doesn’t matter if you don’t speak, because no one expects you to. You don’t expect you to. The silence I was craving arriving again, outwardly, inwardly.
A part of me instantly began to panic. The voice that said if you let the momentum slow down it’s going to be that much harder to pick back up. You have emails to write, check-ins to do. Content to think about. Create. Create. Do. Do. And yet, this voice that’s always propelled me has gotten so much softer and smaller over the past year. I’ve allowed myself, more and more, to see the fallacy of urgency. And so what if it’s a week later than expected? So what if I’m less efficient than I “ought” to be?
Perhaps it’s the realization that there isn’t really any ONE thing that is life-changing. Since change is constant and so is life, it seems to me like my will has very little to do with any of it. The size of my ego has never matched the size of me, little me, just another drop in the vast ocean of the universe.
Maybe at one time this would have scared me. Frustrated me. To try so hard only to find very little of what we do makes a huge difference in the grand scheme of things. But now, it offers me another deep breath, another sigh of relief. How freeing it is to be inconsequential. To not ponder the purpose of today, but simply the beauty and pleasure of existence.
The other night I saw fireflies for the first time!!! This morning on my walk with Loona I observed at least 6 different varieties of butterflies, 50 varieties of plants and foliage, 11 varieties of bird calls, and countless shapes of clouds. I couldn't even tell you how many times the wind changed direction. I couldn't trace it with my finger if I wanted to. Everything moves and changes at a pace of its own, its own timing, its own reason. My existence is no different.
I used to be a lot harder on myself for everything. I thought it kept me motivated. Driven. But what I thought was motivation was actually a deep fear of failure. Of being found wanting.
I now hold myself with more softness. I give myself more time. I see myself as Thich Nhat Hanh says, both a drop in the ocean and the ocean itself.
I love being in this new place where I know nothing. Not that that’s anything new, lol. It’s just that when I’ve lived in the same place and gotten used to the same things over and over, it’s hard to remember every day just how big and wondrous the world is. I love having to figure out where everything is. How to get around. How to get my tongue and mouth to form shapes and sounds that I never have before. And then have someone comprehend what the fuck I’m trying to convey. Haha it’s a trip.
Where are you being too hard on yourself? Would you dare to let yourself take up just a little more space? To meander, to get lost, to be uncomfortable, to blunder?
As always, with so much love,
Vera
