Wednesday, May 29, 2019

The Magic Mundane

Let's be frank.
I'm back in a lifestyle that I was avidly avoiding; holding down an office job Monday through Friday, clocking in at 830 to stare at a screen that buzzes with Blah. Fueled by caffeine (mandatory) and an early morning dog walk through the haze, I feel capable of tackling the tediousness for maybe three good hours before I hit a formidable wall of desperation. Suddenly I start to feel claustrophobic despite the spacious office and fair privacy I'm granted. Every day I find myself offering to do anything: excessively dumping the trash and recycle, making as many cups of tea as I can, followed soon after by necessary pee breaks, just to walk. and move. and discard the feelings that stack of....something. Not quite boredom, not quite despair, just...something.


Maybe I'm scared that this slow pace will allow (or even invite) the feelings I've been trying to compartmentalize over the past months: grief, anger, and honestly-fear. Life is a bit like a vintage Grandfather clock right now, ticking loudly yet slowly from one moment to the next. Much ado about nothing, aye?

It seems that to go deep is not always to go wide, or high, or to cruise to Indonesia to find yourself....but rather to go low, into the cavity of life, and to take the necessary time to authentically rediscover a pure wonder towards existence. False urgency can be so misleading and destructive. I have no choice but to honor my current condition as it stands. As it is. Anyways, my life is far from BAD! It's merely simple, quiet, and compact.

As a writer, i.e. an unabashed thesaurus nerd, I love constantly expanding my vocabulary. I look up synonyms for words all the time, for the unadulterated FUN of it. Through editing, I've also learned that each of us have individualized, fallback language we rely on and tend to overuse. Especially when it comes to qualifiers and intensifiers-words like really, very, always, never, certainly. These are our written fingerprints.

So, let's look at the word simple, otherwise known as: effortless, manageable, uncomplicated.

Through this lens of language, a 'simple' life seems quite alright. Especially when paired with a genuine curiosity for the unknown of the future. It reminds me of an Abraham Hicks manifestation tool (and a hell of a mantra) I once read: "I am satisfied where I am, and eager for more."

Can we just agree to stop glorifying being BUSY? As if once we stop moving we'll all keel over and die. Or that without a constantly updated highlight reel to show how important and essential we are, our lives are trivial. Are you ok with conceding to a 'manageable' life? Or at least, an easy-going phase in your story-because you already known that absolutely nothing is permanent.

We are all indisputable, ancient star stuff; no matter our apps or apparatus, or how trendy we consider ourselves to be. There is an ancient wisdom and significance embedded in every one of us. We don't have to be in movement to be of purpose or worth. Our value is intrinsic and irrefutable, even on the most regular of days.

Someone I respect messaged me last night with this question: "How do you work through blocks when you're writing? Been feeling stuck in my process lately."

My reaction was a literal guffaw. Then a long pause. Then a very honest answer about my relationship with creativity and creative blocks. The truth is, it's been way too long since I put pen to paper (which is in fact, the precursor to nearly every blog or short story before it's typed out). Maybe being asked the question awoke something in me. I've had a craving to write all day, despite feeling like my current days are more mundane than magical.

Sometimes all you need is a good kick in the ass, posed in the frame of a question that begs answering.

Photos from my solo adventure to Hurricane Ridge on Sunday. What was I thinking, going to the Olympic National Park on Memorial Day Weekend? Honestly, I wasn't thinking. I just drove and blasted podcasts and drank Hoodsport Coffee until suddenly I was in a LONG line to enter the park. No matter, I finally got to do this trail which has always been on my list for the Olympics. Though it's short, it's a nice little burner with insane 360 degree views up top. Sitting at the summit, I typed this note into my phone:

A couple hours of striding up hill to stand around huddling hordes of humans almost laid flat by wind to peer out in praise at the most high: mountains. 

Ah, the magic mundane.