if you don't flip the calendar
you'll stay stuck in time
this week’s Thought (singular)
i am once again thinking about all the scrunchies i’ve lost in my time so far on this good earth. a moment of silence
a very warm welcome to all new readers. i love new readers so much that whenever i get an email about a new reader, i manifest that they go on a walk. thank you for joining us. may you see the trees and the clouds and the grass and feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your skin.
a very warm welcome to old readers as well. may good sense continue to prevail.
Before We Begin
last week was our first thodi community edition! read what you and others have said about warmth here –
november’s The Good Side of the Internet came out a few hours ago. it’s absolutely jam-packed with incredible pieces this time. read it here -
hi
november nights were cold, but the winter sun was benevolent. things continued to be fast, and i continued the eternal fight to slow down.
i hold on to habit like a lifeline. i find slowness in the deliberate arrangement of my books, in the attention given to folding my clothes. i make the walk to the water cooler, armed with all my bottles, and try to appreciate the forced stillness of waiting for the container to fill, unable to do anything else. i smoothen my bedsheet and fold my blanket, i wait for my tea to steep, and i forgive myself for committing the grave sin of doing something with no obvious or assessable outcome. i sit in the ensuing calm with my head clearer and my heart lighter, and marvel at the aftermath of tending to one’s space.
i keep telling myself that wanting and hoping are good things, and that the disappointment that comes hand-in-hand with wanting is not a) assured, and b) permanent. i tell myself that the disappointment is simply proof that i have cared a lot. where is the shame in that? i am trying to not shun the evidence of my humanity, to not work so hard to stifle it and struggle with it - however it seeks to manifest itself.
i am shedding so much skin, and the process burns to a point where i feel like i’m being boiled alive. i feel like i don’t know who these new people underneath each layer are. i don’t know how to live with them, how to keep them happy, how to find new, shiny toys to entertain them since the old toys are simply not there or don’t work anymore. i see evidence of my old skin all around me – in the spaces i’ve cultivated, in the hobbies i pursue, in the art form i used to seek solace and find joy in – and my eyes burn at the sight. i feel like i’m in a mirror maze, and every turn shows me a different person in the reflection. my perception of myself is getting warped and distorted and crushed too often for me to find peace in any one of them. the things i thought were certainties, the things which have been with me all my life, no longer are. i miss the comfort of the people i used to be. i don’t know how to please the people i am becoming.
i have not been a very good friend to my body lately. i would like to listen more closely to what it needs. when it crashes, when everything catches up to this marvellous machine that has been running running running and outrunning the exhaustion of all the running, i would like to be kinder to it. when it needs sleep, i would like to give freely. when it needs something crunchy to eat, i would like to let it munch. i do not want to grudge its requirement for a break, for some water, for a nap, because of the time it takes to provide these things. i am becoming increasingly convinced that it is a deep and holy work to tend to its needs, work of the highest importance.
i fight the embarrassment of my effort not manifesting itself as results. i am trying to become aware of all the things that are not in my control, and making that a source of relief rather than bitterness. i am trying to stay motivated enough to keep trying, keep trying, keep working, keep putting in effort, even when it looks like nothing is coming out of it. there is internal work going on. there are results that aren’t tangible, that are as valuable as they are difficult to measure. i am swallowing hard truths about the extent of my sphere of control, and trying to not let them give me a stomach ache.
i am slowly beginning to believe that some things need to take their time. or, their time is simply not here yet. so i’m asking myself – what is in season? what is the time ripe for? which parts of me need to be coaxed out of hiding or summoned with more firmness, and which parts of me need to be tended to with a little more care and tenderness? it feels like sacred work, and i would like to do it with love and respect.
ps: happy december :D
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The Good Side of the Internet
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this week’s Song
find all shared songs here.
thank you for reading, and see you next week <3