I’ve been musing. I’ve been pondering. To the ends of the Earth and back. And we all know the Earth’s a circle, with no “end” — so, you know, I’m technically still musing and pondering…
Anyway. This is just a dump. Of what’s on my mind. No order, no editing, nothing. Just my mind as it is right now.
Slack, dammit. Cut yourself some slack.
Life is so busy, and so stressful enough as it is. The last thing we need is a whip-wielding ring master in our heads telling us what to do, how to be, and why we fucked up.
Give it. A goddamn. Break.
At the end of the day, I am the only person I have in my life. If I can’t be my own cheerleader, my own supportive voice of reason, who else do I have? And how can I expect anyone else to be that? It’s just unreasonable.
You’re rushing to the last page in a book that never ends.
Presence is a difficult thing to master. But that cliché saying of “the past doesn’t exist anymore, and the future hasn’t happened yet, so the present is all you have” holds some weight.
I try so hard to “get there” — wherever “there” is. I put so much pressure on myself to learn and grow and improve and iterate and and and… but to what end? This journey isn’t bound by a destination. The only destination is death; and even that is uncertain. It could be tomorrow, it could be when you turn 120.
So what’s the fuss about then? Why rush to an end you don’t even know?
My boyfriend made the analogy to a book, and it resonated so well. I often find myself trying to skim pages in order to get ahead of the action, and reach the end of the chapter, the section, the book faster… in order to find out what happens, or start another book.
But life doesn’t work like that. And rushing ahead puts us further behind.
Life is about presence. It’s about pace. If you aren’t taking in the moment, and feeling whatever needs to be felt right now, you’re rushing ahead. And, in a book that doesn’t end, you’re missing all the good parts.
For every step I trip on, there’s an entire staircase I didn’t take.
Life’s about the dance, not the individual steps.
I tend to worry a lot about “what I got wrong” or “how I can improve.” But, at the end of the day, life’s about more than that.
This idea came through a newsletter I read, and it resonated because I thought about every opportunity I missed because I was looking at the step I missed, and not the staircases I could take.
Doesn’t that sound like how we act?
What if, instead of dwelling on how we fucked up, we saw how we could grow from this? Instead of how we disappointed someone, we saw how this was an opportunity to learn more about them? Instead of how we had nothing to do, we saw how much time we had to explore, and experiment, and discover?
Stop to see the staircases. Look up. Don’t focus so much on the step.
I looked through my photos from years ago, and felt compelled to message people that mattered to me. It was just a moment to recognise what they meant to me.
Yes, the past is the past. And you shouldn’t hold the past up as an ideal in comparison to the present (things change, people change – it’s a painful experience waiting to happen). BUT: Looking back gives you perspective, insight, recognition, gratitude… And that is enough to make it worth it.
As long as you see memories as memories, and not ideas for the future, they can be energising as hell.