It's the little things....

Hello you fine feathered friend.

Whew... did anyone else feel that?!

What an energy-sapping week. Maybe it is the shift into spring (finally!) and the weird and wonky weather vibes that accompany this last push towards consistent double-digit temperatures. Maybe it is the intense alignment of the planets this week.  Maybe it is a partial carb-coma from all of the bread we have been baking.

Whatever the cause, virtually everyone I have spoken with this week has been feeling a heavy, plodding energy dip. Ditto, my friends. I too have been living in a relatively liminal space the past few days: going with my gut in what I feel like I should be doing in a given moment, noticing that comes up when I give in or resist those impulses, and generally just doing my best to keep the lights on with the limited energy available. 

Of course a small part of me is anxious about that ever-present COVID productivity pressure, but as the quarantine unfolds and the days trundle forward, I am slowly surrendering to the relative stillness around us and abandoning the subconscious urge to try to replicate the life we had.  Because life is indeed very different now. And is getting different-er.  In a lot of ways this is a good thing: there is so much about society and culture that we need to examine and transform.  But this evolving "different-ness" doesn't mean that we can't enjoy some of the pleasures from the "before-times" -- like (virtual) dinner parties or (virtually) watching movies with friends or (virtual) bookclub or (virtual) coffee chats.  #virtual

But in the quiet "differentness" of day-to-day quarantine life-- and especially when energy is low and I give myself space to be present-- I am starting to appreciate some of the subtle nuances and micro-contrasts that distinguish moments in the day, that signal the change happening and, for me, ultimately help contribute to a feeling of momentum.             

Some of the micro-contrasts I am noticing are experienced externally, such as tending to my (very small) balcony garden and watching my little seedlings grow just a little bit every day. And some of them revolve around experimenting with how I experience the external world through my body: for example seeking out opportunities to vary the temperature at which I am living (perhaps inspired a bit by Spa Nordik's thermotherapy: keeping my bedroom window open when I sleep, taking short hot or cool showers, using a fan or not when working out, etc...), just to throw a little sensory variety into the day. I have also been playing with feeling hungry and sated, via intermittent fasting. Right now I am on the 16/8 method (stopping around 6 or 7pm, and then eating again around noon the next day), but have also played with the 24 hour fasts as well.  It gives some structure to the days, and allows me to better hear what my body wants and needs.   

These little micro-contrast experiments also extend to noticing what I am feeling and playing around with how I experience my inner life. The reality is that as much as we think we know who we are, our personalities change as we age. However, those changes often sneak up on us, and can be difficult to notice if we are not looking for them.  Of course meditation is a great tool for noticing inner shifts in personality or values, and for exploring the new spaces that might have opened up around who you are and what matters.  But so too is just sitting with a (hot or cold, or both) beverage of choice, looking out the window, being quiet and welcoming what you find in the stillness.

Somewhat synchronicitously (don't come for me-- I demand that this is a word), last year around this same time I wrote about stillness and appreciating the quiet of transformation. And therein lies more transformation: it will continue to evolve, but I think I have a better understanding today of what stillness means to me and why it is important. The world is so vibratingly loud and chaotic and bursting at the seams. But a lot of the mayhem is window dressing. The quarantine has allowed me to pare down the external stimuli, and in so doing, has opened up an enormous variety of micro-moments that I can notice and appreciate in that quietness.

I think I will always be an extrovert (some would add the adjective "raging" to that descriptor) and the quarantine has definitely been a challenge to the way I experience myself and the world. But in this evolving "differentness" and the changes to what life looks like for all of us, I am grateful to be able to tune in to those small variations and shifts in my day-- and in myself. Because by taking the time and being present to notice these small micro-moments, I am ultimately noticing that transformation is happening and that the future is unfolding, step by incremental step.

But wait! Perhaps all of quiet noticing is feeling a bit too intense on a sunny Sunday morning? Then please feel free to get super loud and rage-y about the mind-numbing disaster that is the wealth of Jess Bezos and how deeply problematic it is for one person to have that much money. We created a world where this kind of deep inequality is possible. And it needs to change. He is not the only problem, but he is a big one.  I was not a big online shopper before the quarantine, but will never be ordering off Amazon again. Please feel free to join me.

Still too much realness?  Then please enjoy this fantastic tweet/ TicToc of a Tina Turner fan. This is what people meant when they said great art would come out of the hardship of the pandemic 

From one low-energy person to another, I am glad that we can notice the subtleties of transformation together. I hope you enjoyed this dispatch, and have a noticing-filled week!

Until next Sunday,
The Earnest Platypus