thread 001: gray dawn PANTONE14-4106 TCX

Recently, I’ve found myself tentatively exploring liminal space: the moments between Moments, the sound between breath and heartbeat, the tiny crevices of the day in which there is no demand, no duty, no words, just the end of one slipping into the beginning of another. 

Had you asked me even a month ago, I would have told you these spaces are inconsequential at best and wasted at worst. Today I am finding them full of possibility. These are the spaces in which you can actually hear what your body is telling you. Moments in which you can connect the dots across the day to finally understand something. Snatches of boyish grins and eyes full of delight. How much have I missed by insisting these everyday moments be maximized, stuffed beyond reason or simply rushed through?

For so long, I have lived my life as if I were mere steps from a Life Well Lived (TM). Indeed, I have even spent many an hour lamenting how this or that derailed me from my journey. Yet I am discovering that a LWL is not an end point on some cosmic map, but a humming invitation in this very moment to pay attention. To observe and accept what is in front of me without judgement or dismissal. Many moments of life are Dawn Gray - inconspicuous, tonal so as to not be completely invisible or ignored, yet infused with beauty the more you take it in. 

Each of us is weaving a technicolor tapestry, and this is mine.

taking stock

sometime at the end of 2021, i took a scalpel to the things that took up my time. i sliced away my social media accounts, snipped off the news reports, cut through anything that interfered with the things i most desired - connection, presence.

it produced the results i had hoped for, a drawing down into everyday life, a narrowing of my field of vision, an invitation to stop believing the myth that i can do all the things, all the time. 

it did not, however, make everything all perfect and light. (obviously.)

if anything, it freed up more of myself to recognize the weight and preciousness of the everyday moments in front of me: the heft of a preschooler's gaze on you as you play with him. the gravity of a lucid conversation with your grandmother whose memory is quickly slipping. the brilliance of a family dinner, laughter clinking around the plates. 

it has also made me aware of the emotional and mental limits i carry with me, and those not nearly as expansive as i once thought. i am also realizing that the output in each of the aforementioned moments is higher than i originally assumed.

so here i am, asking myself, how do we keep our emotional and mental tanks filled, while not skimping on the love, care and connection we pour out? how do we make space for what we need, while not neglecting all that we have in front of us? i had assumed the work done at the beginning of this season was sufficient to provide me with the margins i needed...i am finding that is only partially true.

reading kate bowler's new book, 'Good Enough´, i found myself struck by this one particular quote she shares in reference to steven pressfield's book, ´Turning Pro´: "the key, says pressfield, is to ask yourself what your life is trying to point to. that's a wonderful and horrible thing to think about."

what does my life point to? what are the pillars of this existence i'm building? are they all pillars i want to be founding my day to day upon? 

one pillar that i know has been missing lately is writing. i am a writer. i enjoy writing, and i have lots of ideas and thoughts that are satisfying to express on the written page. most of my work involves creating new content, writing and editing and revising in such a way to connect with my future users. 

so i´m blowing the dust off this rickety corner of the internet, seeing what comes. i do not have a particular purpose or audience just yet, but i do know i need to write. i'm approaching this almost as an experiment, a new thing to do regularly for the sake of doing it, a rhythm that meets a need and (hopefully) has a positive outcome. it will be interesting to see what blossoms and grows in this space.