It’s a beautiful 60-degree February day in Denver. I’m lounging in the sun sipping iced green tea. A neighbor’s cat is stretched out across my lap, her tail flicking softly against my cheek. I glance at the piles of books on the overturned ceramic pot next to me and the crushing weight of reality sets in. I have hours and hours of school work ahead of me, but my mind continues to wander, full of distraction. I close my eyes and tilt my head back to catch the sun’s rays. It feels like springtime. The cat’s tail flicks against my arm. A neighbor child throws a water balloon, another one giggles. I feel content in this moment.
Oftentimes we are so rushed to provide, so pushed to perform, that we forget to slow down enough to be present with ourselves, to allow ourselves the time to check-in with our bodies. How are we really feeling? Take a breath of air deep into your belly, exhale slowly. Close your eyes. What does your heartbeat feel like in this moment? What sensations are you experiencing? Our bodies are continuously sorting environmental stimuli all around us. We often forget this because we are always moving and shaking, always on to the next project, continually checking things off a perpetual to-do list.
Our society is a mechanistic steamroller. It’s a conveyor belt of commodities. It pulls us from sleep before dawn and brews our coffee in our favorite mug. It spills that coffee on our white shirts as we accelerate through a yellow light in a desperate attempt to be on time for class, or for work, or to get our kids to school. It’s the same society that packages convenience and pours it into a boiling pot of water on our stoves. It launches us into our beds at night with exhausted bones and heavy sighs. It’s a tossing and turning of insomnia and a dreamless debacle.
But what if, for 20 minutes each day, we just sat quietly with our thoughts? What if the overwhelming pressures of our day could be silenced for 20 sweet minutes of presence? We have the potential to make and do great things if we disconnected from social media for a short time. If we turned our phones off and turned inward, we could liberate ourselves for a moment, or for a lifetime. What nagging questions do we have cycling through our minds? How much would our lives improve if we took the time to just be alone with those questions? What might we discover about ourselves? What internal tangles could we potentially unravel? What do we fear most and do we have a plan to overcome those fears? Do we slow down enough to tell those closest to us they’re loved deeply and always? Do we slow down enough to smell our lover’s hair or notice the pattern of freckles on our children’s faces? Today, while sitting in the sun with a gray, purring cat on my lap, I decided to accept a late, late night of school work in return for some quiet, introspective time to myself today. First, I would enjoy the sunshine, then I would let my fingers find the keyboard. I would force myself to write whatever came to mind, no matter how mundane or absurd, and here’s what eventually poured out:
While sifting through and sorting both tangible things and memories of forever-gone-moments, I’ve been noticing the lessons I’ve learned along the way. Fresh beginnings are the most real for me…the pivots in my lifeline, the folds in the fabric of my existence are where I find the most comfort… the routine of continual, perpetual change and transition are like resurrecting breaths. I’ve always lived in cycles... linear progress is a foreign concept to me and I’m finally okay with that. The choices we make in this present moment will either carry us forward or cement our feet to an inward spiral. I choose a forward motion, an outward and expansive growth that carries me from one phase to the next.
The bones of what I want for myself are still growing; at times, they ache and they splinter, but I find my footing and move forward. My dreams grow as I grow. It’s been a constant issue of lifestyle incongruity since the day I realized my worth, since the moment I decided what I want is within reach if I strategize and hustle. I finally know, in my heart of hearts, that I am worthwhile, that I’m self-made and real. I refuse the stagnancy that’s been pressed on me, expected of me. Why is it that others’ views of you can oftentimes be more influential than your own view of yourself?
Thanks to the abundance of obstacles & lessons I’ve faced in this life, I’ve finally acquired the tools I need to overcome immense struggle and disappointment. Heartache and abandonment may be things I’ve experienced countless times, but it’s that same pain that can add momentum to progressive movements. We are lucky to see the face of adversity, acknowledge it and move through it in a productive and expansive way.
All that being said, what I’ve learned in the past few years: trust is earned, not given freely. Things are often not as they seem, for an image is an image and nothing more. Authenticity is quickly becoming another commodity and I vow to live from a space of genuine service to humanity. Struggle and pain are catalysts, not permanent hinderances. Fear is healthy if you’re actively working to free yourself from it. Love is real, love is tangible. Love is a tender morning kiss of coffee-breath and a weeping mess at 3am. I was born with Mars in retrograde. I have a cardinal T-square in my natal chart. I’m still young. I still have a lifetime of accomplishments ahead. Thank God for second, third, and endless chances.
Our time on this planet is valuable. Take those 20 slow minutes every day to check in with yourself. Be conscious of your breath. Feel the powerful organ that pumps life through your body. Acknowledge those thoughts that bubble to the surface of your mind. Untangle and allow solutions to come. Maybe now you’ll dream freely and vividly and beautifully again. Maybe now you'll wake every morning feeling more and more alive.
