The Archives.

Restlessness, cleaning, and sunlight.

Today is one of those slow days, thankfully. No plans. No desire for plans. I rearranged my living space, it was feeling a bit cluttered and overwhelming. I moved my work computer to my standing desk to allow for my writing desk to actually be for, well, writing. I moved the desk directly between the windows, in spite of the air conditioner. It really isn’t pleasing to the eye, but summer me appreciates it.

This morning while journaling I was contending with my worry, fear, anxiety, and general overwhelm trying to coordinate the week ahead. The whole, “how do I do it all?” I still don’t know. But at least I am calmer about it.

I had spotted one of my old red journals on my bookshelf, I grabbed it for some wisdom. I laughed when I opened the pages from December 2022 and realized I was contending with the same topics. The desire to hit the reset. To play. To laugh. To not stress so damn much. To stop taking myself so friggen seriously. I still haven’t learned how to breathe.

Play. Good God, how do we play more? Given the state of the world, work, kids, cost of living… the juggling most of us do is insatiable. Within these pages though, I reminded myself to trust. Or maybe it was a letter to my future self of 1.5 years later, to trust. To breathe. To play. To surrender. To know that there is so much outside of our reach, outside of our control, but how we continue to respond is within our grasp, always.

“You can’t be free if you are clinging to anything.” I wrote to myself. “Trust liberates me. Trust keeps me free. Our agency is a practice.” Damn, I was wise then. Perhaps I should listen to her. Our agency IS a practice. Our breath is a practice. Our willingness to play and dance is a practice.

Dear my 2022 self, I still get spun out, but I hear you. I hear you that chronic surrender is the work. It is where freedom exists.

Make room to play. Slow the F down. Just sit, on a summer’s day, in your underwear, listening to acoustic music, staring out the window, and breathe. It doesn’t matter if you get to the to-do list. It doesn’t matter if you don’t figure it “all” out. There isn’t a destination. There is no there. There is no arriving, only being. Be. And for the love of God, breathe beloved.

There is levity when we are willing to loosen our grip, particularly over ourselves. We don’t have to cling. I think the secret to desire is holding it lightly. I have always taken it all so seriously; life. As if I think pain will not arrive if I take it seriously and don’t make any wrong moves. To control it all. Oh my, it has never worked. Not having fun has never stopped pain. It just means I don’t have fun! Silly girl.

Connection. Sacred connection to all the parts. To the darkness. To the light. To the joy. To the sadness. To the love. Oh, to all the love. That is where life is at. That is where boundless abundance dwells in all of her glory.

It’s okay for you to choose your life and choose your choices. We have no power over others or that which is outside of us. We can however, choose for ourselves. We can choose to exhale. To dance with our light. Our emotional wells are holy.

I can acknowledge that with everything going on in the world, it deeply affects my capacity to hold all the things. I have to honor my own capacity. It’s okay to put things down and honor that I can’t hold it all. It’s okay to sit in the quiet stillness and just be alive. For this moment, just being alive is enough.

So, I am here, alive. Attempting to play. Dancing with my soul. Staring out the window. Letting the light hit my face. Don’t carry it all today beloved, we can’t.

All the love,

ah