The other day on a walk, my friend told me that all of the big parts of his life were in flux; housing, work, money, love. None of them felt firmly planted, nothing was certain. And yet with all that uncertainty, he felt really solid. Meditation, walks with his dog in nature, art – – these were the consistents in his life, the things that he could rest in and which sustained him when all about him swirled in change.
I’ve been thinking about my friend as I take a look at the year ahead and the expectations that I have for myself. There’s a tendency for me to plan ahead, to already have 2014 envisioned and ready to roll out; new business ideas, new classes, exciting new projects. Big plans fueled by big ambition – that’s where I’m comfortable – when I’m sinking my teeth into things and making them happen.
But try as I might, that’s not where I am right now. I’m breathing, that’s for certain, and there are some wonderful small projects I’m offering in the New Year, but I’m moving more slowly. The big ideas, the flashy offerings, they’re not crystalized yet – they’re still fuzzy, still being fleshed out. And some of them may never happen. If I sound relaxed about this it’s only because this is what’s been working me for weeks, so I’m getting used to being in this foggy place where I can’t see past my own feet.
I have tried to catapult myself to a “better” place for sure.
In the last three weeks I have met separately with three deeply creative, brilliant women who all spent time trying to help me bring more clarity to my work in 2014. Each woman had great ideas for me – but as I listened, I just kept hearing this really quiet “no” inside of myself.
I didn’t understand it, it wasn’t practical and it was very uncomfortable. I felt sad, visionless and tired. Whereas last year at this time I had projects mapped out, retreats booked, confirmations from writers who were coming to the house to teach. But as 2014 loomed, I had none of that. If I needed anything, I needed a break, a chance to take my brain off line, but it was hard to let myself relax and trust that ideas would come.
Each day for the last many weeks I awoke with the hope that I’d come up with a vision for what I wanted to build in 2014. Maybe my walk with Andrea would birth something, maybe my meeting with Willo, this talk with Alex, this day with Jen…maybe someone else would see something that I couldn’t see and tell me what to do.
But nothing. All my encounters with these friends were lovely, but no green lights, just more quiet.
Then a couple of things crossed my path that helped me out a lot.
A simple posting on Face Book by Hannah Marcotti about sadness, which had me feel less alone and ashamed of feeling so unassembled. Not everyone was hooting and hollering about the New Year apparently.
Then my old friend Maya Stein sent me a home made card with the words, “Do not move more than you absolutely have to,” and which felt like a sign to stop pushing myself to figure things out. It was such a relief to have a good friend know me so well.
Later that day, my friend Sonya Lea sent me a wonderful link by the writer + actor, Tracy Letts, on How to Lead A Creative Life. In it he lists 10 things creative people need to do, the first being,
Don’t do anything – in which he instructs people to sit for long periods of time staring at the wall day dreaming. No music, no phone, no newspaper, no computer, no internet. Just staring and letting a lot of small nothings rise and fall for a very long time, like breaths, like waves. For days, he says. Same thing when you’re driving; no music, just day dream. He reminded me that day dreaming is a creative person’s medicine, and is the opposite of forcing things. It takes patience and it takes some faith, but it’s essential because what arises from that fertile, organic place inside of me – as opposed to that forced, fearful place of – Oh shit, what the hell am I doing in 2014? – is going to be a lot more authentic and sustaining for me. It’s also the place the “yes” might live.
And so back to my friend with his life in flux, nothing certain except how he holds himself in that place, how he finds the stability in what feels unstable. That’s my medicine right now, that’s what I’m sinking my teeth into. What I find I do not know, but I will keep you posted.
I love this, learning to be comfortable with discomfort, with not knowing. I adore you, but you already knew that. xo
you are one of my biggest teachers for this style of learning Jill. I am listening and watching you. xxxx
I feel you. I love that you’re honoring your No. That you’re willing to sit through the stillness, trusting that your answers will come when they’re ready to be seen and heard. And may you be rested and refreshed when those scrumptious answers arrive…
Many hugs!
thank you Dar – – what a lovely comment – so confirming and kind. Much love to you in the New Year!
This is something very big that I’ve faced this year as well…the acceptance of not knowing, not having a plan. Seeing what that was and how I struggled against it (telling myself stories, not pretty ones either, to fill the void; trying to force movement when what actually felt right was stillness) was probably one of the biggest accomplishments of 2013 for me. Just identifying it…yay me!
What also comes to mind as I read your beautiful words is TRANSITION. Go read anything by William Bridges (can I say that I love that a man named Bridges is known for his work on transitions?) And you’ll see what I’m talking about. This has been a year of transition for you and with that comes certain loss and adjustment and periods in the twilight zone. As you move through this time you may not know where you’re going our where you’ll end up (or how or why or when) but you will get through it and who knows what blessings will emerge???
Love you, chica! May this new year be full of surprising insights and beauty (and health and abundance and happiness and all the rest).
Susie
Susie – – thank you so much for these loving, wise words. Very helpful and kind. It feels good to be understood and seen by you. Has me feeling less naked and alone. Big love to you this year honey – – and let’s envision a walk in the woods sooner than later. xxx
Absolutely! I would love to.
Laurie,
I know you are such a do-er, a person of action, that this is a challenging place to be. I hear ya sister! As a person also in transition, with lots of uncertainty looming, especially where work is concerned, I am listening closely to you and your welcome wisdom in life challenges. Dreaming is good and important, what another artist friend of mine calls “wool gathering.” Deep breath, take it in and trust in yourself. Love you! Xo Steph
steph – I love that – wool gathering. Thank you. Perfect. I bet that’s what porches and rocking chairs are all about. Never too early to sweep the porch and start rocking. Love and thanks t you for all the miles we’ve walked and talked about these things. xxx
To be part of this beauty amazes me. Thank you for all of this.
This year I’ve wanted to slow down, to give myself so much white space, to feel my sadness and stop numbing through working so much. I have even wanted to not earn as much money (am I allowed to even say that I ask myself) or atleast let the hustle go.
I want to be where yes lives.
This is a gift. Thank you deeply.
Hannah, thank you for your realness and for inspiring that in me. I’m curious about letting the hustle go but allowing ourselves to shine even brighter. I’m not sure what that really means, but I think there’s some deep self care involved. Here’s to more of that this year! Lots of love and thanks.
Makes me think of what I’ve noticed about my own transitions–that often there’s a “gray” space between “here” and “there.” The gray spaces feel yucky–unmotivated, unenergetic, unfocused. A hard place to be for those of us who are planners. But if you can sit with the feeling and honor it, as you are, it will bear fruit. I think of it as the seed germinating underground–no sunlight on it, in the cold and dark. But things are happening under there and soon a little spring green sprout will poke it’s head above the soil, full of life, new and fresh.
Chris, so right, so good to remember this. There’s more going on than what we can see. It’s humbling – – I’m not in charge all the time. Thank you so much for reading and commenting and here’s to those hidden forces. xxx
You’re such an inspiration. I’ve been learning this lesson more & more over the past few years. I think what you continually give me is permission – and by writing this you’re making it OK for all of us to relax into the new year and not worry about the hustle of what we accomplished this year and what we want to make in the new year. I’ve chosen “flow” as my word for 2014 and this post could not come at a better time. xo
Justine, thank you so much for reading and writing to me. I think we work together – every time one of us takes a risk or tries something new, every time we share something real and speak to where we really are, it gives everyone else permission. You can be that person for me anytime – love to hear from you. Best new year ever! xxxx
This was such a helpful post. I feel as though I have been in this place for a long time, trying to figure out the vision I want for my business, praying for signs, and not getting anything. I tried just sitting with things, but probably haven’t given it enough time. I love how your friend mentioned the fearful place and I know I don’t want to make decisions from there. Lots to think about-or not =) Thanks!
Amy – thanks for this note – I’m with ya. I saw a movie the other night where a sailboat was stuck in the middle of the sea because there was no wind. But eventually, of course, the wind picked up and off the boat went. Here’s to a little wind in 2014!
I once worked with an art teacher who allowed her students the option in their free time of day dreaming. They couldn’t put their heads down and close their eyes (in other words, no sleeping!), but didn’t have to read or draw or produce anything. Imagine that…a few moments of the school day without a stated learning objective…so subversive! Now, how can I work this in to my 45-minute middle school math classes?
Liz – good question! Math has such a musical, creative side, doesn’t it? Maybe there’s music for math – and at least that can soften the blow of all those hard numbers.
I don’t know. I love that you’re thinking about it though.
xxx
Thanks Laurie. xo
Love this. Thank you. I am right there with you.
xxoo
“I have tried to catapult myself to a “better” place for sure.”
Oh this line rings so true for me. And the whole essay for that matter. Thanks for putting into words the feelings of discomfort of not having a plan.
But on a note toward movement – I am writing from the original 27 Prompts and signing up for 27 More Prompts. It will be a delight to work with your inspirations and others who share this passion for truth telling. Looking forward to January 20th.
Love and Hugs,
Kitty Kat
PS – I sure wish I lived closer and could attend your live classes. Maybe a retreat this year!!
kitty kat! BIG KISS! and thank you for reading and riding along with me here!
That’s interesting — your mention of the fact that you’re not indulging the sense of “what the hell am I doing in 2014” brought to mind the fact that I didn’t do that this year either. Typically, in late December, I find myself fretting about the fact that I didn’t accomplish enough during the previous year (which is really code for “I didn’t become well-known enough during the year”). But this year, that voice was much quieter, if it spoke at all. I think this signifies that I’m moving in the right direction.
I love this Chris – – “I didn’t become well-known enough during the year.” So true. When you work for someone else there’s a way in which you can measure your progress, just by whether the person you’re working for smiles when they see you, pats you on the back, says thank you or even gives you a raise. When you’re working for yourself it’s easy to stay on that hustle train, or feel that you should because lord knows, the work never ends…and if you find yourself at the top of whatever mountain you were climbing, you know that you can’t stay there unless you keep climbing – – keep the engines firing. People might wave or smile or appreciate, but you’re the dude who keeps the biz moving – no one else! Love what you wrote, thanks.