August Break

Or was the end
a window
so clean
you didn't see
the glass
or the latch
Unlock it now
Open it
And fly free

I wrote these lines early this morning with a dear friend in mind. She is on home hospice. I feel her spirit though she's 1,000 miles way. Life and death in lockstep, with the window between.

A friend remarked to me on the phone one day -- this was maybe a few months ago -- that I always seemed so present to her. I laughed when she told me this, as a ripple of genuine surprise passed through me. And I want to let you in on something: If I seem present, it's not because I'm just naturally settled and dwelling in the moment.

On the contrary, if I didn't practice tuning into the present moment, I'd be a mess and make everyone in my life miserable. (Just ask them.) I started exploring mindfulness in college, thanks to Dr. Polly Wheat in the Barnard student health center who introduced me to Thich Nhat Hanh. That was edging on 30 years ago (!). When it comes to a formal practice, all bets are off. But when it comes to a way of life, I really do try.

As I wrote those words, a butterfly fluttered past, just like the one in the photo. I was talking with a new client yesterday about the cocoon -- how the caterpillar body dissolves, how a death of sorts precedes transformation and, eventually, emergence. I'm also reminded of a phrase that came to me earlier in the week: Doing, not dreading.

This came out of my call with my own coach last week. I was telling them about how I can burn a lot of mental energy anticipating things. They wisely suggested setting a timer for 20 minutes to work on whatever the thing is, then not think about it until the next 20 minutes. Brilliant.

Being present simply means doing what we're doing when we're doing it, noticing what's happening, ideally with a degree of curiosity, and slowing down so that we're not just reacting and functioning on autopilot. It might not sound like I'm writing about writing, but of course this is why I always talk about writing + life.

To use a fun double negative, the two are never not separate.

I do a lot of doing. (Thankfully more doing than dreading these days!) I also recognize the steady barrage of messages that make me feel like if I'm not doing, I'm somehow not being productive, and if I'm not being productive, then GASP. Terrible things could happen.

Yes, I'm being a little bit silly, but in a really real sense, this belief is deeply tethered to a sense of safety in the world. If I DO things, you will know who I am. I will exist. If I DO things, you will appreciate me. I will be needed. I will be connected.

And that, beautiful friends, is fundamentally why I will once again be taking the month of August to NOT do. So that I can remember what it feels like to know I am known, connected, appreciated, and safe even when I'm not writing, even when I'm not sharing, even when we're not meeting, even when I have no digital presence, even when no one knows what I'm up to and I'm not "being of use."

Except for a couple of short trips, both here in New England, I'll be staycationing. I have no plans to speak of. I imagine there will be running, puttering, baking, and reading. Oh, reading! I am so excited to read for hours at a stretch, my calendar blank, my days unscheduled.

Doing is not a synonym for worthy.

We are worthy because we are.

Maybe you are dissolving, maybe you are emerging. Wherever you are in your own creative process, I hope the coming month gives you opportunities to experience your own inherent worth. Moments of coming into the present moment without having to DO a thing.

Shabbat Shalom & see you in September!

Until then, be good to yourselves and each other.