Life in Flux (want to join me?)
Flux. Flow. Jumbled mess. Quicksilver. Molasses.
That's me and my life these days. All over the place. Stationary. Contradictory.
Lazy, elastic hours stretch on in front of me, or they whiz past like a taut rubber band shot from across the room. I don't know what I'm doing with myself. Some things get done. Others don't.
I've been trying live away from the laptop lately. It's good to get offline and into a book. To close the computer and open the window (on days it's not 90+ degrees). My fridge holds fresh berries, a few avocados, lots of herbs. Tonight I shucked seven robust ears of corn and made a black bean sauce from scratch. Yes, some things are getting done.
Others aren't. I've been trying to write this blog post for days. There's nothing difficult about it -- except putting words next to each other, putting one thought in front of another. Sometimes that's difficult.
I look around the house and see piles of paper, laundry, dust bunnies, stacks of books. I pick one up and start reading.
I look around my mind and see to-do lists, story ideas, plans for family outings, blog posts, big dreams, small fears, corners packed with questions.
Oh, the questions. Those fluxing questions!
I'm living with too many of them these days. It's uncomfortable. They muck up the landscape. They whisper distracting half-secrets. They taunt me with their curvy punctuation marks. It's not that I'm adverse to mystery; I know that's where a lot of the joy and wonder live. But it's unnerving, all these unknowns. Like a math problem with too many variables come to life.
Where do we want to live? What kind of book am I writing? What do we want our daily life to look like? What makes a family? What is my work in this world?
Since coming back from my summer hiatus/graduation/vacation, I've been trying to find my plot, my through-line. I feel like I'm at the beginning of a new chapter, but the words swim around the edges of the pages, refusing to line up into phrases, sentences, paragraphs.
I'm in a time of transition. It's overwhelming, exciting, and confusing. I keep asking out loud and to no one in particular: Where do we go from here? What comes next? What happens now?
I look around and think: I've been here before. I've known other times of flux.
And yet, the landscape is never the same twice. That's the tricky thing about times of transition: What you learn during one can be applied to the next, but not necessarily in a one-to-one ratio.
I don't know exactly what to do to answer these questions and emerge from this transition into the next chapter. I only know what to do generally. Write in my journal. Go outside and breathe. Use my camera to help me see the world around me in a new way. Read. Make dinners and homemade desserts. Talk to friends on the phone and in person. Sit in the quiet and listen to the house settle around me. Go out for ice cream with my husband. Let the cat sit in my lap for an hour-long petting session, even if my leg itches or my bum goes numb.
As I find my way through this transitional time, I realize it's no accident that I'm about to co-teach a course on navigating life's transitions through creativity.
It's coincidental, serendipitous, even amusing, but no accident. It's often said that we teach what we need to learn. I'm beginning to see how this truism is deeply true.
Just as I was entering this time of transition, I was also creating the content for Emerge, the first online course from Live it to the Full. Liz Lamoreux, Vivienne McMaster, and I are teaching it, and it's chock-full of stories and tips about wading through the times of flux, about living the questions.
I'm honored and truly jazzed to be teaching alongside Liz and Viv. They're my friends, but they're also my teachers. They've taught -- and continue to teach -- me so much about being true, about living the creative life, and about taking care of myself.
Class starts in a few days, on Monday, August 1, but you can still register for just $49.
I'm looking forward to sharing my own stories and transition tips, to learning from Viv and Liz, and to taking this four-week journey with everyone who signs up. I'd be honored and jazzed if you joined us. We can follow our paths, sit with the questions, and create together.
Reader Comments (3)
I so love reading your beautiful words.
I cannot wait to journey with you in this Emerge course. I too feel like I am in a state of transition based on many factors.
And one of the good parts? What will come of all of this? I have no idea. Today I feeling okay with that. Others times I'm not. Such in life.
Jodi