What if I somehow allowed myself to unwind with writing or with chores? What if I somehow resisted the urge to check twitter or instagram or other social media except for when I want to post? What if my breaks became productive? And honestly, I dislike that word a lot sometimes. But I don’t mean productive in terms of capitalism or whatever, but something that either leaves me feeling better or is otherwise necessary for me to do. Scrolling and mindless content consumption is just something that might give me the “illusion” of feeling better. Right now I’m writing since I’m waiting on a response from a coworker, I should probably be working now instead, but I’m mostly okay with the work I got done today so might as well as do something that leaves me feeling good.
What if I really looked at why I’m unable to let go of so much of my stuff? Why am I attached to things that I haven’t used in a couple of years? I’m definitely a hoarder. And I wonder what the need for “backup” items is. Where does it come from, what does it tell me about myself? What does my stomach feel so tense whenever I think about everything I should let go of? I know part of it is simply the fact that I’ve been putting it off for a while. But the other part I think is simply that.. I feel like I’m not ready to face all of it. Hence I escape and write about it. I suppose I could simply look at it from a “grieve old things, make room for new ones” perspective too, and that could help.
Okay I got distracted. I’m going to switch to using my personal laptop instead.
I think when people say “keep yourself busy” they forget to say that they probably mean “keep yourself busy with things you like to do”. It’s probably obvious but to me I feel like there’s a lot here that I missed out on. Sometimes I make random plans (e.g. social plans, vacations) to “stay busy” but end up feeling worse.
I think I need the time to really look at what I want to be “busy with” next, so that I don’t regret the decisions as much. Regret can be a pretty annoying feeling. Landing in situations where I feel like I don’t have enough control to change can feel extremely heavy. I think once you make a lot of wrong decisions you get quite wary of making wrong decisions again. Though I also think that self-blame for the past and fear of the future is probably just misattribution to some feelings that exist in the present.
I think the internet makes me feel like everyone really has it all figured out. People talk about moves and big changes and it feels like they happen quickly for many people. And maybe they do, but they also happen slowly for a lot of us, and there’s probably nothing wrong with that? I’m in a much better place than I was 6 months ago, and 3 months ago, and 3 weeks ago, and I can probably allow myself to be really grateful for that.
The planning phases are important. But being smart, compassionate and honest during the planning phase is important too. Maybe I was planning in terms of “finding joy”, whereas what I needed to plan for was simply “reduce worries”. It’s like being in an unhappy marriage and planning to find love, whereas the better plan could simply have been getting out of that marriage. Recognizing progress is important for future progress.
And who says I can’t find joy in the little things even when I’m reflecting on the past and planning for the short-term or long-term future? In the past, some of the best things have happened during these periods of limbo and transition. I think I can romanticize pretty much anything. So if I decide to make these temporary periods special, I know I’ll be able to do so.
The pizza dinner you have the first night you move into a new place, sitting on the floor and making plans about the colors you’re going to paint the walls. Developing romantic feelings for a city when you know you’re going to be leaving in three months. Coming to a new city for an internship, planning to only focus on work and getting to know the city but ending up discovering a love for cats instead. Saying goodbye to friends after a vacation and getting unexpectedly warm hugs from some of them.
It’s probably all there, should we choose to look at it. I don’t know why I used to have this feeling of wanting “permanency” and “stability” before letting myself experience joy and happiness, but now I think it’s not that important.
In fact, were these things special because they were ephemeral? What would it really mean, for me to have a permanent job and a (mildly) permanent house and permanent relationships? Would they really be permanent or would I only think of them as permanent? Does the (often false sense of) security actually add much value, or is it mostly illusive?
I have spent a lot of time telling people I miss them. I think the right thing to tell them is that I’m thinking of them. It’s so much more true. I think when we think of people, we’re probably thinking of some specific “time” or moments with them, we miss that. We can’t miss the people because we don’t even know who they might be now. I have spent a lot of time trying to mend broken friendships. But yes, maybe these things were important and special only because they exist in memory, and only because they changed.
So it’s okay that the next few months of my life are going to feel like a summer. And it’s also okay if that’s followed by another.
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References: https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/9324238-the-meaning-of-the-river-flowing-is-not-that-all
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