Disengaging, even for a short time from the steady rush of life, bewilders and disorients me. The days feel long because I am reluctant to fill them. I have to leave the house as early as possible because solitude is not the friend it used to be. I go to cafes for morning coffee in the company of strangers.
I have spent a LOT of time in my work and private life willingly taking care of others, but now I resist the impulse to engage.
This ‘deep dig’ into my life purpose is now less a voyage of discovery than a retrenchment – a consolidation of what I know.
Day 11 of being a non-smoker. Feeling good but still parrying pings of craving. It’s helpful that the smell of a cigarette is repellant. The habit was my useless response to restlessness or anxiety, but I haven’t found all the tools and rituals to address them in new ways.
Internet-acquired wisdom: it takes anywhere from 21 to 66 days to fully abandon a habit. No quick fixes, just day-to-day next steps. Walking helps.
One thing always gives me comfort: tending to plants. I’ve maxed out use of my building’s balcony with potted palms, an infant banana tree, cacti, flowers (carnations, cornflowers, poppies) and herbs. Nearly everything is blooming. It’s riotously beautiful. I’m helping two friends with their gardens, both spaces offering interesting challenges with sun, shade, and overgrowth. Love to do weeding and pruning – the nearly mindless ‘slash and burn” part that requires a few muscle groups that don’t get enough workout.
Major life transitions are exhilarating, depressing, and hella scary.