If September was the month of all things shitty coming to a head, October was the month of patiently sifting through the mess. I had a distinct from-this-point-on-it-can-only-get-better moment.
It was an oddly mellow month. A time of repose, for the most part, that really felt like the calm after the storm. Strange, considering the high of finishing my first 100k cycle ride, right at the beginning. It was such a high point for me. But, after that, many many long days of feeling quiet happened. It kind of turned into a month of quietude, of doing my best to break fixed patterns, old thought processes, unnecessary expectations. Of slowing down and letting go. And maybe that’s why I felt a tremendous lack of words. Again, not for the lack of things to talk about, but just the lack of motivation to talk about it all. It was a quiet time. In real life too.
I’ve talked about slow days before. Of appreciating solitude. Of savouring the time between the big moments. But nothing, no prior experience of it has been like some of the days I had in October. And that was so crucial to crossing over into the bright, blinding life again. I physically felt like I was returning to myself. Like things were moving, changing.
The universe conspires in strange and magical ways. Almost as if to echo the slowing down inside of me, I was forced to create an atmosphere of slowness around me. VC travelled for a greater part of the month – more days and a longer span than he has been away in a long, long, long time. That inevitably makes me slow down and slip into my own routine, undoing the ways in which we function as a unit. I retreated into myself, escaped on assignment, sank into my very own un-routine. I read a fair bit. This book, and some more. But mostly it was a time of being forced to sit with myself. To truly examine what is happening within, up close. I didn’t have a routine, responsibilities or work to busy myself with, or use as an excuse to ignore it this time. And honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better time or coming together of events that eventually forced me to do just what my therapist asked me to: empty my mind. I realise that is perhaps why so much of what I have been talking about has been so cryptic, nebulous. I’ve been so non committal about putting any of it in words that really make sense or tell you exactly what is going on. But that is just the way it is. Part of me cannot find the words, part of me doesn’t want to try. It wasn’t all easy, but it was so essential, so needed. And as with all transformational change, it takes time. It’s never like the turning of a switch, but more like the slow unraveling of a sock. Eventually, you reach a point where you begin to see the light. And if you’re anything like me, you feel immensely overwhelmed and thankful for all that helped in taking you there. Somewhere in between, I hit the 300 post mark, despite it being a low month in terms of blogging. And sent out a newsletter.
It was a slow month. And it had it’s moments of difficulty. But it was such a good month. The benefits of going solo are seriously underrated. But very often, it is the link between wallowing in a mess and coming out of it. And now, I just want this week to be over so I can fly off on my holiday.