The past few weeks gave been an odd combination of active and passive states. Active in the sheer energy and happenings in flow about me, yet passive in how I have been able to just surrender to the situation and how it has consumed me.
I had returned from Europe with grand plans. There was a blog reboot project mushrooming in my head, that I was going to launch into. I was all set to dive right back into work, I wanted to get back to yoga or some sort of exercise (that has dropped to a deathly silent nil in the last few months) and I wanted to spend the last few weeks I can share with VC here doing things around town — eating out, taking walks (our time in Europe made VC and I realise how little we indulge in walking as a standalone activity beyond just getting from one place, at home) revisiting favourite spots in the city and generally giving Bangalore a fitting goodbye (even though I’m not the one leaving just yet, I can’t help but feel a part of me is). But none of that was to be.
There is a lot happening, but none of it earth shattering. And for the first time in a while, I realise this is stasis. Things moving at their place, slowly. No real high peaks or low troughs. Just chugging along. This has been a year of so much activity and movement, mostly in my head. The giant leaps I have felt myself take, the long strides I am always forcing myself to take. I feel I have moved huge distances even as I have tried to sit still. And after almost a whole year of actively seeking that, things are suddenly at a very comfortable plateau. This feels like a time for sitting, sinking, marinading in the work that has been done. A time to sit back, let things unfold as they need to, and enjoy the gifts of my labour.
I’ve been so used to always pushing myself to do better, be better, seek better, seek more — whether in my experiences in Bangalore (because I’ve always felt like my time in this city has been finite, like I’m on a deadline), or my personal self-work. I have been in constant seeking mode for so long now, and the more I have sought and reached out, the more I have received. The more I have received, the more I have filled up, and filled myself of. Finally, things have come to a head. I felt this quite literally last weekend at the closing workshop, when I said my goodbyes and felt physically filled-up. I didn’t sign up for the following workshop. I felt full.
I have sought so much, received so abundantly, and taken in all in so hungrily, now I want to slowly digest it all. This feels like a time for a resettling. And as much as I have acknowledged that I haven’t done all that I wanted to, I haven’t written as much or as well as I have felt things, I haven’t done any reading, I haven’t been out, it hasn’t been with regret or a longing or a feeling of lack. I feel content with things as they are, even though they haven’t worked out to plan.
I realise even more now that this is stasis. It feels delightfully okay. This is such a new kind of contentment for me.
Things are okay. Nothing overly positive to report, nothing alarmingly negative dragging me down either. The time for striving and achieving more seems to have passed. I want to settle and be still. And it feels just about right.