Recently, I took a trip to the snowy mountains of Canada. It’s a beautiful, natural and serene place — the kind of place where the silence feels good — where it sits comfortably both in, and around you. I ended each day watching a burning red sunset melt into the snowy horizon and woke up to the soft, yellow glow of a rising sun peeking through pine trees. The days were wonderful, despite them being busy, and I spent a good deal of time consuming good food, good wine, and great company.
When I returned back to my chaotic, everyday life, where the mountains are skyscrapers and the quiet is interrupted by wailing sirens and manmade noise, I felt rattled and frustrated by how difficult it was to stay in touch with myself and to maintain a bigger perspective. Sure, there’s a fleeting quality to experiences you have when you’re in a peaceful place like I had been: time felt as if it moved more slowly and because of that, things, life, people — I, had more time to settle in. Yet, despite the idyllic setting, the question of, how can you stay connected, etched itself into my mind.
I don’t believe that I’ve figured it out, and I’m glad for that because, in my pursuit of looking to stay connected to that place — the place that you can listen closely to your intuition, where you can find solid ground, draw from for inspiration, and feel tethered to something — has been the connection itself. We always find ourselves nostalgic for periods in our life when we were ambitiously chasing something, when the passion and desire to get somewhere was a better feeling than actually getting where you want to be. In this case, I think there’s a similarity. Perhaps, the effort of trying to stay connected, and the sweetness of the tiny and escapable moments where you find it, is the most admirable and worthwhile part of the process itself. Maybe, it is a little more shapeless than we might think. Maybe, “staying connected” is simply remembering you already are.
Here are a few things that help to remind me all this sh*t is totally worth it:
to lose myself
inside this soft world—
to instruct myself
over and over in joy,
“Life moves and continues; for me this is the basis of what I consider to be GRACE.”
“But in order to survive — both as individuals and as a civilization — and especially in order to thrive, we need the right balance of critical thinking and hope.”
“…sit still long enough to find out what moves you most”