After twelve days of stay-cation, filled with cheese, Netflix, holiday cheer, and delightful fuzziness about the day of the week, here I sit, ever so slowly emerging from the cocoon of celebration.
I am facing my phobia of reentry.
Reentry into exactly what?
Waking up at 5 instead of the radically self-indulgent 6:20?
Talking with people, like, in a work setting?
I love these things.
Commuting down the road four minutes?
What’s the problem, Aruni?
I seem unable to remove the remote control from my clutched hand.
I want more stay-cation.
I want to stay in stay-cation.
And now it is now; 2019, the day of the week reveals herself, the sun shines on the little dusting of snow, the birds are delighted and could give a shit about my reentry process.
I have procrastinated writing this week’s blog. I want to continue to sit on the couch in my long johns without brushing my hair. My truest desires emerge; long johns, no hair brushing. (I did, however, brush my teeth before putting my hands on the keyboard, rest assured.)
How are you all doing out there?
How is your reentry into the post-holiday, anticlimactic January?
How are you?
I think this is a slippery slope, this early January thing.
My lovely holiday wreath looks a tad wilted.
I feel a tad wilted.
I’m offering myself, you and me and us, a few super-simple suggestions—here they are, for whatever they are worth:
- I choose to resist making massive proclamations for the ENTIRE YEAR. Example—I choose love and life and health and wealth and will go to the gym twice a day until I die.
I’m pretty sure that would kill me.
- I choose to focus on today—what is it, just for today, that I am choosing? Example—Today? Put pants on top of said long johns, making the transition into the world ever simpler. Get in car, drive to post office and gas station.
That would be massively helpful and self-esteem building.
- I choose to resist being massively decisive and scale my decisions down to bite-sized choices. Example—Rather than choosing which super-expensive air purifier I’m buying, I’m deciding to have a chicken soup for lunch.
Sounds delicious. And easier.
Let’s be gentle on ourselves; we celebrated, we connected, we pulled out of the routine of our habitual days to give ourselves love and light and family and friends and a break from It All.
Let’s go gently back into it all.
If you are facing 528 still-unread emails, or if sit on your couch, willing yourself forward toward the gas station—
If you are facing a day of back-to-back meetings or waiting till your noon phone call with a friend—
Whatever the form of your reentry into this anticlimactic early January, let’s be gentle. Let’s accept ourselves exactly where we are, with tender rigor, with the right use to will.
Without pushing, without plodding, without judgment, one step at a time, let’s move forward into the new/old rhythm of more habituated life.
Let’s look to the light in the day, the rising sun, her journey across the heavens, her early resting place in the west—let’s look to the earth in her ultimate wisdom of rhythms, to reconnect.
I choose to reenter the cycle of light.
I choose to reenter softly the work that I love, writing and coaching and teaching.
I choose to put down the remote control with radical acceptance of the little girl who clutches so tightly onto that which has already ended.
I choose to love that little child—
All the way to the post office.
All the way to the gas station.
All the way to reentry.
All the way into 2019.
One day at a time.
Dear Folks, I hope there was something helpful in this reading today. I’m happy to report that I did make it to the post office and the gas station, although I did forget one vital stop. LIFE! So life-like.
And how are you? How is your reentry? How is your early and anticlimactic January unfolding? Please do keep me posted. I am firstname.lastname@example.org.