autumn equinox rolled in sleepily, catching me under blankets, under the weather. my epic continuous to-do list blew out of my head, a breezy day shaking closed windows. curled in bed with gus the cat, i meditated about the approaching sickness, sensing my way towards the best route back to health. take the day slow, i heard. make soup, make tea, take a hot shower. read. bake. stretch.
so i listened, and let my day of empty cool weather fill slowly with warm, easy movement, music and words, hot water. i left all the shoulds under the pillows, to be picked up again at a different time.
i turned on the stove, chopped onions and cauliflower, hot peppers garlic and zucchini; junk soup was not an agenda item, it simply happened with my hands. large cups of nettle ginger tea settled me while the finishing touches of september's music mix fell into place. the shower was hot and long and i felt no guilt. i picked up and put down four different books, finishing one and opening another for the first time. somewhere in there, a private dance party occurred, as usual.
in the evening, overtaken by sweet cravings and a desire to turn on the oven, i began folding together the ingredients for chocolate mint cookies, an established comfort food. missing a key ingredient, a sunset walk to the store was inevitable. upon arrival, i felt out of sorts, bright lights and people, interactions and choices. somehow, i purchased items to make a linzer torte, and accidentally left without the mint extract. i turned and headed back, this time without headphones and with a greater sense of focus. back at home, the bowl of almost-finished cookie dough greeted me.
with the comfort baked into sweetness, the endless pot of spicy soup on the stove, the music mix completed, and nighttime all around, i wrapped myself again in covers, tulsi tea at my side, book in hand. i slipped easily into sleep and dreamed of bombs almost going off, a quiet revolution under the surface of a country. i woke up bleeding.
autumn equinox rolls the sun from virgo to libra, so perhaps it's no surprise that the combination of feeling sick, seeking warmth, and wanting to share food all rolled into a deep longing. a desire for relationship, but more specifically, a romance, a partner.
i walk often around town with my headphones, daydreaming about to-do lists and creative projects, moving my head to beats, letting my heart swell to melodies. often i muse about romantic longings, and, like sandpaper, they rub up against the very real busy-ness that is my daily life. for many many months, i have asked myself if i have it in me to give what i seek, to offer what i need/want/wish for. the answer is often a painful no. i don't create the necessary space in my life for this.
almost every day, my calendar is filled from the moment i awaken until i go to bed at night. i hardly get enough sleep, believing i can catch up next season. in the last year, i have started to prioritize the solitude i need. it took me a long time to realize how many hours i must set aside for myself, simply to think/write/meditate.... a lot. each morning, i prefer to wake up and write for over an hour, and i usually need another hour each day just to think. this is best done sitting in my room or by the water & meditating, or going for a walk with my headphones.
the life list starts rolling in.... there are at least 25 big writing projects that i've half-started, not to mention the constant ongoing music-mix-making and friend packages i'm forever trying to mail. then there are all my favorite confidantes that i crave time with, whether in person (in madison) or via phone. there is music to be created, bands to start, guitars & drums & pianos to play. there are sobrinos that grow so rapidly i get time-whiplash whenever we hang out. there are lots of smart amazing talented people i want to get to know better, so many powerful speakers and workshops to attend (for free!) at the university, endless music shows and dance performances and fundraisers around town, birthdays to celebrate, you name it.
all this must come in between and around the three other major time-consuming parts of my life: my paid job (32 hours each week), my role as cooperative-owner of bare bones farm (12-24 hours each week), and my commitment as part of the groundwork collective (varies).
the other day, i asked myself if i fill my life the way i do because i don't have the romantic relationship(s) i desire. then i realized how this has actually been a habit of mine for a long time: constant productivity, busy patterns, so many things to juggle. the difficult truth is that this was the gift and the curse that i brought into my last longterm relationship. as a gift, i was often processing so many different experiences, learning and growing rapidly, seeking and stretching and taking on more and more. like this quote i read last night: "'i change too quickly: my today refutes my yesterday. when i ascend i often jump over steps, and no step forgives me that. when i am aloft, i always find myself alone. no one speaks to me, the frost of solitude makes me tremble. what do i want in the heights?'" (from thus spake zarathustra) my own self-determination is a gift that allows me to look inside as well as in multiple directions for the connection and validation i seek, not simply to impose this as pressure on one single person/partner. i know that this is a strength i bring, and something i look for in others as well.
but i have also become highly aware of what a curse these workaholic, intensely productive patterns are. the questions i wrestle with now are things like- have i internalized capitalism so intricately that i cannot separate my being from my doing? am i hypervigilant with momentum to avoid the crash of inertia? why does slowing down often lead me into depression? at what point does my individual sense of stress leak into the lives of the people who care about me? how does my pace and drive to process things quickly (and change rapidly) put pressure on others? how does my workaholism leave no room for the spontaneous? have i become too serious? too isolated? do i allow things the time to unfold at their own pace, or am i constantly pushing? how can i transform my tremendous guilt when friends and family want more of my time than i have to offer?
so i get it now. i have a lot going on in my mind most of the time. i hold myself to particular standards, i don't like my time to be wasted, and i create a life where i am always learning something new. i am an intense creature. this often bothers other people, as intensity is a quality that others are either drawn to or repelled by. i believe my drive to constantly move, produce, and explore comes from a deep passion and creativity, a longing to be fully living my life. the irony is that it often keeps me from being fully awake and alive in the moment. i am forever reflecting on the past or chasing something into the future, seeking depth and expansion elsewhere.
so on the autumn equinox, it all lies bare. a day of slowness & spaciousness stirs up the fierce longing in me, for sweetness, tenderness, companionship, silliness, care, compassion, connection. when all is pulled away, the simple days of warmth, food, books, and blankets are ones i want more of. true nourishment.
i send this wish now into the magic of the equinox: help me make more space in my life like this. then tell romance to come over, like lightning.
"'this tree stands here alone on the mountainside; it has grown up high above man and animal. and if it wished to speak, it would find no one who understood it: so high has it grown. now it waits and waits - yet what is it waiting for? it lives too near the seat of the clouds: is it waiting, perhaps, for the first lightning?'" (nietzsche)
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