love letter to maintaining my precious soul (half moon)

How do I create a life I’m proud of? How do I stop feeling so low all the time? How do I stop feeling trapped in my own life?

Questions that play in my head and scare me.

I’ve been waking up super late in the mornings. I can barely get out of bed before nine. My body is exhausted all the time. I try to go on walks but the heat leaves me feeling dizzy and I don’t think there’s enough water to hydrate me from my ever-present thirst. I don’t want to judge myself based on my ability especially when I know I’m moving through a swamp.

This swamp is full of everything I’m sick, conversations I’ve outgrown, people that are still stuck on problems I figured out ages ago but the contempt doesn’t get me free from this prison any faster. I want to transport myself to somewhere better and radically different. Stuck doesn’t even begin to describe how trapped I feel.

I went to the beach a few weekends ago and walking in the sand felt like my natural place. Intentional. Each step was calculated and I couldn’t move any faster if I wanted to. Slow. My head was clear. Every day I thought about only my next meal, (did I drink enough water?) and my next nap.

I tried to re-create this when I came back home. I accomplish only two things on the weekends: eating and napping.

I go to the gym to walk on the treadmill for a bit and then I lay down in the red light room til I feel the rays penetrated my skin and did something meaningful under the surface then I look around the room and wonder how everyone feels and if they know they’re closer to their goals than they know.

On the drive home from hearing an author talk about their new novel, I cried. I cried on the way there too. While I was there, I was happy, safe and sleepy. Everything changes from minute to hour. My soul’s restless and impatient and at one point it was unbearable. Right now, I know it’s a transitional period. Getting older is recognizing familiar experiences. I tell myself: this isn’t my first time, I’ll feel better eventually, my body’s trying to tell me something. Things are changing, I know they are.

I laugh when I think about how awful transitions felt as a teenager. I would yell so much and cry from the pits of my soul. Now… I journal. I complain. I read sad books and I try to meditate and pray. Staying close to myself. My capacity to hold this suffering changes day to day but I know it has a purpose.

I do a million edits until I’m satisfied with something as simple as a honey garlic chicken recipe- so why wouldn’t that apply to my own life? The only difference is that making changes to my life nowadays are super simple: a clear mind, nutritious food, loads of sleep, brushing and flossing my teeth and a nap, a fun workout and maybe another nap. In a funny way, I expect almost nothing from myself lately, it’s liberating. I want to maintain a routine that respects my preciousness - nothing more nothing less.

Seeing a friend every once in a while, laughing at a cafe, checking out a book from the library, going on a long walk, there’s nothing in life more precious than that. Moments like that make me cry not because I’m sad but because I know the relief will come soon after. I pray for relief but I know I don’t need it right this moment. I want to learn from this emptiness but I don’t want to be consumed by it.

I used to wake up late wondering if I missed the morning. I could spend a lifetime pondering on what I’ve already missed out on. Now, I just enjoy the quiet, stillness. I lock eyes with my cat, who is typically very irritated with me for jostling her from her own slumber. We blink and take a deep breath and look around the room. I’m never in any rush to move around in the morning. I write down my sily dreams and try to find a reason to smile so I don’t take them too seriously. I pray that the days are the same now so that the years are different later on.

A life that I’m proud of consists of ridding myself from everything that I thought I needed and going back to the basics. A friend to talk to, a comfortable bed and good book. I don’t want to think too much, I hope that tomorrow will come with gentleness.