Creating a sense of wonder

Sleeping— Masking— Working and mostly chilling.

That has been 2020 and this year so far.

Over a year has passed. And restrictions have tightened.

For me, this pandemic has not changed much of my life. Subtract the masks and I have been living this life even before COVID.

I used to say “once I pay off my debt, I will….”, “when I move out, I will…”

I had precursors to living, and many of them legitimate. But prolonging desires took away a precious asset. Time.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life

Proverbs 13: 12

I am no stranger to deferring things into the distant future, but the pandemic has added a sense of unease in waiting. Especially since the limitations have been externally imposed.

If there is one lesson I have taken from all this, it is that time waits for no one.

It is independent of the pandemic and pays not attention to wishful thoughts.

I have a lot of mental curiosity, but it often goes unexpressed.

One thing that has been missing in my life since childhood is a sense of adventure.

Physical safety is still a priority, but waiting is no longer an option.

I have to do what I can, when I can, where I can.

The pandemic poses certain limitations. But hey, isn’t that the condition that creativity thrives in?

But, out of limitations comes creativity

Debbie Allen

My goal is to create a sense of wonder, and try new things everyday.

For the next 30 days, I will do just that.

Safety is still key and I will observe the health and safety guidelines.

From building a ginger bread house in the spring to starting a new project, I am open to possibility.

These will be small things I do everyday. But, it will make each day special.

I am not sure if I should share this journey, for fear of falling short. But, in the spirit of adventure, here it goes.

The Challenge starts April 20th, 2021 until May 20th, 2021.

Do you have any interesting challenge ideas? What things are you doing to keep yourself engaged during the pandemic?

What should this challenge be called?

Well, I do not have a stylish or elegant way of ending this blog, so, until next time…

Malaika

Clarity in Anger and An Empty Room

I am starring at this mountain. The feat required to climb this obstructive mammoth will require willpower, fortitude and discipline. From all angles, it is jagged and cumbersome. The only way past it is through it. And so, I climb.

This is rather a dramatic analogy to cleaning my room and I do not apologize for the comparison.

I have struggled with organization in my life as an adult. It seems, my mind cannot keep up with the chaos of maintenance. It feels like I am staring at a mountain with a horizon so high into the clouds, and realizing I have to get up one step at a time.

One step.

Only to realize I am walking backwards.

Inspiring for some, overwhelming for others. I was the latter.

I have struggled with organization in my life as an adult.

I have started to accept this notion that subtraction is foundation.

It sounds like an overly philosophical approach to cleaning one’s room. In essence, I have taken an minimalist approach in life. But in practical terms, I rid myself and my space of everything that is not essential to my well being.

I think I have decluttered over 50 percent of what I used to own and it feels so freeing. I have not looked back. In fact, this is considerable knowing I did not own a lot to begin with.

If you have followed my previous posts, I suffer from a cluttered mind. I cannot seem to see past my feet and it has reaped irreversible consequences in my life. It is often painful to think about.

The first step I have taken is to always make sure my room is clean. This idea was cemented after learning about Jordan Peterson’s Rules for Life; Clean your Room.

It felt like no matter what my day is like, no matter how lost I felt, how jaded my mindset, if only I could come back to a clean space, maybe that would be enough.

I still struggled with keeping a clutter free room. It is not that I had too many things. I just did not know why things were there. Until, I started to learn about the concept of essentialism.

Before being introduced to the concept, I used to have this weird habit of tossing things out when I was angry and ruthlessly decluttering my physical space.

Anger was and is a frustrating feeling, but simultaneously freeing.

Frustrating because there is something in the way, and I feel powerless. But freeing, because it gave me more clarity of things I did not care about. Things that did not matter. Did. Not. Matter. I talked about this in abstract in my last post.

Something about anger brought about a process of cleansing, really in a practical way. I tossed out everything in my way. I would rid myself of things I had hoped to pursue but did not. I am not sentimental when I am angry….or rather I am only concerned about the necessary.

I tossed out everything in my way

I still do not know what I want; it’s hazy and opaque. But, with crystal clarity, I know what I do not want. So, I start from the place of subtraction. A via negativa approach.

Having clarity, is like realizing that I do not want to climb that particular mountain, I do not care what is at the top of it. I still have to pass it, so I will walk around it and find something else.

Que in minimalism. Instead of waiting for anger, I take a more proactive approach. Why not eradicate distraction, clutter and sentimentalism in a tangible way.

I look at stripping away the unimportant, rather than learning to maintain chaos.

This ongoing decluttering process has helped my room stay clean.

This seems like a rather trivial or even juvenile accomplishment for an adult, in fact, it is. But, it is also my story as mundane as it is.

There is a point that subtraction can become addictive, a coping mechanism to overwhelm.

At this time, I will not attempt to derive a greater meaning to this than just having a clean space that I can come to at the end of my day.

When it becomes the only thing

I seldom write. I am unmoved.

But when a light gust of wind knocks me down bracing me to the dirt that once shifted beneath my feet, I become anchored to the ground. Unable to get up.

Still gasping for air. Feeling every sharp inhale. Exhaling shards of glass. Writing becomes the only thing.

It is in this solace of desperation truth becomes comfort and solitude becomes a fortress.

I once heard ‘obsession’ imagined as “being in a ditch and having bullets shooting at you from all angles. You want to get out, but you do not know where they are coming from”. I am not obsessed, but this is what it must feel like.

I do not know when I see more clearly; when I am on the ground seeing every crevice and crack, feeling every stone and deep edge in the trenches or when I am standing upright with my head fully immersed in the powdered clouds ignorant of myself and my place in the world.

This state of being is where I have lodge my temporary home. This is where I write.

Otto Regular