Living with this new kind of heat has brought things to their edges. You've witnessed the tantrums and my levels of discomfort- the climate change unhinging what was and what is now. I am beginning to acknowledge what I have let go of, what exists and what I seek in this melee of change, uprooting and planting mid-life. The tended friendships with morning walks and birthday dinners, the filling of time with trips to the grocery store or a pedicure, the urgent call to the chiropractor because your son's fever spiked and she fits you in between appointments, the friendly waves as you drive into town, the bike ride to get ice cream with the kiddos on a hot day, the little gifts that appear on your stoop from friends, just because. I am not saying that things are not percolating or taking root here- friendships are forming; routines becoming; specialists and helpers are being discovered. And I have pinch me moments every day.
However, in this landscape of figuring things out, I realize the ease that used to exist. I see the tendencies and the graces that made a day. Mind you, I am not longing for the was', rather efforting to create new pathways for ease to exist again. We chose to make the change and invited awe and unknowns. With the sun is a teacher, the humidity a guide, steep hillsides as boundaries, water a reprieve and the shade a new sanctuary for this sunshine seeking soul, new lessons are unfolding. With this unchartedness of new extremes, I tend to my angst and release toxic beliefs, stories and issues that can go unnoticed (or just untended) when life runs fast. Life can't move fast here- it's too steep, too hot, too exposed- but still the living lives on. New rhythms and balances, adjusting circadian clocks, needs changing, graces surfacing. The heat invites a stillness to listen, a tenderness to rise- even as it stirs angry pots of things put aside.
I watch flies that seek warm bodies, listen to birds harmonizing in the midst of an unexpected shower, observe waves that meet the reef when there's no wind to speak of, find downy nests holding fast to prickly cactus branches, note a wilting tomato plant, feel a cool tile under my foot in the courtyard. Tantrums aside, I'm trying to practice the mindset of, "If I can't get out of it (the heat), I might as well get into it." There is no going around the swelter, but there can be a kind asking of my body to acclimate, an allowance of what is there to exist- be it frustration, discomfort, or raw and itchy feelings. The shift from annoyance to acceptance asks me to work my way through the drips of sweat and seek shelter as I can. My lifelong tendencies to plug along to get along, with a minimal amount of complaining (or even just saying out loud how I truly felt), is shifting along these fault lines that are presenting themselves. Little earthquakes (they stir us in the night here regularly) are asking me to let go of something and to find more flexibility/adaptability somewhere- be it in my beliefs or in my routines. My lifelong practice towards perfectionism, or rigid attempts there of, sabotages the possibility of self-compassion creeping into the cracks that are revealing themselves, holding me captive to uncomfortable anger and, at times, debilitating fear.
Meanwhile, the currents of our new climate beg me to shed parts of myself that are no longer serving; my hair, my attitude, my jewelry, my doubts. Sure, I'm grieving a beautiful life that was (warts and all) and working my hustle at something completely different for everyone in my family. My "go to's" in self-care are shifting and I try them on with ginger gusto- surfing (amazing, hard and terrifying at the same time), finding hiking trails to walk and ground myself (even if it means getting giant blisters because I so rarely wear socks and sneakers), forgivably shifting the timing of my "happy hour" spritzer (it's 5 o'clock somewhere!), waking before the sunrise to meditate and sit, having fun with my Survivor obsession. I take my time climbing up the hill from the beach to our house (no prizes for 1st place!). I regularly drive at 25mph uphill and 20mph downhill- 30mph seems too fast! I always have a big brimmed hat close by. My water bottle size keeps getting bigger and ice-cubes are my friend.
I think you get the idea- I throw things at the wall and see what sticks/works as I manage the heat (internal and external), practicing curiosity which was once an always. I'm sharing how I feel, in writing and with phone calls. I'm realigning myself, finding my sturdy along the fault lines, as I invite patience and persistence into my heart to cool my blood.
Commentaires