decompose december

some updates

I moved out of my apartment exactly five days ago now. I already miss my room, the way the light flooded in each morning through the windows, sometimes revealing a sliver of vivid sunrise between buildings. Before I arrived at the place I’m living in for this whole month, a friend in Ridgewood graciously offered me her couch where I had a dream I was standing half naked in my sun filled room looking for socks, my plants were in full bloom. I was warm and everything was regular. Just then I awoke with the sharpest feeling that that would never happen again, not there anyway. All around me was unfamiliar besides my own beating heart. I lay there with that sensation, eerie and tender, blinking back a tear until sleep took me back.

Now I’m settling into the new spot. It’s my friend’s home that she left to me to tend to while she visits her hometown. I get to watch her kitty and she gets to spend some quality time with her mom. It’s a great deal. This means my sabbatical is more underway than ever. It’s real and it’s coming fast—we’re t-minus 7 weeks. I like to think the hard part is over. My belongings are in storage, I’ve left behind the apartment that was my home I loved so dearly. I’m now in the in-between, the liminal. I know another home of my own awaits me next spring, but in the meantime I’ll be sharing and relying on the good graces of others. I think I’m going to learn a lot about home and what it means.

First stop on the trip is home—home is never ever the same and it will be different yet again. I just learned news that an old friend from there committed suicide the other day. We hadn’t spoken in some years, but he had recently followed my collage page on insta which I found very sweet that he did. My heart is now even heavier thinking of those who are still close with him. I’ve lost touch with a lot of people back home, not because I don’t love and want well for them, but because life moves us in different directions all of the time.

I find it ironic when I notice a book lying face up titled How Not to Kill Yourself by Clancy Martin. I ask my friend if I can read it while she’s away, thinking that the timing of it is uncanny and probably overdue. My uncle killed himself roughly a decade ago, I lost multiple friends in my early 20’s to overdose and suicide. I myself have struggled with wanting to continue living, especially when I was younger and wrought with addiction and self-loathing. In fact, I’m currently writing a novel with themes of suicide which I realize will need to take an unknown amount of time and care to finish, and much scrutiny if I’m the right person to do it. Nonetheless, suicide is something we should be talking about even if it’s scary and uncomfortable to do.

Lately I’ve also been feeling a certain pressure to do something “big” with my sabbatical. Ya know, write the book(s) I’m writing, focus and gain more of an audience through here, post on instagram all of the things I’m doing while away to show that I am really doing them. But as I sit inside this warm, cozy high rise, as I settle into the strangeness of my decision paired with the inherent grief of fall, I’m reminding myself over and over to resist turning my time away into a “thing” for mere consumption. It’s more than that, it’s less than that—it’s something in-between. I’m resisting making it into an eat,pray,love or to figure out some grand meaning I feel I’m missing now. Instead I want to use it to disappear, at least somewhat. I’m doing it, mostly, because I had a whim. And my whims have (so far) always left my heart more open and satiated; have left me feeling more part of this world.

I’ll confess though, I don’t recommend taking a sabbatical in fall/winter unless you’re able to keep your housing while you do. Preparing for something like I’m doing should happen in the summer when energy and spirit is high. I’m so grateful for my friends and family who are helping me bring my sabbatical to fruition, but it’s been a lot. If I could do it again I would’ve moved all my stuff into storage months ago so on moving day it was just my bed and my dresser. Then again, whatever … we’re not fully in control of seasons and timelines and whims and dates with destiny. We learn as we go. We do what we can. But moving forward, so long as I am graced with good circumstance, fall and winter are for nestling in, cutting back, and making soup—and that’s it!

This month I don’t have any answers or any advice. I’m just trying to be open like a barren valley in winter. Dead-ish yet quietly preparing for the burst of life that comes with the tide of spring. I’m calling this month “Decompose December”. I’m trying to get back to zero. Back to nothing but basics. My eating and addict habits have been on high as I navigated the overwhelm of moving and loss. Now it’s time to settle back down into my body and the proper ways I sustain it ie. whole foods/plant based, no phone before or after 9, tea instead of coffee, and little to no sugar. It’s simple really, which is why it’s so damn hard to actually do. I’m grateful this month in this new, beautiful space can be focused on resting, being with friends, making art and making soup. No more rushing around and stressing. I’m in slow-mode. I’m decomposing, which doesn’t require my active energy to do so, in fact it requires I do nothing. Have you tried doing nothing lately? Even next to nothing? It’s one of the hardest things in the world, I’ll never understand why.

There’s a quote by Khyentse Rinpoche that the author offers in the suicide book I’m reading. It’s in response to a remark a student made to Rinpoche. For now, I’ll leave you with this and be on my way:

Student: “Sometimes I feel terrible as if I’m stuck in a prison. It’s like being locked in a coffin sinking into the sea.”

Rinpoche: “Practically, you should just observe that. Really. Don’t do anything. Even if there’s a formula to counter this, some sort of solution, don’t use it. Just observe that. I know for beginners this may not satisfy you… Everything has to be fixed right away… But really, even that low feeling. Just watch. Please bank on this. It really is the most economical. It has no side effects at all. And there will be a lot of discovery. In about two months you will want that low feeling. You will become like a fisherman who is fishing in a river where there are not many fish. You will want that low feeling, so that you can catch it and feel gratified.”

Please take extra care of yourself and those closest to you. If you can, don’t do anything or at least not too much. Love you.