Escape Vs. Enrich

Last August, I started a new job and on my first day, I drew a tropical scene on my new whiteboard. A giant palm tree on the beach and a little boat leading to a structure in the distant water with a straw thatched roof. It was a reminder of where I actually wanted to be instead of in a cubicle in Chicago. Little did I know that 8 months later, I would get to see it in person. 

I had just left an unfulfilling job and taken a weeklong staycation in an effort to unwind and relax. I quickly realized that I had no idea how to relax or take it easy. I couldn't stop my heart from racing from anxiety that there wasn't enough money or time, that I should be doing more, being more, that I was not enough. I wasn't able to sit still or be with myself. After an exhausting week of trying to do nothing, there I was, back in an office, hidden from the sunny days I craved so much. New company, new desk, new people. I feared it would be more or less the same as my last job. Thankfully, it isn't.

As I've deepened my meditation practice over the past 6 weeks, life has gotten easier. I've learned how to sail with the highs and lows of life, and put into practice remaining equanimous.

"Is this really happening? Is this real life?" I've found myself saying these words countless times over the past few months and even more during this past weekend in paradise. I was in awe that I was in a picturesque Caribbean scene with white beaches and glittering turquoise water for the first time in my life. Leafy green palm trees that waved in the breeze. Serene blues, greens and whites- just like my bedroom in Chicago. 

Returning from a weekend in paradise, I noticed that I have not been struck by the post-vacation blues. I did not spend the entire weekend filled with anxiety, feeling like I had to soak up as much fun and relaxation as possible and dreading my return to reality like I normally do while on vacation. This vacation wasn't an escape from reality. It was reality. I have finally learned how to live in the moment.

Be Still

I sat alone at my dining table that is technically an ikea desk, facing the third floor view of rooftops and treetops, and ate dinner in silence. It sounds like a sad scene but it's one of the most profound moments I've had recently. Initially, there was silence. Then... I started to hear the sounds outside floating in through the open window. The warm spring breeze rustling the young leaves in old trees. The whoosh of the occasional car on the next block, fast wheels on pavement, piercing the air. The distant grumble of the train nearly a mile away. Airplane engines, transporting people with their own lives and agendas, to their destination at O'Hare. Occasional human voices. Chattering of the squirrels. Bird chirps and wing flutters as they played. Suddenly the ticking clock behind me sounded deafeningly loud. I brought my awareness into my body. The feel of the air drifting in the window and past my arms as it filled the room. I could feel my blood pumping. Slow and nearly imperceptible. The light outside had faded so gradually and suddenly that I didn't realize until I looked around and noticed I was sitting in darkness. 

I took another moment to appreciate the stillness and silence. There was no music playing, no tv show on in the background, and it allowed me to notice how much was going on around me.  

The theme of these past couple weeks has been "Be still." I have a tendency to fill all my waking moments with plans to distract myself when things get hard, but I've been consciously choosing to do less. I've been sitting with a lot of uncomfortable feelings coming up around unworthiness, jealousy, and judgement. Working through them has paved a path of gratitude for where I am in life. There are a few big trips coming up in the next month that I am looking forward to, but this awe and gratitude for life is found in the day to day, mundane moments, like eating dinner.