how does a body measure time?
settling into new rhythms and honoring new capacities.
I've been moving slower than my body is used to for the last 5 weeks. Some days are more favorable than others, but every day, I learn something new about where my body is now compared to where it has been in the past. Coming to terms with a new reality about intentionality and embodiment. I thought that being in my body would make me feel better immediately, but right now I've been accepting my truth that the initial two weeks of rest I planned post-resignation is not sufficient. I thought I would surely be ready to dive into all of my ideas and sidequests by the start of 2025. Fast forward to almost 31 days into the year, and my body is only currently starting to get the memo that we are in a new time and space. Right now, embodiment means feeling all the ways in which I may have pushed myself past my physical threshold. All of the rest I did not allow myself to experience because everything felt urgent. The balance of school, work, and personal life left me inaccessible to myself, unable to know how much felt like too much. Now embodiment feels like honoring my threshold the first time, and opting in for rest even when it feels like I haven't done anything. Rest is the most important thing. Assessing who I have been urgent for, and what I have been pledging my urgency to. Matters that only seem to take, never pour into.
Yet, and still, the way I've been sitting with time and space is unlike any other in my life. Examining who am I when I'm not moving by the calendar or the clock? Do I still value my day when I'm not waking up at 7 am and committing an hour to morning pages? What do days feel like when I release myself from the structures of moving or mirroring the 8-hour work day? How can I measure my worth if not by how much I've marked off my list of things to do? I work in increments of 2-3 hours, and then I'm tired again, feeling guilty about the amount of rest it requires of me to feel like I can get through the day. Then I bring myself back to the grounding point of "What are you rushing for?" In truth, there is nothing urgent that occurs in my daily life that should require me to move without regard to my capacity., and every day, I'm learning not to let myself feel guilty because I'm living in a moment I would always pray for as I would sit in my office running through emails, chats, and answering phones. My body is no longer a site for urgency. I have reclaimed it.
Now that the veil of urgency is removed, I see how my relationship to everything differs. My desk no longer feels like a "workspace", but a holding place for me even when I do not have the energy to "work". Somewhere to return to at my own pace. It's not just for writing but for thinking, dreaming, reading, and crying, and I have cried. My desk is now a hub; for once, I get to determine how it will be used. My journals are no longer solely places for release but keepers of the mundane and transformative. Planners are tiny rooms of memories, spaces for gratitude and remembering the little joys or how I fed myself for the day, and moved my body. The date becomes markers of where my physical body is sitting, even when my mind is dreaming of a new future, or nurturing memories of the past. My phone becomes a distraction, even when it is well-meaning. With all of the knowledge in the palm of my hand, it still becomes a habit to scroll to soothe despite knowing how quickly my nervous system will search for chaos, and then I remind myself that stillness and boredom is what I prayed for. I have room to breathe and I will do just that. My body is not a site for urgency. I reclaim it.
As I navigate this new space, learning what this version of me needs, and where my capacity begins and ends, I am rethinking how I want to show up in my work. Focusing more on the things that bring me life, and generate creative energy. Taking it slow. Reassessing what a creatively sustainable life looks like for me in this season. Asking myself how can I honor my desire to share, while also moving at a pace which honors my mind, body, and spirit. I'm hoping to transition from Substack and into a more permanent space on the internet, but as you know things take time, and right now I'm honoring my turtle speed. The Journeying will still be a thing, even after the transition, but I have also crafted a Patreon to share with supporters more frequently and informally. If you're interested in more of the journey outside of social media, please become a member! Everything is open to all members, and I don't plan on paywalling just yet. In this space, I'll share more reflections, creative ideas, journal prompts, meditations, recipes, love letters, field notes, etc. In the coming months, I'll have a more permanent space for all of me to exist, and you'll be able to find all of my offerings in one central space.
More than anything, I thank you for allowing me into your inbox and onto your screen. As an independent creative who is figuring it out as I go, it's been a complex journey, but I always find comfort in sharing my thoughts and adding to the archive while also offering words that someone else may need to hear as well. I wish you much love and all the joy your life can stand, plus overflow, in 2025. May you be happy and peaceful.
love + care,
ty 🌀