Drifting and resurfacing: Getting back on track after we lose our way

I’ve not been doing what I think I should. Instead of composing much of intentional significance, I’ve been stuttering on loose pages and darting between the projects towards which my attention has been forcibly inclined, owing to the inescapable demands of life and work.

November has passed in a dusty whirlwind, with only a smattering of glimmers; the noticings, happenings and feelings that elevate the heartmind out of the quagmire and to the wide open view beyond the contracted state of tension.

It's no wonder, though with some remorse, that in the moments between - trapped in what Patti Smith perfectly describes as a state of “restless fatigue” - I’ve been feeding my curiosity and dissatisfaction like a hungry ghost, not getting quite the sustenance I truly need but nonetheless, keeping the momentum kind of going. Reading all the books, listening to all the music and podcasts, wandering and wondering.

If there’s one thing I know for sure, and which this month has reminded me, it’s that I don’t do well in gaps of snatched time. I need, long for and thrive creatively when I have space, unhurried and unhindered by looming pressures, demands or time-driven commitments, workwise or socially.

In between the deadlines that drive the other side of my life as a jobbing writer, and the deadlines I give myself for the sake of focus, I need room to breathe.

If there’s another thing I know, it’s that there are a few key things that will return me to more of a flow than a sputter of a momentum, if I keep at them. Because even when in a sludgy funk as of late, I have a set of non-negotiables that preserve my sanity and embolden, even if perfunctorily, my rightful impulse to resist the tug of external winds. In this way, I’m glad to be on the cusp of December with a renewed sense of intentional attention - aided by the easing up of said projects, and the gift of more time and space.