Welcoming it all

...and three lessons I've learnt recently

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self-portrait while at Plum Village

Dear reader,

I am writing to you from a cosy little spot in the local library in Bryon Bay. I’ve been here for over a week now; absorbing the sun, my skin turning a golden brown. My hair is salty and sandy, and I’m grateful. I mentioned in my Process Letter how I had been experiencing many realisations while being here, which I want to share with you today.

The first few days I was here, my mind felt empty, like a blank slate (perhaps due to jet lag) but I welcomed it with open arms. I would sit on the beach, staring towards to sea, my mind a blank canvas. There was a sense of a rumbling within me…like the calm before the storm. Waiting for the moment when my thoughts would come tumbling down the mountain, uncontrollably. I knew there was a lot on my heart that needed to be processed, but I hadn’t created the space for it yet.

Like waves crashing on the ocean shore, they came thick and fast. It took a while to navigate what it was I was feeling. A mix of feeling homesick and longing for familiarity while I navigate travelling. It was interesting, to want something so much, to then have the thing, and yearn from the familiarity of home. I see it as duality, we can want and desire both things.

In today’s letter, I want to share what has felt alive within me these past couple of weeks. Navigating depression while being away in a magical place, and visiting friends is something I’m not used to. It’s made my feelings more stark than when I’m home. But, I’m honouring it; I’m a lot better at accepting myself in these moments than I used to be. In this space of being very reflective, here are three things I’ve been musing over since being here.

Winding pathways at dusk

1. I’m not rushing in the way I once was. I feel at ease with the unfurling of my life. In my early to mid-twenties, there was a profound sense of urgency in everything I did. I turned 27 last month, and I feel sure that honouring my slowness is the best course of action. I no longer want to run and leap into things without intention. Rather, I want to craft things slowly, let them percolate, let them seep into my bones. I have this sense of feeling more mature. I was walking today, and I suddenly felt older (not in a physical way, but in a way of feeling like I am getting to know myself more). I wonder if this is what it feels like to get older. One day you realise you are more mature than your past self, and it comes in waves, now and then.

2. I no longer want to measure my life and ‘success’ against other people and what they are doing. I've spent too many years constantly comparing myself to other people in my life or on the internet. This clarity comes from taking a step away from constantly consuming. It takes practice to notice when I am comparing myself to others. To notice the thought patterns and the spiral that follows. We are in a time of complete sensory and information overload, so it’s no wonder we feel a sense of lack or comparison. I’ve been writing every day in my journal since being here, and I’m seeing myself much more clearly — my wants, my needs, my desires.

3. No feeling is permanent. I have been moving through an overwhelming amount of feelings and emotions since being in Byron. Feelings I’m not quite sure I have processed yet. But, what is clear is that emotions and feelings are always in motion. The feelings I may have now, won’t always be there. Since being away, I have been tested emotionally. I’m in a vicious cycle of feeling sad about being sad. My body has felt heavy most days. I’ve not been energised or excited in the ways I want to be. The guilt of being around people when I’m feeling this way is very real. Despite this, I’ve been having daily moments of awe…for the natural world; for my capacity to sit with these emotions and still feel grateful; for the fact I’m even here and travelled so far. It’s complex, but I’m holding it all. The ability to hold it all with acceptance is what’s keeping me going through this time.

A bit of a different Monday newsletter; more personal and raw, but I’m glad to have captured and shared this snippet of myself and my experiences.

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We will be journeying together, tending to our creative gardens.

Hannah x