A speed bump in the road may slow you down, but it will not stop you going forward.
I’m writing this from the desk of yet another new apartment. For me, August brought a move, theft of my security deposit from my old landlords, I organized and hosted the largest event I’ve ever hosted, and unpacked into my new place only to repack for a two week trip to LA. I’ve opened this word document several times since August, staring at a blank page with a warm coffee in hand and my cat wrapped around my ankles. Now it’s the end of September. It’s been two months since I’ve been able to gather my thoughts and the time to write, and it’s moments like this when it feels like a mammoth task to begin again. This isn’t the first time life has made showing up to my commitments difficult, but this time around I’m more aware of the self judgment that came with it. I’d be lying if I said moving three times in 11 months (not including several month-long airbnb stays) hasn’t been a huge cause of overwhelm. It’s been a mission and a half to feel content with my living situations in Oaxaca, but the recurring lesson here is that nothing is ever perfect.Â
My mindful practice took a backseat in these months which was a set up for suffering since mindfulness and living are one and the same to me. During the first week of failing to make space for my usual mindful rituals, I loosened my grip on the ways I would show up. It’s laughable how many times I (read: we) have to learn the same lessons again and again through a different messenger. The human habit of forgetfulness gives mindfulness its purpose. In being less rigid in the ways I would show up I remembered that living mindfully is not rooted in a simple morning meditation, but in a series of choices.