Lean in.
Lean in.
‘I'm not telling you to make the world better, because I don't think that progress is necessarily part of the package. I'm just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave's a fine and private place, but none I think there do embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that's what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it.’
- Joan Didion
I love topics that we can savour, draw out, sit with. Let’s dance.
Last month, we touched on the simple power of joy as a muscle. Let’s further unravel that metaphor.
Initial takeaway:
Coping exists in opposition to joy.
An elaboration:
The opposite of coping is joy, but not just that: it’s coming alive.
In developing our muscle to lean into life’s spectrum of moments, we deepen our ability to lean into joy - and vice-versa. (= why your girl is such an unabashed advocate of exploring joy!) Let’s dive into the beauty of this muscle.
~
What can we stretch out, whether in the moment or in retrospect?
A clear truth that emerges from challenging troughs, that bring sadness, grief, regret, etc.: They suck. Plain ‘n simple.
My senses shift during challenging moments - it might be a ring in my ear, or a sobering awareness of the world whooshing by me as I sit in discomfort. A hole forms around me and I may feel like I’m falling in.
Yet! And! These are not simply moments to avoid, deal with, or get out of the way. (No “face your fears“ or “it could be worse!” story coming up, promise.)
Challenging moments and feelings present us with a chance to remember how alive we are - even if just in how we remember these moments. I believe this so strongly.
As I look back on hard points in my privileged life, or moments of sadness, grief and anger when thinking about the world - some patterns in reflection emerge. Qs that come to mind:
Addressing the baby in me:
Did I remember to hold myself like the baby that I was/am, through it all?
Regardless of whether I did so in the moment: Can I hold myself in retrospect, and also acknowledge the same need for others going through similar (or differing) moments?
These questions build my muscle for compassion, and transform my capacity to stand still, react, and look around.
Connecting to the world: What connections with others did I find when seeking support?
How did the challenging nature of my experience remind me of how so much in this life is fragile?
What kinds of ever-present beauty might I choose to hold onto - as a means of support during a tough time, and also with renewed understanding because of these revelations about life’s fragility? (Loving relationships, the ability to heal…) Again, this can help us slow down, and pay attention.
Who might have been going through what I went through?
How does my experience open me up to an understanding of how the systems we operate within are fragile, and how I might not be alone?
What conversations can emerge from this awareness of my and others’ vulnerability - to understand how my pain is part of an interconnected fabric that runs farther than I can imagine, through troughs deeper than I’ve ever known? How might I feel less alone, knowing this?
How did all of these questions lead to meaningful conversations, that include and extend beyond my own experience?
Such deepened connections remain seared in my heart and head, forever. I feel a bit in awe.
Clarifying my Values: How did this moment help me clarify my own values? How did it clarify my resolve about a) what matters in this little life… and b) what kind of impact I’d like to make in this world?
As much as I want to protect my loved ones, the world, and myself from harm: Moments that throw us off course are perhaps the most clarifying moments of all.
~
These realizations give depth to my identity, and a wider scope. These realizations remind me that:
Life is fragile,
I am alive,
I am so deeply connected to the world, and
I am connected to myself.
These lessons help me cope amidst dark clouds, by finding paths to support from others and myself, through the (inevitable) suck. They let me make space for those who might be going through the same. Often, getting through these moments is the best we can do.
Yet, most importantly:
These lessons linger long after clouds pass, more strongly than any lessons about my ability to cope or endure.
Despite the ring in my ear, or the hole forming around me… or rather through these feelings - these reflections remind me of just how interconnected this life and world really are.
Isn’t that what we’re here to remember, at the end of it all?
~
Much <3,
Raha
PS: An optional prompt (as with most of my posts, for those curious):
Listen to the beautiful song below.
If comfortable doing so, reflect on: moments for connection that emerged from a darker trough in your life. Did these moments have the capacity to open you up to new worlds, even in the darkness of it all? (Be gentle with yourself - if this doesn’t feel comfortable, all good.)
How did these moments leave you changed, once those seasons passed?
PPS: Below, a trailer for a stunning movie that captures the beauty of leaning into life’s full spectrum of moments. It’s one of my favourite films ever. I want to return to this film soon.
PPPS: