My mind feels like a pot brimming with thoughts, brewing for hours as I go about my day, then too heavy to lift and pour into this space when I get home and slump into the armchair. Too many to put into action, at the moment, when I feel tired after work. A snapshot of the pot contents:
Start fermenting things: sauerkraut, beetroot kvass, kimchi. Pot on some of the herbs on the windowsill. Sow more seeds indoors and out. Clear the outdoor bed of weeds and cover in compost. Start collecting food waste in the kitchen for composting. Draw more. Write about all this. Bake bread. Acquire mushroom spawn and start growing mushrooms at work. Make a plan for growing herbs and salad at work. Test new recipes. Meet a friend for coffee. Go swimming. Meditate. Make a planting plan for my former wwoof hosts, Greyhound Brewery. Write letters.
These are the things I daydream about doing, as I wash up, as I walk home, as I stir soup. Still, I think I am learning to prioritise and thus most of these seeds remain unsprouted (and in the case of the gardening plans, quite literally unsown). The most important thing I need to do at the moment is work out how to rest, and how to lose the guilt that slips like a shadow stuck to the heels of these ‘things to do’, a shadow that grows darker when they aren’t done.
I need to rest because I’m working 40 hours a week, at my new job, which I love, and which takes concentration and effort as I make new routines and learn how to get things right. I need to rest because my mind still fizzles with a hum that comes from making a home in a different country, where there are new sights and sounds on the morning walk, where my brain tries to unscramble the language constantly, where I am making new connections with new people, where I don’t know where to find toothpicks in the supermarket. It strikes me, writing this, that actually I need to learn that I don’t have to justify my need for rest.
However, I’m trying to pull this thought from the pot and share it – that learning how to be at peace with resting feels like the greatest task of all. To be at ease with yourself when you are not doing something that makes you feel useful, successful, or beautiful means to find fulfillment within your own being and not from external sources. Which is helpful when everything outside you crashes to the ground, as I have known before and think I will know again sometime.
Recently, in a low mood, I had the vision of a bottomless hole, a black hole into which a jug of water pours, but never fills. The spiritual equivalent of ‘in one ear and out the other’. This image comes closest to making sense, for myself, the importance of working towards (living towards, being towards) finding peace in myself. Because everything else is fleeting, and I’m so tired of being tossed on stormy seas, being elated then despondent then joyful then miserable.
So this week, under Johann’s suggestion, I have tried to prioritise rest, in whatever form that takes. And wonderfully, it’s kind of great finding a real, day to day, way of tackling the ‘how to find peace’ question. Whenever these exciting, creative, action thoughts have bubbled up in the evenings, I have tried to choose what feels like ‘rest’ over action, which for me means reading and yoga over everything else. In a confusing way writing this blog does not count as rest so I am currently not obeying my own guidelines. On the other hand, I am feeling much less guilty than usual about that, so I’m doing something right. Oh, what a minefield.
This is all big people stuff that I am in no way trying to present myself as an authority on. Nothing here is original gems of wisdom from yours truly. For genuine gems, I have found Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now to be most eye opening book on the matter of learning how to be. And I learn a lot from talking to Johann who is the real sage. Yoga shows me a path out of despair, and so many other patchwork pieces of experience have led me to this point. Rather, I present my credentials as human being who struggles but sees there is another way. In talking about my journey, narcissistic and utterly pointless though it sometimes seems, I hope maybe another person would find something that helped them on their own journey.
On a side note: I so often think of big problems in the world in contrast to my ‘struggle’ and I feel immense privilege and, yes, a great big anvil of guilt, that I have a warm home, food and safety, yet I often feel so despondent. Many people are struggling for warmth, food and safety, and don’t have the ability to launch into a navel-gazing, inner peace-finding experiment. Then I try to hold on to the idea that to transform the world, you have to transform yourself first. I think that’s not worded very well, and the change I want for myself is not an adding but a sloughing away of unnecessary habits, thought, action, and a radical return. But that’s the essence, and it’s my lived experience, from being in Calais, that without re-finding the peace that is in all of us, I am not able to work towards peace outside of myself either.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. I hope something resonated somewhere, for someone. The photo at the top is of lava cooled into rock, in the Rift Valley, where two tectonic plates meet. Hot flow in the tempest finding stillness.