elemental, issue #05
on restarting
Hello!
It’s been a while since I’ve found you in your inbox. I hope you’re “well”, whatever “well” may look like for you.
It’s been several months of changes for me; mostly invisible to the outer eye, but quite significantly felt and seen internally, by me.
You will notice that the structure for elemental has changed this time around. I’ve realized that one of the reasons why I’ve found it challenging to keep up with a regular practice of writing is because the initial structure I’ve set up for myself has become more limiting than enabling. And as a Capricorn sun, Virgo moon and rising, I didn’t think it would be appropriate (although I’m not entirely sure that “appropriate” is the best word here) to change the layout I had set up for myself and publicly committed to (how highly must I have been thinking of myself…).
Over the last couple of months, however, I have been experiencing (at different scales and magnitudes) the joys of breaking my own rules, of asking “what if” and truly pondering the answers as potential realities, of changing my own mind, of checking in with myself and seeing what is and is not working.
Albeit a small step for humanity, I’ve noticed (in what has been a big step for myself) that the original layout I had set up for myself here no longer works for me. So I decided to change it.
The newsletter is still called elemental. I will still be thinking about and reflecting on the cyclicality of themes, ideas, feelings, and beyond as I choose the weekly themes, but much less rigidly so.
Speaking of themes, this first issue is about changing one’s own mind; about breaking down the Jenga stack and starting out again by building a new foundation. It’s about taking a break and coming “back to it.” It’s about restarting; sometimes right where you left off, sometimes from Level 1, and sometimes on a track so completely different that you can’t even compare levels of complexity.
I hope you enjoy.
I don’t recall where I first read this, but I remember a suggestion that instead of making the 30 Under 30 or 40 Under 40 lists, Forbes should make a “60 Above 60” (or “70 Above 70”). Said differently, we should not only celebrate and put on a pedestal the people who have accomplished significant milestones in their careers at an early age, but also (and perhaps more importantly), celebrate those who have had the courage to start again or keep going or perhaps pivot after an age when it’s generally considered “too late” for anyone to do anything worthwhile or different in their careers. While it’s most certainly noteworthy to have accomplished so much in period of 25 or 27 years, I think it’s equally (if not more) commendable to have had the courage, energy and drive to start again after what most would consider to be a stopping point.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about aging (I’m trying hard not to sound dramatic here) because ever since turning 32 back in December, I’ve been noticing significant changes in my body and mind. One such change that has quietly crept up on me and one whose arrival I have welcomed with open arms has been giving way fewer fucks about what anyone else may have to think about the decisions I make about my own life. In tandem, I have been celebrating a newfound joy in being able to step away from and let go of things that no longer feel right or in service of ‘the long-term vision’, even though I may not know what lies beyond the letting go.
This, I know, is most certainly easier said than done, but not entirely so. And I believe it most certainly is something that comes with age and the experience of having lived more years on this earth. The more unpleasant or unexpectedly undesirable (albeit not catastrophic or traumatic) such experiences have been, the more resilience, self-awareness and growth they tend to offer. But, as with many things in life, “the day you plant the seed is not the day you eat the fruit,” so, for most of us, the joy of realizing we have a lowered tolerance for bullshit (from ourselves or others); of being ok with sitting with the unknown, because we can trust that it holds something better for us than the certainty of mediocrity, generally comes weeks, months, or even years after the unpleasantness itself.
I’m currently at one such “turning point” in my life at the moment, but it feels less like a turning point than a similar life experience would feel even just a year ago (I know, because I’ve been there). In her book You Could Make This Place Beautiful, Maggie Smith writes: “Things we call life-changing are and aren’t.”
I think internalizing this phrase is the shift itself.
Truly understanding that whatever you decide, whatever happens, life goes on. It’s all part of the story, there’s room for all of it; we can hold, learn from, celebrate or mourn a decision or a life event and still keep going. Or pause, step back, go under the covers, and then keep going. And the “keeping going” can be different the second (or third or fourth) time around. Where there was running, now there may be a slow prance. Where there was a single, very specific destination in mind, now there may be none. And it’s all ok and it’s still a way of “keeping going.”
So, I guess that’s that. All goes to say, I’m figuring things out. I don’t have most of the answers, but I think I have enough questions to keep me curious. I feel a bit nervous (and the nerves tend to get more dominant in the evenings) about the uncertainty of not knowing, but the satisfaction of knowing I’m moving away from conditions that viscerally feel ill-fitting and closer to questions whose answers I know will ultimately bring joy and serve as cause to celebrate, helps me be ok with putting up with the nerves.
If any of this resonates, please drop a line, say hi, and tell me what you’re up to. I would love to hear from you.
PS: I made this playlist a couple of days ago and listened to it as I wrote this issue. It makes me feel at ease and held and at home. In case you’d like to give it a listen :)