Upstream swim

Exiting the concert, I caught a glimpse of a young woman making her way back towards the seats. Like a salmon swimming upstream, she navigated the river of people, all eager to get to the parking garage and join the next stream, car after car headed out the mouth of the multi-level concrete maze. The young woman reminded me a time of life when I felt like I was constantly efforting, going against the flow. Much of my exertion was an attempt to control people, situations, outcomes. 

At a recent dinner party while engaging in a conversation with the guest to my right, I found myself asking big questions about what brings them joy, how did they live with meaning, and more. It was a bit much for casual dinner party conversation, I admit. I just really wanted to know how someone else thought about these questions.

This interaction reminded me of my old pattern of efforting. My first clue? The urgency, my insistence of wanting an answer to questions that are personal, nuanced, and evolving, from someone else. If I want to be demanding and rigorous with my curiosity then I need to start with me. 

The answers to life’s big questions are nuanced, changing circumstances shift perspectives, and experience provides new information to be considered. Someone else’s answers are not going to be the ‘right’ answers. The only correct response comes from within me.

Discarded tires assembled in a vertically mounted to wall, part of a show at the National Gallery, Washington, D.C.

Chakaia Booker, It’s So Hard to Be Green, 2000

Checking in with myself on a daily basis through journaling is the simplest and most effective way I have found to stay curious and connected to what matters most to me. Being interested in other people’s stories can provide suggestions and examples. This is true. 

Living someone else’s journey or answers, ultimately feels like swimming upstream.

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How many times have you read Moby Dick?

My walks with Maisie covered the same ground at least once a day if not multiple times a day, and I am still noticing new things or observing more closely the things I thought I knew. The same can happen when we revisit a book, a painting, a piece of music, or even attend a weekly meeting with the same people. Staying curious in the familiar may yield the biggest surprises.

There is a ghost in my closet

From a very early age I was drawn to clothing and other adornments. I loved going through my grandmothers’ closets and jewelry drawers, examining each piece and occasionally trying things on. While neither grandmother owned anything very fancy or costly, I never got tired of combing through the treasure trove of their dressers and closets. 

The Story You’re still Writing

The Story You’re still Writing

The Story You're still Writing No matter how broken, lost, or uncertain life may feel, your story is not finished. In this episode, we talk about healing, growth, identity, and the quiet power of choosing to keep going-even when life doesn't look the way you imagined....