from the mysterious pass
musings from the airport
Dear ones, I am writing from many weeks of quiet at the gate of a flight I probably won’t make— flying standby— and strangely calm about it. If any of you know me, you KNOW I am a meticulous travel planner who researches flights months ahead of time and arrives at the airport 4 hours in advance. But here we are, deciding to fly across the world last minute, letting some greater force organize our travels.
I find great relief in this. I am finding greater relief in the surrender, at a way of moving through the world that quite literally asks me to do nothing, or at least, much less. I know that it is very Piscean to make metaphor or meaning out of something like traveling standby, but I can’t help it, especially considering this is the first year I have had absolutely no desire to make New Years resolutions— just a cold ocean dip with two of my dearest loves.
There’s something wonderful about finding the turn of the year absolutely uneventful— I am not asking myself to be different or even asking myself to be better. I am, however, noticing the places I cling to outcome, or find rigidity instead of flow. For example, my opinion on the way laundry should be done. Whether or not there is bread in the house, or milk. Trying to fix a feeling of loneliness or grief.
There is great power in putting my hand over my heart and saying, oh, dear one, you make sense (taught to me by two of my teachers, J. and A.)
Even as I encounter rigidity, inflexibility, insistence on the way things should go— yes, those qualities arising in this difficult world make perfect sense.
I experience so much more magic and ease in my life when there is opening in the midst of a contracted state. When I notice loneliness, can I soften, and then just soften a little bit more, instead of fix?
There is a slowness and a gentleness that arises when I do not seek to solve.
In fact, I thought my word of the year would be ‘slow,’ but then I read this article about Patti Smith and her fast mind, and I realized that within the choosing of the word ‘slow’ was also a sneaky hope to fix myself— always jealous of the slow and calm, but forever finding myself hummingbird, darting this way and that. And I have sworn off self-fixing, replacing it with embracing, noticing, tending.
So, I am embracing frenetic discipline, screaming wild joy, messy grief— I am willing, at least for a while, to give up this forever search for calm. Maybe it’s already there, amidst the chaos.
Funny to be writing from this airport bustle, perched on blue plastic seating, entirely trusting the next few days to reveal themselves to me. Will I be in Japan, or will I not? Who knows! It makes me laugh. I will report back.
I am finding more wonder in the mystery, thinking of Patti Smith’s ability to make the mundane magical. I am thinking of artist Kim Krans words about how “home is right now.” And poet Shira Erlichman from a recent instagram post, “I am in this moment. I was never anywhere else.”
And then of course, for a healthy dose of humor, a parody article entitled, “woman living in the moment discovers it is unfortunately connected to other moments.”
Big sigh and a smile, with infinite love,
Raisa
PS— some news! Cross your fingers for me?
