The space between adventures
Join me as I stumble my way through Brianna Wiest's The Pivot Year. She'll bring the wisdom; I'll bring the commentary, the scepticism, and the occasional existential wobble.
The Pivot Year - Day 8
I am spectacularly bad at slowing down. I can sit down, obviously - I have managed to master chairs. But mentally, I am usually three countries ahead, planning the next adventure while the current one is still trying to get its coat on.
I think we have become so accustomed to movement that stillness feels suspicious, that relaxation becomes redundant. We scroll past our own lives looking for the next interesting thing - the next place, person. The hopeless search for the next version of ourselves who will, presumably, have better hair, a beach body in just four weeks, and finally understand pensions (we’re getting there, Michael - suffering financial advisor).
But time, life is spacious. But we still insist on sprinting through it as though someone is quietly stacking the chairs from behind us. Perhaps we need time to process, to adjust, to see, rather than simply look. Maybe we need to allow an experience to fully become part of us before we rush off in search of the next.
There is a strange arrogance in believing every moment must be improved upon - some things don’t need a sequel; some days should remain small. Some happinesses arrive without fireworks, sit beside you quietly, and wait to see if you notice.
Slowly, I am learning that a full life is not necessarily one crammed to the edges, and perhaps the real adventure for me is staying still long enough to realise I’m already inside one.
Photo and poem of the day
I have spent whole lives hurrying towards tomorrow, while today stood barefoot, holding out its hands. There were miracles I mistook for intermissions, small infinities I crossed without learning their names. I wonder now, if life was never asking me to arrive, maybe only notice I was here.
Love
CJ