There's a gap in the monthly delivery of my newsletter between October 2022 and Feb 2023.
I can only attribute this to a feeling in which I’m currently entrenched: one of being completely overwhelmed by the holidays!
Even in my mostly-curated-out-of-medical-necessity existence, where every Joule(J) of energy is accounted for, I still find my self taken out by the number and frequency of good tidings this string-of-months brings.
The travel, the parties, the gift buying, the card making, the decorating, the socializing with friends who are only in town once a year, the traditions, the rituals, the hosting, the MANIA!
It's no wonder my first entry upon returning in February was about desperately trying to discover a process to return to my creative work.
But, this year, this year I am determined to know this time of year for what it is: a time for reaching outwards. A time for nurturing community. A time for stepping out of my narrow mind and my narrow world and surrender to the wave of witnessing and being witnessed.
I'm no Scrooge. I love the lights and the carols and the gift exchange and the peppermint and the ball drops and the Auld Lang Syne’s..but I am in need of a new way to look at the hustle and bustle and crowds and obligations and noise that come with the near-constant duty of merriment.
I chose three motivations to concentrate on and conjure whenever the overwhelms begin to seep in: The Very Ordinary. Impermanence. And Death.
It is an amusing coincidence the acronym of these motivations is VOID. So, this holiday, I will concentrate on the VOID.
The Very Ordinary
In defiance of the artificial urgency of a holiday 'schedule', I will bask in the task at hand and lose myself in the details for as long as I desire.
The smell of scotch tape, the wild reflection of lights, the sitcom of family dynamics, even the cold drafts whipping against my cheeks can be wondrous and full of awe.
Ordinary moments will be my church.
Impermanence
People move. They split up. They break their leg. They convert religions. They denounce religions. They move into a condo uptown.
I can remember that everything changes all the time and regard people and places as if for the last time.
This excerpt by Andrew Anabi will carry me:
"When life changes, you will probably miss the way it was. You may miss those long morning drives or walks to the office, or those hectic family gatherings. You may miss them because those moments are finite — you will only travel those streets and see those people a certain amount of times.
Every time you do something that is one less time you do it. One day you will do something the final time and you will rarely know when that day comes.
For all you know, today might be the last time you walk in a particular neighborhood. Or it might be the last time you smile at a particular someone. To think otherwise, would be foolish. Nothing is guaranteed, except this moment. Your only real choice is to cherish every exchange like it is your last — because it very well might be.
Therefore, the best way to cherish life is to remind yourself of life's impermanence. It is to remember that every time you see someone that is one less time you see them. It is to remember that every time you go somewhere that is one less time you visit. By doing this, you naturally slow down. Almost like a reflex, you start to truly live."
Source: How to Cherish Life
Death
There is a mindfulness idea that I've always loved about 'keeping death on your shoulder' as it reminds us of the preciousness of life. I thought it came from Confucius, but upon researching, I found that what he had to say about life and death was even better:
“We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we only have one.”
Esteemed psychologist Beth Pickens, author Make Your Art No Matter What and Your Art Will Save Your Life (AND my personal artistic counselor and reason this newsletter even exists!) advocates for developing a death acceptance practice in order to reflect on who one wants to be and how one would like to spend their time.
She says, “Remembering my mortality gives me the needed motivation to make change, hold everything more lightly, and have compassion for myself and other people. I am less confounded by and anxious about time on the days that I consciously remember that I will die one day.”
credit: Holding Space art shop in Kingston, NY
The mundane is sacred. People and places will change. You and everyone you know will die. Remembering the VOID can be generally just a good way to move through life, but especially for those times when you need extra motivation to keep up the engaging in an engaging life.
Enjoy the mayhem while you can!
VOIDing with you always,
Abigail
Thanks for reading along with me this year! It would mean the world for you to take that noble step of becoming a paid subscriber.
i love the idea of a death acceptance practice. also, i have a puggle, too, and your card makes me so happy.
Who's chopping all the onions in here?