23. what if it works
A strange thing has been happening over the past week with our correspondence.
As you know, the last few days Iāve written to you, Iāve been full of piss and vinegar (ew thatās actually such a gross expression when you type it), rage and complaints.
Two nights ago, I bemoaned my estranged inner wild woman and waxed poetic about how hungry I was for some kind of action. When I went to bed, the action found me, and climbed its way to some long awaited, desperately needed orgasms, followed by a massive oxytocin dump, shaky breaths, and uncontrollable tears (in a good way).
Last night, instead of being on our phones after dinner, we turned on the disco ball, fog machine, and strobe light in the living room (all courtesy of Brent, he has equipped our living room to serve a double function as a 1980ās-level discotheque) and danced to Color Me Badd. I watched my boys show each other their dance moves, and of course joined in as I did the dishes (as you may recall, so many fucking dishes), and found myself in one of those time-slows-down moments where the sweetness of the present just catches me and holds me in grace.
Iāve agonized over letting my kids have screen time, and questioned whether Tanner (8 now) would ever fall in love with books - as a bibliophile, it feels of paramount importance to me that my children get to know the unique, irreplaceable, exquisite rapture that is losing oneself in a book whilst having no other responsibilities in life. Just books and snacks, because itās the literal dream.
Yesterday, Tanner was nowhere to be found before dinner, and when we called out for him, he said he was busy. On further investigation, he was curled up on his bed, head down, nestled in a chapter book - the third of a set that he received for Christmas. Words fail to even come close to capturing the satisfaction this gave me.
Iāve been turning my phone off entirely at night, usually around 9pm, and not turning it back on until around 9am. Since I donāt have many apps, when my habitual scroll-hand has been going for itās mindless roam across my phone screen, itās pretty quickly gotten bored of checking my bank account, emails, and random internet searches (most recent: are chickens omnivores?) and I guess, because of the boredom, the possession is wearing off, and my hand is becoming just a hand again, no longer an instrument of the hivemind.
Since I donāt have social media to read, I started re-reading my old journals, smiling at where past āfuture self journalingā entries are marked up by future me with enthusiastic, celebratory addendums and footnotes - yes! OMG! This happened!
And between all of this, somehow, amidst my cranky, grumpy, frustrated, why-the-fuck-is-there-a-water-leak-in-my-house, overworked, underrested, post-holiday, Mars retrograde (That Little Fucker), myopic, navel-gazel, self-indulgent, unhinged rambling, itās been slowly dawning on meā¦
What if it works?
What if the aims Iām pursuing with this antisocial project actually unfold?
What if I do find myself more present, peaceful, passionate, playful, and connected with the ones I love most?
What if my creativity does start to flow with more ease, enthusiasm, energy, vibrancy and - gasp - maybe even FUN?
What if the process of eliminating constant distractions opens my ability to focus in a deeper way, and I feel more clear, grounded, and stable?
What if I find a way to be in communication that is actually nourishing to my spirit, and to the people I most want to relate with (thatās you, heyyyyy) -
What if - despite my doubt, grumbling, and occasionally morose attitude - Spirit was onto something, whispering to me about a year without a phone?
What if, from taking this little leap of faith, pathways of greater presence, pleasure, purpose, patience, connection, creativity and BEAUTY are already unfolding before me?
What if it works?
Iām always struck by this question, every time I return to it.
Because I spend so much time catastrophizing, thinking about the worst possible scenario, plotting and mapping all the ways things might not work, how it could go absolutely totally wrong, worrying about who Iāll be (or who my kids will be) with this choice or that choice, stressing about what will happen if it (whatever it is) doesnāt work that I often forget to ask myselfā¦
What magic will manifest in my life when it does?
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