Thursday, May 13, 2021

Lightening Strikes

Lighten-ing Strikes

This challenge is about adopting NothingWhatsoever as a Way of being, about looking at my possessions and entanglements and making surgical cuts to let go of what doesn't actively heal me. Typical decluttering has me looking at what to get rid of; lighten-ing has me justifying anything I decide to keep, from forks to gym memberships, jobs and relationships.

Top of the list are the Super Scary Storage Units. I have no idea what's in those boxes. Step one is to divide a space out for keeps even if I leave it in storage, and designate a section for donate for anything already sorted and not in the keep area. I mean really. I don't need anything in there except my birth certificate, a signed copy of a book by a friend, a notebook of my novel, and maybe that stash of amazing olive oil from a grove in southeastern Italy. Even the books for my dissertation are optional. Once I get enough stuff in the donation area, I can get help hauling it away. The storage units are on the other end of town and it feels like a Dreaded Quest to even think about going. I'm avoidant in the extreme about this. So, time in small chunks will be a dramatic improvement.

Also on the list are any and all bills. I haven't used my gym membership. I can either use it or scrap it. We'll see how often I actually leave the house once the paper is done. A thorough inventory of what I'm signed up for (seriously? I was paying for a subscription to I don't even remember that.) and then an evaluation of the list. Sounds simple when I put it like that, doesn't it?

NothingWhatsoever. I have a habit of signing up for everything that sounds great. And everything sounds great. I need less to do in my life as I heal from burnout, heal from injury, and heal from trauma. No new things, and a lightening of existing projects and commitments. I've already decided to take the summer off from classes, and this first week I resigned from an editing position. The disentanglement of that will take another week or so, mostly in the form of having them tell me who to send my work to and crafting a letter to my series editor and authors for a smooth (ish) handoff. There's an annual Writing Workshop that I usually attend that has a powerful magic for me. It's meeting virtually again this year (June 13-19, so zero week of next challenge). I'm not committing to going yet, even though it's only a month away. I have a feeling that a lot will be revealed during the eclipses (lunar May 26 and solar June 10). I'd like to make no new commitments until after that.

The elephant in the room is my relationship with my daughter. Nothing makes sense right now on this front, and it hasn't in years. At this point, if I'm being honest, my relationship with my daughter is a past thing. To have a relationship now would be to start something new. Her dad is clearly, violently opposed. I'm not certain I'm willing to take on a fight just to say I can. It certainly wouldn't be a relationship with my daughter, so what's the value?

I have two farm workdays scheduled, May 22 and June 5, at the farm that grows my food for the season (May-December). I like that these come right after the paper delivery and right after court. Hoeing onions or weighing lettuce are the perfect tasks for resetting my spirit and listening for inspiration. Even so, the weight of commitment is noticeable. I know there will be a million opportunities to sign up to help. I need to limit myself to these two. If I want more farm time, I can go to the garden up the mountain, my spiritual home.