Transiting

It’s been almost a year since I’ve committed to finishing a piece. If you count the scattered moments I spent fervently jotting down notes on my iPhone while in transit, the number of hours I’ve accumulated writing over the past year can be counted on one hand.

I neglected this practice of mine in favor of, what I frequently described to my friends as, living aggressively in the present. I was undergoing a series of transitions — the end of a good relationship and the search for a new job due to an increasing dissatisfaction with my pre-existing one — and was having trouble grappling with what it meant to live fully in my adulthood, unmoored by any sort of predefined life milestone on the horizon. The past felt dangerous and tender, whereas the future was akin to a dizzying, unrelenting spin.

What I was left with was the present — an interminable state of transition and becoming. The salve to heavy mornings, heartache, and uncertainty was movement. I reached towards newness manifested through hobbies, friendships, and travel plans. I fell into a rhythm of seeing the same people and became less hesitant of initiating plans. I gained stable footing in my new job eventually and found the confidence to rely on my gut more.

I knew at some point I’d return to writing, but it wasn’t until a week ago when I decided to begin again. It wasn’t even until yesterday, after unexpected conversations with people who rigorously pursue their passions, that I re-gave myself the permission to be less afraid of my own writing and to unabashedly pursue my own creative endeavors. And it wasn’t until today, after a stranger asked me to read aloud a poem to him and consequently being carried away in the rhythm of someone else’s words spoken aloud, did I feel a sense of urgency to find my own rhythm and commit to finishing this piece today in all its aching roughness.

Writing often involves submerging deeper into yourself and I no longer am so afraid of sitting still. Maybe movement and stillness are not so different after all.