Confronting Limits
One of the things that I have fallen in love with, is following various different calendars - the seasons, the moons, the fiscal year, the calendar year, and yes, to some extent, the witch's year. The various calendars let me reduce the pressure of following any one schedule and restart different aspects of my life at different times of the year. To mark Halloween, the turning of the year for witchy and gothic folk, I did a tarot pull and have been musing on it for the past week - in particular the card for "what have I had to let go of this year" - where I pulled the 10 of Wands.
The illustration of the card is often a figure bent over, carrying far too many wooden rods - evoking overwhelming burdens. Wands are frequently associated with passions and inspiration, so the idea of being overwhelmed by passions to a burdensome degree. All of which rings loudly true for me, especially this year.
In the last year, I lost a two resources I had relied on for awhile: a teacher and the bullet journal community. The first was a relationship fracture that jarred my sense of who I was, and I was honestly lost for a few weeks as I found my own voice. The second was the institution of a paywall I just couldn't climb over, even after explaining the financial reality of living with disabilities that prevent me from working. This time, I was more sure of myself, I had a bone-deep sense of how the community's values had shifted, and accessibility was no longer a consideration. I still grieved though - I had gone through training to become a "certified" bullet journal instructor, which was a helpful dream that helped me navigate out of academia and traditional employment. In losing these, I had to actually stand on my own instead of outsourcing my values and intuitive processes. It was a brutal summer for that.
On a more subtle level, this year has been about facing the very real limitations that ME/CFS has on my passions. In previous years, I have cut out trying to find a traditional job that could deal with my illness, I stopped going to grocery stores, limited my appointments based on what I can walk to within 15 minutes, and said no to many social gatherings where people don't mask. Now, even with all of that cut away, I was still getting tired. My curious brain wants to read all of the books on tarot and astrology, tidying, neurodivergence, and whatever else I come across, but trying to juggle all of my curiosities means that I don't actually have much energy to give each one. Instead, each of my passions gets a few minutes here and there, but not enough to learn much.
In fits and starts, I have narrowed down my activities. I am in the process of trying to winnow down my knitting projects - to have only 1-3 at a time. I stopped updating my "To Read List" with anything but the most relevant books. I regularly ponder whether I should pack away my sewing machine. I am trying to show up in fewer places, but really show up when I can. Even though I didn't make it to an intensive tarot class, I am still planning on studying the recordings and giving those lessons time and space to really sink in, instead of hurrying off to the next thing.
That's the thing, even in slowing down, there is still so much here. It is easier on my physical and mental bodies because ideas and emotions have time to simmer, distill, and digest. Emotionally, I am still having a lot of feelings. Sometimes I am grateful that I finally get a chance to move through life slowly (ME/CFS being a mandate I can throw at people who suggest I do otherwise). Other times I am full of rage and sorrow because I feel trapped in my house while the rest of the world marches on. A big thing that comes up is shame though. The idea that I am somehow a less worthy person because I am not working, not using my body as I was raised and expected to.
I expected to break my body and my mind for a paycheck, that is what I went to school for. Now though, I get this weird gift of time. Time where I can't do much more than lie down and let thoughts simmer - bounce around in the background of my mind, where they sometimes bump into other thoughts to cause different realizations or understandings. I can't bury myself in work or hobbies, so instead, I actually have to face my reality. Every time I think I find myself a new thing to hide behind or in (a new hobby, a potential work path, a new topic to do deep dive research on), it eventually bumps into my limited energy, and I have to take a long pause. The pauses help digest things, but that just feeds my curiosity, so I want to learn more. Instead, these pauses turn into musing -- an exercise in sitting and just accepting that I won't know, that I don't have the resources, or that there is not answer.
I have to face that I have limited resources, but instead of making me miserly, I just relish them more. It is like being trapped inside for a week and then finally stepping outside and feeling the wind on my face - a full body experience I am keenly aware of so as to not miss a thing.
Being is a lot, all on it's own. It is worth a lifetime and a moment.
My invitation to you is to sit with yourself in this moment, are there things you can or have to drop/end to make space for you to just breathe?
If that doesn't feel accessible, can you close your eyes and feel your breath in your belly? Please hear this as I tell myself: You are enough, all on your own. This moment is worth noticing, and I am here to notice it. That is enough.
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