confinement training
as I hear about other cities de-confining themselves, the feeling of summer slowly approaching, and the end of my Japanese visa coming in just five weeks — I’ve been reflecting on how this time is like a training. a training in solitude, in stillness, in the necessities of living. what do we truly need to live? what’s making us happy and unhappy, and can we reduce interaction with the sources of unhappiness? or is it all a futile attempt for control? can we be more clear about what can we control, and what we cannot control?
do we secretly wish to be confined for a while longer — another three months? six? or should we join a monastic life, instead? will things go back to normal, and all of our gains slowly disappear and revert to the “old” way of being? or have we engrained a new definition of “normal”?
in a world which we cannot control anything that happens outside, I’ve found it to be immense training in self control — I am far more deliberate about what I do with my energy, and the moment to moment quality of my inner life inside this library-house. there is no energy spent on negotiating outside-inside worlds, in bridging the gap in between, and this feels good to me.
some practices which have trained me during this time —
the freedom from too many options
too many choices can be so paralyzing. should I visit this place or that place, see this person or that person today. do this or that. no. my day has become very much the same — structurally — and this rhythm allows me to find so much richness within. can I create this for myself, on a daily basis?
the joy of no fomo
as an extreme introvert, I have very little social fomo. but, I do have cultural fomo. as in, I feel like I have not “seen” a city or a place if I don’t go out everyday to experience the atmosphere, the people, the cultural things. I am always afraid of being in my own bubble. but now, I don’t feel such a need to intentionally break the bubble. I will let this bubble drift where it will. and I can make it more porous.
the sacredness of psychic inner space
I always knew this, but now I have put it into practice. eight hours of digital solitude, no social media, barely any internet, barely any email. no social obligations I’m not in the mood for. it’s like the lobby of my mind is finally cleared of people. for a good half of my waking life, I am alone. and this feels like the right balance.
the bliss of living surrounded by nature
I thought cities were my thing. it came with this cultural fomo — a desire to be deeply engrained and to experience fully — a people’s way of life. but now I’m finding such spaciousness and simplicity in the countryside. there is a way of life here, too, that is not found in cities.
the relinquishing of addictions
addictions to — dancing tango, being embraced, emotional intimacy with men, going to cafes to work, consuming nice things, social media, validation in general — apparently, it was not so much of an addiction after all. or I have just easily relinquished all of it, and filled my life with more.
the letting go of control
I booked my flight to Japan two days before leaving Paris. it was a practice in surrender — to fate — and it felt so good to trust that where I land is where I’m meant to be. here, the ultimate training is focusing on what I can control (the quality of my mind, what I do with my day, my hour, my moment, the art I create, the things I write, how I care for myself, what I eat, how I sleep) — rather than the things I cannot control (the outside world, circumstances, other people). and to totally surrender is a daily training. it feels good.