Hello hello,
I’m home. I’m writing this on MY blue couch in MY home. Joey is next to me, chewing on a bone I gave her this morning. Soft light is flowing in through various windows, crows are crowing outside, chatting up the sunset. All of these details feel commonplace and exceedingly special at the same time.
These are the little pieces that make this space a home.
I spent the past 6 days in Chicago visiting family. Each time I visit it feels different. I don’t go as often as I’d like to, so it’s ends up being a pinpoint in a specific era in my life. Last time I visited was in 2019 with my newish boyfriend, as we danced around saying “I love you.” This time we stayed at his mom’s place and he met my cousins, uncles, aunts and the matriarch.
In 2019 I had JUST left my restaurant job, this time I returned with a freelance lifestyle, dashing out work after everyone fell asleep and in between gatherings. While my grandmother’s still asking me how I’m making money and I don’t have a solid answer, I feel solid giving an ambiguous explanation. It’s all up in the air but I’m glad I’ve gotten things off the ground.
What I want to tell her is, things aren’t always easy. I’m taking the risks and hoping that the work will pay off, in whatever form that may take.
When I call to let her know I landed I want to say, I had a layover in Dallas and felt so overwhelmed with anxiety I had to step to the side of the terminal so that tears could roll down my cheeks and into my mask. Thankfully, I don’t always experience this but when it hits, it hits.
I want to say, sometimes it arises when things are going well. I got a new writing assignment and have a couple other things coming in hot that all felt like they needed my attention. Rather than try to push the anxiety away, I gave myself a chance to look at its presence. The worries stemmed from putting off an email, not having the space and time for all that I need to do.
I want to assure her that I sent the email before getting on the plane and felt more calm on the second leg.
I’d say, choosing a life of self-employment means you put out work consistently, seeing progress and feedback every so often and giving your all, all of the time.
She’d ask, is this tiresome?
And I’d say, not really, because I fully believe in and enjoy what I’m doing. And, there are always little guide posts that affirm the direction of the steps I’m taking.
Baby synchronicities chime in, or unexpected trinkets from friends. I hold these as reminders that the universe is an abundant place. There is always a way to align or tangible treasure to be provided. When I’m in the groove, I don’t seek out signs, they’re presented in a casual sweet way. It feels like a video game, when the coins pop up and you get to fetch them with a click-click of the controller. It’s through practiced awareness that I’m able to see the daily gifts in front of my face.
She’d ask me to elaborate and I would, keeping tabs on the universe gives me the opportunity to tap into presence, opening up a wide world of beauty that might be missed by busy eyes. Through a focused lens, the universe is everywhere at all moments. In a waterfall of bougainvillea or a stoplight reflected across a glass building. In the little details that make up a home.
Moment by moment we can evaluate emotions and reframe thoughts as needed.
There is magic in the web of it, I’d say. That’s one of my guiding principles.
And she’d laugh and tell me she knows that’s a Shakespeare quote.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to provide a more concrete answer, but for now this one will do. My hope is that she can sense the full bodied belief I have in the energy of this era. She can sense that people like you tune in every week to commune around the modern day bonfire that is Substack.
The number of people who gather around this particular bonfire has grown to over 1,000.
I don’t check the numbers often because that’s not heathy, but I saw that it ticked over to 1,003 while I was in Chicago. Another pinpoint in time.
I started this project thinking, if I could have 50 people subscribe and read this thing, it’ll be worth it. Four months in and it’s far surpassed my initial expectations. I feel really surprised and grateful.
Thank you to each of you who has invited me into your inbox two (sometimes three) times a week.
I should have explained this all to my grandma, but I was feeling shy.
Maybe next time I’ll find the words.
If you want to hear more about my trip to Chicago and an extended discussion between me and Gabi on all things family, visit the latest episode of our podcast, Illusion Pod.
Available on Apple, Spotify and everywhere in between.
See you next time.
xx
James
If you find yourself struck by a moment of complete presence, send it to me in either image or word form: momentsfornow@gmail.com.
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