Creating Space for Life
I booked a solo trip to think about the meaning of life and my place in it.
I’m writing to you from a cabin in the middle of the woods outside of a town called Bovina and I am dreaming about what it would be like to call this place my home.
The cabin is surrounded by trees and acres of state land. There’s a small outhouse with a compost toilet and a foot pump sink for washing, cleaning, and drinking. I’ve been here for a few days and I haven’t done much other than read, watch movies, and bop around all of the small towns in a 15 mile radius around me. My meals have been simple but luxurious – a quick and easy spring asparagus carbonara for dinner and a sweet potato hash for breakfast. I wake up easily before 7, climb down the ladder of the lofted bed, and turn on the single burner to heat water for coffee.
A life like this calls out to me.
I romanticize the simplicity of knowing everyone in town, using what you have instead of always having access to more, and being so connected to the rhythm of nature.
I originally booked this solo weekend as a way to mediate the burnout of city life I have been experiencing but quickly realized that it created a pocket of time for me to reflect on what really matters.
As I approach my 26th birthday, like any other indication of the passing of time, I am plagued with the big questions about life:
Who am I? What am I doing here? What is the point of it all?
If you’re new here, you’ll quickly learn that I am no stranger to these questions. More than half of the words I string together end up with question marks. I am curious and introspective by nature but just because I ask the questions, doesn’t mean I am always able to hear the answers.
Before this trip, I didn’t realize how loud my life had become. I didn’t realize how packed my schedule felt, how tight time felt, and how tired I’d become from constantly running towards the next thing.
No matter how much I meditated or journaled or tried to take time for myself, the life I live is loud. I am constantly taking in noise – physical noise from the sounds of the city, information from the media I consume each day, energetic noise from the friends and strangers alike who pass through my life each day. My life is loud. It is vibrant and expansive and abundant in a way that I wouldn’t trade for the world but can you blame me if I needed a break?
In my days away, I haven’t been doing anything special or really much different than my normal day to day. I wake up, journal, and make a cup of coffee. Then I’ll walk, or practice yoga, or read a few chapters of my book. The routine is nothing special – it consists of the same exact ingredients but it feels so much different.
I’ve noticed that when I go through my normal, day to day life, I am constantly rushing to the next thing. I never felt caught up with my to-do list or able to move through my daily tasks without some awareness with time.
And yet, when I’m here in a cabin in the middle of the woods, I feel like I have all the time in the world.
I have a brief awareness that the general store closes at noon, so I should get there before then if I want to grab that breakfast sandwich everyone has been raving about. I look at the time and notice when the sun is going to set but I don’t feel like I am shoving things into my day to try and get them done. I simply do the task and I move on. I take a breath to look up at the clouds passing by or listen for any animals that may be lurking around. I stop and look around and my surroundings and for the first time in a long time, feel free.
No matter how hard I try when I’m at home in the city, it is nearly impossible for me to feel spacious within my day. My day to day often consists of work which consists of deadlines and meetings and events. I do the meditation and journaling and try my hardest to set boundaries with my time and yet, time chases me. It controls me and my entire life.
If I have the same 24 hours in a day no matter where I am in the world, why does time feel so much more spacious when I’m away from my everyday life?
The answer isn’t clear but probably lies in the boundaries that I have with my time (and the hours I waste spend online). It was refreshing to spend four days so completely immersed in my life. I wasn’t worried about missing an email or not responding to a text. I didn’t think about the tasks on my to-do list waiting for me when I returned home. I simply focused on the thing in front of me. Whether that was a delicious meal, or the breeze on my face, or exploring a new town. I didn’t think too much about how much time I was spending or where I would head to next. I let go, settled into the present, and moved on when it was time to go.
Just as the rain does not hesitate before it decides it is done, I let myself fully be in the moment before moving onto the next.
It’s funny that one of my biggest takeaways from the weekend is the basis of meditation and yet, I barely meditated for longer than 10 minutes at a time in the past four days. I took many pauses throughout my day, to breathe or admire or soak in my surroundings but I found it difficult to sit for longer periods of time. Well, maybe not difficult, I just didn’t want to. I wanted to run through the fields and watch movies all afternoon and talk to locals in bars. I wanted to do what I wanted to do without asking permission. I wanted to trust in my practice – trust in the fact that sometimes five minutes of meditation is all I need.
I turn 26 on Friday and I wonder if this will finally be the year that truly, deeply, fully give myself permission to live the life that I want to live. Or, better yet, to realize that I never needed to ask permission. Co-star tells me as I head into this next year, to tell myself, “This is my life, this is where I’m supposed to be.” It says to “follow your whims to their ends” and that, my friend, feels like a beautiful place to end this chapter and move onto the next.
And for all of you wondering if I answered the big questions about what really matters in life, I decided that the answer can (and will) change each day. What matters for this chapter of my life is the community I am building, relationships I am tending to, and exploring the potential of my art, work, and vocation. For now, right here is good enough. I could dream about the different potentials of life or I could choose to be content with the life I am living. In this moment what matters is writing to you and that feels like the sweetest, most intimate gift that I could possibly place my attention on.
What matters to you as you are reading these words?
Over the weekend, I watched four movies: The Greatest Hits, All of Us Strangers, Theater Camp, and Perfect Days.
I read one book (it’s thiqqqqqqqq): House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Mass
I ate some delicious food including a tasting menu at Brushland Eating House, a $4 BEC at Russel’s General Store (all they post on FB is their soup of the day and I love it), a stuffed hashbrown that was…not what I expected at Phoenicia Diner.
I went to three bookstores: The Golden Notebook in Woodstock, The Lost Bookshop in Delhi, and Diamond Hollow in Andes.
I thought I would write more, but I didn’t. And that’s alright.
I also thought I would get some crazy insight into what I’m meant to do for the rest of my life but my soul was like lol Nikki chill, you need to relax. So relax I did.
I guess if I really think about it, I did realize that the thing I’m meant to do for the rest of me life is be present and stop believing the illusion that things need to be different for them to be better (!!!)
Anyways ~ I’m off to celebrate my birthday for the foreseeable future. If you would like to treat me to a lil something special, you can do so here 🤭🥳
What a refreshing read. Warmest welcome to 26 and happiest birthday to you!
"More than half of the words I string together end up with question marks." I see you, living in the wonder of it all. xo