Clearing a Patch
April 04, 2025
Each morning this week I’ve commenced to work on this newsletter, reminded myself of the topic, and thought, “Ugh. I don’t want to write this.”
For last week’s post I made several lists, the final one under the heading “What I’m working on.” Other names and descriptive terms for that list could include goals, intentions, course corrections, wishes … and the reason I’ve recoiled from it this week is that the writing I want — and don’t want — to do is to zoom in on that list, to examine each item and report on how it’s going. Short answer: not well.
This tendency of mine to set intentions and redirections and then to ignore them in my daily life isn’t new; it’s been my pattern for years. As I reviewed the years of my last decade I noticed that my goals for improving myself and my life have been consistent.
Every fall, around the time of the Jewish High Holidays, I go through a new year’s journaling on certain questions, including, “How would you like to improve yourself and your life next year?” My answers always are along these lines:
solving the time-scarcity problem
balancing my priorities of work, study, creativity, health/wellness, and relationships
stress less, rest more, set boundaries
really believe that I am enough, that I don’t have to justify my existence
finish decluttering my things so that I have only the things I need and love
Last fall I wrote, “I need to go into deep reflection on what it means to be a ‘Good Person.’ Also I want to figure out how to make and use a google spreadsheet and relearn how to crochet, knit, or both.” Then I quoted Elizabeth Gilbert:
You have to stop doing things you want to do so you can do the thing you most want to do. — Elizabeth Gilbert
There’s a conflict in my stated ideals: “many priorities” that need “balancing” vs. “set boundaries,” and “decluttering my things” vs. “relearn how to crochet, knit, or both” (activities that involve more things).
I think this is related to what Becca Rowan calls “the messy middle.” Becca is entering her 70th year (one year behind me!) and in her Field Note today writes about “beauty and order on one side, disarray and deterioration on the other” side of the road of life, which she illustrates with two sides of an actual road.
I can see my own “messy middle” in the list of things I’m working on.
Living with greater simplicity and presence
I don’t remember when I discovered the minimalism influencers; it was during the early days of the 2020 pandemic, or maybe even before that. I joined Courtney Carver’s online community, The Simplicity Space, when she started it in August 2020.
My second-ever blog post, published on my website June 18, 2021,* was about the advice I was reading on simplifying my life by scaling back my activities and goals — advice I then was and still am failing to follow. (The year at the top of that post is incorrect; it should be 2021. The date is an automatic field and I have to re-figure out how to correct it.)
But there’s a bright side, which is, as Becca Rowan describes it, “a deep sense of the wholeness of things that is a gift of elderhood.” Let’s just acknowledge that adopting a puppy is not consistent with simplifying one’s life. However, it does effectively force me to drop many of the other complicating activities.
Rebuilding my meditation practice
Starting at least 15 years ago, I meditated for 20 minutes every morning. Even during my crazy-busy year as a grad school student and PreK teacher, I reduced that daily time by only 5 minutes, then resumed the 20-minute practice when that year ended.
Meditation had started to fall apart for me even before we got the puppy, then crashed after he arrived last December. Now, if I pause at all for ten minutes, it’s a nap.
Yet, I agree with what JFT Beach 🏊 🧘♂️ wrote in a recent Substack note:
I’ll admit it: when I’m spiraling, meditation feels pointless. Like, what’s five minutes of breathing supposed to do when your life feels so crappy?
Answer: A LOT.
Five minutes in the car, in my shed, or on the beach—just following my breath—never fails to soften my brain’s misery loop.
It doesn’t solve everything, but it clears just enough headspace to remind me that I’m not the hot mess my thoughts want me to believe.
I’ve learned that it’s not about stopping the spiral—it’s about giving yourself a break in the middle of it. Letting things be messy, and still finding a little pocket of peace.
Accepting that puppy care and management is a full-time job
I’m both accepting this and not. I accept giving up many important things I used to do, but not with equanimity, a word that comes from the Latin aequo animo, meaning “with even mind.”
The bright side is that as Tjikko grows and matures my work changes, in ways that can be surprisingly enjoyable as well as intensely annoying, and often both on the same 30-minute walk. His training is starting to stick, and now he will sit on command and stay seated, even in the exciting presence of people. On the other hand, he loves to play while walking, picking up a stick to carry but then dropping down to chew it, whereas I would rather keep moving forward. But this helps me with the next item on my list …
Giving up on control
This is so hard for me. I sincerely hope I don’t try to control other people, though some who are close to me might doubt that. I do hyper-focus on controlling certain things in my physical environment. Like, I will literally pick up tiny specks of dirt from the floor, bits of fuzz and even hairs on a rug. (Yes, I probably could get an OCD diagnosis.) Luckily, my areas of obsession are limited. I wipe kitchen counters endlessly (and dry them), but allow the dust inside cupboards to accumulate for years.
Living with Tjikko is good therapy for control issues. I no longer obsess (much) about hair — there’s dog hair everywhere. And I enjoy the daily mental challenges to judge which few household areas or rugs to protect from his developmental needs to explore, play, and especially chew. Of course I do whatever is necessary to keep him away from electric wires and other dangers. Behaviors that only make me crazy, such as chewing apart the fibers of a corner of my office rug, I generally tolerate. Bright side: knowing that I have the power to choose to be driven crazy, or not.
Making more time for my music practice
So far, I’ve made little progress on this one. Practicing my instruments is an important part of my identity, so I remind myself that the end of puppyhood is approaching, however distant, and then some daily time will open up again. A tiny step I can take now is to carve out of the mess of competing priorities 15 minutes each morning, when I have my best energy, for music.
Resisting commitments and obligations
I stand in the “messy middle” of this one every day. I often fail my test for taking on a new commitment: Would I say yes to this thing if I had to do it tomorrow? Although I’ve practiced and improved my skills for saying no, to myself as well as others, I can’t always find my way between the world’s messy needs and my own needs for expansive time to myself.
The bright side is that, as my primary commitment to tending my relationships with family and friends grows stronger, it feels easier and more rewarding to drop at least some of my own plans.
Going to bed on time
Just as soon as I publish this post!
Tjikko with his corner of the rug, and exploring his backyard
