Unsettling Back In

There’s that question again: “How have you settled back in?”.  It is a perfectly reasonable enquiry, polite and thoughtful, yet for so long I struggled to find an answer that sat comfortably with me.  It made me consider that I might not be at ease with the transition - have I found myself all at sea since returning to land?  Something wasn’t quite right and I needed to work out what it was about this question that conjured such a feeling of disquiet.

While there were many reasons we set out on our sailing adventure, one of the most important was to break out of the familiar rhythm of our lives and shock our senses with change.  In essence, it was to agitate and disturb, to unsettle ourselves.  And it worked.  We were regularly in unfamiliar territory with our wellbeing teetering precariously on the edge of our wits.  And we loved it.

I realised that my problem with this question was hiding in the word settle.  To me it implied I had come to rest, reached my lowest energy point; that was not where I wanted to be.  I needed to shake up the sediment of my life and watch it swirl around me then manage the fallout.  It’s not that life doesn’t throw all of us curve balls that we deal with as best we can.  Every person has their own story of difficulty thrust upon them and, on the whole, the resilience of the human spirit shines and inspires.  It makes sense that we seek to avoid disturbance, but when disruption and challenge is our choice, it takes on a whole new personality.

So, with a rapid pulse (equal parts excitement and nerves) I head to the mountains for my first solo camping trip.  While I’ll descend on my own into the Jamison Valley, I have with me for company my friends, Adventure, Challenge and Solitude.  They are coming along to push me in a direction I have never been before and to make sure that I am very happily unsettling back in.

SEW SUSTAINABLE

I have returned wanting to do thing differently.  I want to feel closer to my community, I want to choose happiness and share it too, and I want to be kinder to our planet.  This is my vision, but vision without action is merely a daydream, so it is time to start something.  I have an idea, and I’m hoping you will join me.  It’s a way of connecting, creating and caring for the environment all in one.  It’s an idea that has me smiling, so I’ll share it with you.

Ingredient 1 – Be Creative.  I crochet so I don’t kill people.  These are the words on a mug that was a present to a dear friend.  She took no offence from the gift, saw no questioning of her mental stability nor felt I was implying violent tendencies, because she too knows the truth about the emotionally healing benefits of creativity.  My friend and I have been known to sit together with yarn and cloth spread around us, stitching our way to a new achievement.  In a world where so much of what we do is just getting by, we manage to experience the joy of carving out time to do something that yields a positive, tangible outcome.  For a few hours, we check out of the roller coaster ride of deadlines and deliverables and let our world compress to focus on the task at hand.  We are wrapped in a warm blanket of mental calm through creativity.  Give it a go.

Ingredient 2 – Get Connected.  Creativity is a meditation of motion and productivity, and as my friend and I weave wool into beanies, we are also weaving conversation and connectedness.  I want to share that experience with more people, so I will be opening my home for people to join me.  There are no skill based prerequisites for this gathering, but a sharing of knowledge will be welcomed.  I am not very talented and my creations are flawed, however the process is wonderful.  I hope I can teach some people while learning from others, and along the way, build a community with no barriers to entry.

Ingredient 3 – Have a Cause.  I am responsible for a lot of the harm done to the environment.  By accepting responsibility, I am forced to take effective steps towards making amends. I have started reducing my consumption of single use plastics and at the same time diverting old clothes and material from landfill.  Last weekend I proudly took my home-made produce bags, formerly a t-shirt, to the supermarket to fill with fruit and vegetables.  It may seem small, saving just a few plastic bags, but I will do it again next week, and the week after, and people will see what I’m doing and maybe think about making changes themselves.

Method: Boomerang Bags www.boomerangbags.org  The first step is to build a community (that’s you!), then we gather unused material (sheets, clothes, anything suitable for a bag), next we make bags (don’t be intimidated by this step – we will do it together) and finally we put the bags to use in the wider community.  Simple!

What do you think?  Will you join me? 

FINDING HOME

The Dolphin and I were in Fiji, paddling our kayak around the island where we were anchored.  As we floated along on the shimmering blue water with thousands of bright fish swirling below and rounded the tip of the island, my girl noticed a small, crooked shack perched upon the headland.  The Dolphin looked on it thoughtfully and stated what was an absolute truth to her, “Isn’t that house precarious!”  Hearing those words, I exhaled, and with that breath a fear left me that had been locked away for many months.  The Dolphin was not living in a state of agitation and apprehension after being wrenched from the life she knew, comfortable within the walls of our suburban home, stable and securely connected to the earth, never moving and the world around it remaining the same.  Our life of transience and uncertainty on QuickStar had become her home and its galvanized steel link tether connecting us to a new piece of earth every few days was not a reason for concern.  The certainty that home provides, I realised, does not come from solid, tangible foundations, but from the constancy of being with the people who love you and the certainty that you can depend on them.  Home is not a place, it is people, and the Dolphin’s people were on QuickStar, so in there lies all the stability she needs.

This weekend we transfer ourselves from the gentle rock of QuickStar to the solidity of bricks and earth.  People keep telling me how exciting that is and how relieved I must be about it, pointing out the comforts that await us.  I can’t deny that an upright fridge and a push button flush toilet will have a positive impact upon my daily life, but beyond that and being reunited with our dog, I struggle to see the upside.  Rather there is a heavy feeling of being encumbered with many things I have learned to live without and in doing so discovered they do not bring me happiness.  My heart is still heavily rooted in our floating home, so I need to work out what it is about QuickStar that makes it a home that we love.

Tomorrow we start in the garage, where a year ago I packed away the contents of our house and a year later I have not missed a single item. The clutter of our possessions creates a confusion of priorities and hides what we truly need.  The more things I have, the less time is mine, so I need to be brutal and eliminate the unnecessary, allowing the necessary to rise up.  I am hopefully better equipped to do this than when the initial sorting took place, now that I am learning to not fear the absence of what I don’t have.  Reducing the objects in our house will make space for more time with the people in it, time to create a home.

To maintain this, I need to stop wanting more.  I admit, consumption has often been a short term analgesic to the stresses of the modern world.  It is a quick fix and readily available antidote, but the effects usually wear off quickly and the aftertaste can be bitter.  I’m sure the suitcases in the garage are full of clothes and other objects that were bought as band aids.  So I need to focus on my real sources of happiness, follow that path and remember I can’t be happy if I’m always thinking about the next thing. 

Perhaps that feeling holding me back from rushing into our land house, which is yet to earn the title of home again, is the self-doubt that I will be able to go on living with less.  I am worried that in moments of weakness shelves will be stacked to the brim and cupboards overloaded.  Knowing what I really need is a good place to start.  I want to continue on this journey of life with just enough baggage so I can focus on what matters and let go of the rest.  I am ready to fill our house with the time and space for people, to let the security of our presence and happiness turn it into a home.

Help, please

Why do people find asking for help so terrifying? In part, it’s the implied message that lies beneath the simple words that we find damaging to our self-image:  Will people see me as being needy, a burden, less capable?  Sharing the truth about something we can’t quite manage on our own makes us feel exposed and vulnerable.  There is also the fear of rejection and the fear of imposing ourselves on others.  On the surface, it seems simpler to struggle on and not ask for help.

No matter how shaky the credibility of these impediments is, they are what we are conditioned to feel when asking for help.  But the underlying cause is our separation from one another, and this individualism is not necessarily what we want as humans.  Feeling a connection and closeness to others increases our sense of wellbeing as we become a part of something beyond ourselves. 

Asking for help strengthens the relatedness we have with others, tying us more closely to individuals and the community.  Asking for help, getting help, offering help, and giving it when it's needed are all ways that we connect and stay connected with each other as human beings. That connection is precious and it's worth a lot more than any pride we may have in not needing it.  So, ask for help.

I have returned with a new perspective on many things.  We want to simplify our lives and asking for help makes things easier, especially while we are still living on QuickStar in a very soggy Sydney.  Thank you to those people who have answered my call for a shower, a load of washing and especially the use of their clothes dryers.  I could have made it by without your help, but your generosity and enthusiasm to open your homes has simplified things, making me happier.  Hopefully you know you can turn to me too.

And I don’t want this to come to an end when we settle on land.  Beware my neighbours, when I am baking and find myself two eggs short of a frittata, you will hear my knock.  I expect the same from you too.  Our street is a wonderful place to build community and making the effort to reach out to people around us helps strengthen these bonds.  Our door will be open to you all.

So give it a go.  Make someone else feel good by helping you and give them permission to come back to you later when they have a need.  Build connections and feel the difference.  Practise asking for help with little things, because there may come a time when the request is bigger and harder, but the need so much greater that you can’t afford to not be helped.