pursuing presence

if 2020 was the year we hemmed in the borders — of our travels, our social circles, the portions of our closet where the tight things loom — 2021 was the year we began to remember how to live. it’s been shaky, flooded with questions of do-I-know-how-to-do-this-anymore and do-I-still-like-this-shit-even trailed by every nebulous strain of free-floating existential dread, but in the rosy lens of reflection I’m reliving the moments I brushed against something else.⁣ 
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this was one of those moments, on a boat at sunset in santorini, the aegean-assyrtiko-affection trifecta coalescing into what our limited language tends to want to call perfection. but it wasn’t that; it was presence. I was awed, my inner voice quieted, the entirety of my being there and nowhere else. and it was glamorous, sure, but I’ve tapped into that same feeling across the table from dear friends and dancing in my living room. I think I’m finally getting that it’s always available.⁣ 
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I’ve spent a long time chasing being happy every day and then excoriating myself for coming up short. but all-the-time happiness is a fallacy, and I’m realizing not the thing to strive for; you need a frame of reference to appreciate joy for what it is. when I’m present, I’m not worried about whether I’m happy. I just am. that is its own liberation.⁣ 
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if this sounds mundane, I applaud you: you figured it out before I did (what’s your secret?!). if it resonates, wonderful. if it seems ridiculous, I get it; I’ve spent most of my life convinced more consistent presence was out of reach. ian’s been trying to convey this for the better part of a decade and something’s just settling now. is it the meditation, the exit from the hamster wheel, the burnout recovery, the psychedelics? who knows. you get there when you get there.⁣ 
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so. here’s to 2022, to us being. to feeling free, wherever we find it.