Kia ora e te whānau – Meri Kirihimete me te Tau Hou!
I just wanted to reflect briefly on the weird little limbo period that comes between Christmas and the New Year. That week during which everything is closed – the city almost goes to sleep.
Personally, as I mentioned last month, I think that this is a beautiful thing – a time for everyone to catch their breath and recharge for the next year. If there’s one thing that I wish we learned from the barrage of Covid lockdowns experienced in 2020-2021, it’s that we don’t actually need to be constantly hurtling forward with perfect productivity. A lot of our jobs are – dare I say – not as essential as they seem. And those whose work is essential deserve our reverence. Whilst we may have immediately returned to the breakneck speed of modern life, the short limbo period we’re about to approach is the closest thing we have to a continuation of that understanding. It is an opportunity to slow down, and we should embrace that.
So, how do we make the most of this opportunity?
I am very much guilty of major productivity anxiety. If it weren’t obvious by my sprawling monthly blogs on this newsletter, I love to write – as well as indulge in various other creative guilty pleasures – so the moment that work is over, I’m immediately ploughing through as many personal projects as possible. Especially at this time of year, when I decide to overstuff myself with ambitious creative projects for all of my loved ones.
I think we all yearn for time off from work – a bit of a break – but the moment that any sense of busyness drops off, our brains panic. If you’re like me, you’re immediately searching for new projects in which to sink your time – until you are, once again, so busy that free time becomes an unattainable craving.
So I’m challenging both you, and myself, to use this limbo period as an experiment: an opportunity to resist that productivity drive and see what happens. Here are a few ideas on how to make that happen:
- Mindfulness I’m personally terrible at this – my mind is constantly racing with ideas and plans – but practising the discipline of simply ‘noticing’ the world around you: smells, colours, shapes, sounds, tastes etc., not only grows your appreciation for its simple beauty, but also grounds you like nothing else. I was recently made aware of quite how often in life it is that I am distracted. For example, I might go to the supermarket and spend the entire time with my mind elsewhere. Perhaps I have my headphones on, separating me further from where I am. When I return home, the only proof that I even went there are the bags of depressingly-priced food sitting upon the kitchen counter. I couldn’t tell you – not really – what was going on around me. When you try to go about life in a mindful manner – even for a few minutes at a time – it is incredible how much more you notice; how much more of the world around you is stored in your memory, how much richer your experiences become.
- Embracing the moment This is similar to the above. I am constantly thinking and planning ahead, so that I miss what’s going on in the here and now – I forget to appreciate my current position. Learning to focus on what’s beautiful right now is, however, far more fulfilling. My favourite way to do this is a technique I came across in Kurt Vonnegut’s book Timequake: simply reflecting on the moment at hand with the thought: ‘well, if this isn’t nice, what is?’
- GETTING OUT! It’s summer! (Kind of. New Plymouth does seem to be flagging a bit behind everywhere else on this front). Go for a walk, a swim, even just sit on a bench and watch the world go by. Our Lead Coach, Liz, has this well-touted philosophy of adventure, and has taken the time to put together a list of day-to-day adventures to try. Perhaps my favourite – or the one which has stuck in my head the most – is to stop somewhere you would usually rush past. I love to do this wherever I can, which often ends up being on my bike commutes: stopping to admire the way the clouds circled the full moon back when the mornings were dark; enjoying the stunning sunrise over the coastline on the walkway once things started getting lighter; watching the ducks do their thing, trailed by faithful fluffy ducklings once the mornings were beset by a fully risen sun; and, most recently, enjoying the decidedly random phenomenon of a pukeko standing atop someone’s garden fence. I very much regret not photographing this latter experience. Enjoy your temporary freedom (if you’re lucky enough to have it) and indulge in the world around you.
- Remember why you love your loved ones. Being around family can be frustrating – and my brain only seems to want to remember everything I adore about my whānau when we’re apart from each other. Forcing those fond recollections to the present moment, when you’re surrounded by those you love, is so very valuable. This might be simply thinking about what it means to them to experience your appreciation, and making that happen. It might be remembering how much you’ll miss them when you’re next apart – the attributes that you most treasure. When you start to get annoyed by them, it might be remembering how you’ve worked through these disagreements in the past, and deciding to approach this annoyance with kindness – seeing the inevitable imperfections of us as humans, how we tend to clash, taking a step back and seeing its probable triviality in the grand scheme of things; and having the courage simply to extend peace to them.
- Looking after yourself where you can. You may be working during this time, you may be stuck with family members who insist on dragging you down, you may be struggling and dependent on the services who are all helpfully shutting off for a few weeks, leaving you languishing. It’s all well and good doing the above things when you’re in a privileged position. But what to do if you’re not?
- If you’re working, acknowledge the service you’re providing during this time – and your selflessness and sacrifice in providing that. Take the time between shifts to treat yourself in whatever way you can – perhaps by doing the above-listed things, perhaps by indulging in your favourite food and movies. Take your extra hard work as an invitation to take the pressure off elsewhere.
- If you’re stuck with difficult whānau, escape where you can. Perhaps that might involve doing the above. Perhaps it means coming along to the St Joseph’s or Bach on Breakwater Christmas day lunch – perhaps it’s by rising above any pettiness and watching the drama around you as if a removed party, without any judgement – imagine you’re watching your favourite sitcom. Approach it with a sense of curiosity.
- If you’re feeling left behind by the exodus of services, do check out the list of available supports we’ve put together. There are a number of websites – including The Lowdown and Small Steps – which provide tools for you to work through on your own. Before the services you use go offline, seize this opportunity to prepare a list of things you can do which you know will help you: activities, techniques, friends you can contact, etc. Be realistic about what’s achievable, and make it easy to access when you know you’ll need it. You won’t be able to think of these things in the moment, so be prepared! Either have a good think by yourself, or enlist your support worker (or a Listening Ear at Waimanako) to help you out.
Within myself, my self finds recourse. Neglect myself, and to whom could I turn? So says the Dhammapada. As much as I enthusiastically endorse the beauty of community support, it is essential that we also learn how to spend time with ourselves. We often say at Waimanako that our peer support work is all about helping people to find the answers within themselves – because they know themselves best!
My best recommendation for this time, whatever your circumstances may be, would be that you try spending some time investigating yourself. What do you want? What do you value? How can you best honour yourself? Be curious. Your 2025 will be better for it, I promise.