The Ebb and Flow

My favorite author, Mari Andrew, once wrote about a phrase that changed my view on life: “Ripe fruit falls quickly.”

In aiming to understand why her strongest writing happens in just a couple of minutes, why she instantly clicks with certain people, or why she suddenly makes big decisions without second guessing them, she explains that “the preparation and work has already been done: the fruit is ready, and right on time.”

On this same topic, Mari writes:

“When I take walks, text friends, sit in my garden, go on trips, ride the subway, it doesn’t feel like I’m DOING much, but that’s part of the growing season. The harvest comes almost always when you least expect it, but the ideas are prime to be picked.

I always feel panicky during those periods of growth, when I feel like nothing is happening, I’m not being ‘productive,’ I feel lacking in any number of ways, I’m bored, I’m busy, I can’t keep a morning routine to save my damn life, I have nothing to say about my work or love life or new chapters or interesting anything.

I thought for sure I didn’t have a single creative idea pass through my head the entirety of 2020, but I couldn’t have known that ideas were just taking their time to grow and ripen… now falling like October apples.

I think about moments when I felt really lonely in the world, longing for deep connection, not knowing that my soul was actively preparing me for spectacular kinship with people who were preparing for me too.

I remember so many times when there was too much fog in front of me to consider the next step, only to realize one morning that the haze was completely gone and nothing could be more clear than the path in front of me. What seemed like a sudden decision was actually months in progress.

Ripe fruit falls quickly, and right on time.”

The first time I read this, I remember feeling so seen. Those time periods happen to me too Mari!!!! I started to reflect deeply into my past. From what I can remember, life roughly follows a loose pattern of happening, and then not happening as much. I thought about time periods where I found it harder to be happy, motivated, or self-loving, only to be followed by time periods where I felt on top of the world. In contrast, I thought about time periods where I felt like I finally had my whole life figured out, which were then followed by time periods of confusion and discomfort.

Whenever I’m feeling frustrated in areas of my life, I like to remember this universal truth: “You can have it all, just not all at once.” Sometimes I like to categorize my life with a visual of test tubes laid out on a table. Each test tube, filled with water of different colors, represents a different area of my life. Romance, friendship, health, financial stability, energy levels, routine, family memories, creativity, laughter, rest, presence of nature, etc. For example, for most of my year in Australia, my test tubes were filled to the brim in categories like laughter, presence of nature, creativity, friendship, and romance. Yet, I was seriously lacking in financial stability, family memories, rest, and routine. In the past few months since being home, I’ve been able to focus my energy on re-filling these lacking test tubes, only to notice the other ones slowly lowering water levels. No category is necessarily better than the next, yet long periods of imbalance can cause dissatisfaction or stagnancy. Managing the water levels of each test tube is important in living a balanced life, yet one must also carry the knowledge that all tubes will never be full at once.

Another one of my favorite authors, Madeleine Dore, uses an analogy of a sponge to make sense of this feeling. She writes:

“There will be times in our lives when we put our ambitions on hold, our creative projects aside, certain relationships on pause. Such times can stretch across days, seasons, even years.

Because it can feel like nothing really happens in these periods, we can be quick to judge ourselves within them.

Yet such times are crucial for absorbing things. In my book, I talk about how we are like sponges— we need time to soak in the inspiration, ask questions, and let life in so that we have something to squeeze.

It can be difficult to remember this in the swirl of it all. How can we trust that the flow will come when we are in the ebb? And when do such periods go from being necessary rest and replenishment to feeling, well, kinda soggy and filled with inertia?

I can identify when I’m in a cycle of inertia because when I ask myself what brings me alive, I feel really far away from my answer. By contrast, when I’m in an absorb phase, rest itself feels enlivening— there is a peacefulness and letting in. It feels like a stroll on the sunny side of the street for the soul.

Whether I’m in the ebb or the flow, my goal is to stay connected to the feeling of aliveness. Lately, in place of asking myself what I need to do, I’ve started asking myself, ‘what feels most alive right now?’— and then I do that.

I’ve been hard on myself lately. With so much external change, it’s no wonder I feel exhausted, confused, and sensitive. After a whole year of being in a constant flow state, it seems reasonable that this transition period would feel startling. My fruit must ripen again. My sponge must absorb.

We must learn to appreciate these time periods, where things are happening in the background. We are not yet aware of the ways our daily efforts will add up. Or the habits we are slowly forming. Or the growth that is happening within us. Day by day, we become closer and closer to the next season where things might make a little more sense.

So, whether you are currently filling up your sponge, or currently living in the squeeze, just remember:

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”

— Zora Neale Hurston

Thank you for reading xxxxxx