How Do You Land When a New Day Carries You Into the Unknown?
On nurturing our innate adaptability and sitting with the uncomfortable until it becomes comfortable again.
Hi!
How are you this week? How do you land when a new day carries you into the unknown?
Yesterday morning, as I finished my sitting meditation practice, I began cleaning up the house, preparing it for a new day to unfold.
The sun was still shy and hadn’t entered through the window just yet. Its rays briefly licked the porch, saying a quick hello. Soon after they got enveloped in the shade brought by the wind swaying the branches of a tall tree standing in front of our small house.
It was calm, warm, and good. The kind of feeling you might recall if you think of holding a freshly baked loaf of bread. Its modest, oval form inadvertently offering a sense of assurance and safety.
I smiled to myself, and, I suppose to the tree, the wind, and the sun as well. For a moment I wondered what was it that had changed in me. What was it that lent me its hand of peace and a rather stable sense of joy? It’s still new to me, after years of depression. Still surprising.
How do I manage to maintain it as every new day carries me into the unknown? And I’m not even trying to hold onto this peace and this joy consciously, which is against everything I had learned about making things last. Maybe that’s why they stayed? Because I didn’t clench them too much – to the point where they felt uncomfortable and thus compelled to run? Maybe I don’t need to keep achieving them — just allow them?
I stayed with that thought for a few more moments.
And then I remembered how I made it my aspiration, a few years back, to become more adaptable, less rigid in my ways, fluid like the wild thin stream cutting through the fields nearby my family home, and just steady and trusting, and open — to life, and to myself. I thought that it seems unnatural to be rigid, and that humans are made to be adaptable and flexible. I didn’t know how, but I wanted to return to this innate state.
The sun was slowly becoming more courageous and playful, hopping in and out through the window, dancing on the kitchen floor. Things felt good, right. But even now, as I write this, with a strong storm that came at night before the sun had a chance to rise, pushing waves of rain against the window to my left, things still feel good and right.
That makes me realize I had, indeed, become more adaptable than I used to be. And that’s what makes me feel like I am holding a warm loaf of bread against my chest — warm and reassuring.
Trying to backtrack the steps that led me here, I also recognised I am able to highlight the subtle actions and slow evolutions that occurred since I planted that intention in my heart.
I rarely create detailed action plans; rather, I hold a clear intention firmly in my being, trying my best to listen to it when it chooses to speak, and then follow wherever it wants to lead. I guess one could then say my plan is flexibility, commitment, and trust.
For me, intentions pave the path and choose the method. Whatever results from them is hardly my doing; I merely follow their quiet instruction.
Before we continue, let’s take a short tea break. Writing this, I am drinking green tea with roasted rice I had bought in Poland before leaving to Portugal. The tea set I’m using was recommended to me by one of the readers ❤️.
The ease of adaptability, although still a work in progress, brings me great comfort and a sense of safety. It helps me to welcome life as it unfolds and to respect its natural course. It also encourages me to remain trusting and patient when things are temporarily uprooted, knowing they can, and will, bloom again from more fertile soil.
So, I thought I’d share with you the actions and practices that help me nourish this adaptability within myself. Perhaps you are, too, seeking a sense of greater peace or steadiness in your life, yet wish to remain flexible and open to change.
I believe such a state cannot be achieved against the continuous current of changes, but rather in careful alignment and close agreement with it.
Here are some of the practices I found helpful in parting with my rigid ways, attachments and fixed ideas, replacing them with open-mindedness and an open and trusting heart.
I chose five to keep it short. However, if of interest to you, I could perhaps write more on this topic in future letters. Do let me know!
Practicing adaptability
1. Ongoing downsizing and redefining of my idea of comfort.
To enable me to live comfortably and joyfully with less, adapting to my current circumstances.
Through striving to keep the total number of my possessions low, I noticed I’ve become more relaxed in everyday life (less visual clutter and mental burden — more mental space), and it is becoming easier and easier to pack and go travelling or move.
I’m also trying to detach my sense of confidence, worth, and sentimentality from physical possessions, which, of course, also makes it easier to approach changes with a more open and free mind. My goal is to be content and comfortable with whatever much or little I have at any given moment, without getting attached to either.
2. Meditation — steadying myself in my breath and the silence of inner knowing helps me to find a firm ground amidst changes.
Previously, I sought consolidation and support from others when I wasn’t sure how to cope with unexpected changes. It is sweet and warm to rest in the arms of others when we temporarily feel too small to face the world fully. However, when our loved ones see us struggle, they often try to offer advice and opinions. Usually done in good faith, it can, however, sometimes make us more confused and lost if we listen without taking the time to sit with ourselves first. Meditation helps with that. It also helps with exercising non-attachment and equanimity, both of which make it easier to adapt to new situations step by step.
With my mind soothed and my inner voice heard, I find that through meditation, I am always arriving where I am meant to be. It just might take time and patience sometimes.
Have you found practices that ground you in moments of change? I'd love to hear about them.
3. Opening to people, forming friendships.
I have a tendency for introversion, and my lifestyle is not typical for a person in their 20s, which can make it challenging to meet new people. But I decided I didn’t want these things to become obstacles. Through travelling and moving quite often, I put effort into starting conversations with strangers even when I feel very, very shy to do so. I also try my best to stay in touch with people I met over the years and catch up in person or over a call regularly. This helps forge connections in various places and reinforces the feeling that I am not going to be alone if I make a move or if something changes externally.
Of course, sometimes it is difficult to form new relationships even if we make the first moves and put ourselves out there.
However, I noticed that sometimes, the most memorable connections wait for us in the least expected places. All of the closest friends I have now are people I didn’t think I could come along with. Knowing that, I take time every day to practice compassion and non-judgement, and I do my best to nourish the notion of brotherhood and sisterhood with everyone. It showed its effects largely at the latest Vipassana meditation course when I had a few very long and deep conversations with beautiful people there, and even stayed friends with three of them.
Connections with other people are helpful in nourishing our adaptability.
4. Curiosity and trust.
I believe that we often don’t know what’s best for us until it happens and turns out to be precisely what we needed all along. I’ve seen that a lot in my life, enough to stop growing too attached to my plans and ideas.
I try not to resist changes and cultivate genuine curiosity for what’s to come — or at least find some comfort in trusting the process day by day. It is, of course, challenging, when a change comes with painful events and dismantles our sense of stability or comfort. Still, more often than not, what is dismantled makes way for something better to follow, if we welcome it. I do my best to stay open to the natural unfolding of life and try to act only when necessary, and not when fear propels me to do so.
In short: I focus on accepting discomfort until it becomes comfortable again. Optimism doesn't just brighten our view; it primes us for adaptability. Expecting the good prepares us to respond flexibly to life's variable winds.
5. Keeping in mind the fleeting nature of life.
Over time, I learned to keep the thought of death very close to me. I often imagine what it would be like if I died the next day, or in the next hour. I let it underline everything in my present mindset or lifestyle that isn’t serving myself or the people around me. This way, I noticed I have become more attentive to the present moment, and more mindful about how I use my time.
Cultivating presence helps me not to regret later having been distracted and not fully immersed in the happening. It also helps to move on when moving on is called for. It is easier to adapt to new situations when we know we didn’t waste the time we are leaving behind. Life, then, can be seen as an ongoing journey, not a limited collection of moments.
Essentially, it all boils down to this one thing, which I am learning and unlearning over and again. It is a steadfast and tedious but hopeful effort. One in which everything comes into its right place:
The mind, dividing experiences into subject and object, first identifies with the subject, “I”, then with the idea of “mine”, and starts to cling to “my body”, “my mind”, and “my name”. As out attachment to these three notions grows stronger and stronger, we become more and more exclusively concerned with our own well-being. All our striving for comfort, our intolerance of life’s annoying circumstances, our preoccupation with pleasure and pain, wealth and poverty, fame and obscurity, praise and blame, are due to this idea of “I”.
— Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche
There are some stones I wanted to show you, too. I took pictures of them during one of my afternoon walks here in Portugal. This beach is 20 minutes walk from where I stay.
I've shared practices that mean a lot to me, but this journey is ongoing, and our paths are intertwined. What practices hold significance for you? Are there areas of adaptability and peace you're curious to explore together in future letters? Please, share your thoughts and questions; they light the way for our shared exploration.
Great advice to develop adaptability and accepting what is. I have greatly enjoyed reducing my possessions, which is quite freeing. I also love to initiate conversations with strangers and have been pleasantly surprised how most people are happy to interact.
Love the pictures of the various stones. Looks like a wonderful setting to experience.