Last week we returned to the tropics after a month in Estados Unidos. Our trip was extended due to the largest political protests in Panama in years. People took to the streets over rising cost of living and government corruption. In the remote area we hunkered down in for hurricane season, median income is $400 per year. Everyone gets around on boats and the math just doesn’t work for $7/gallon gas.
The protestors blocked the Pan-American highway, the only way in, out, and across the country. Food and fuel shortages took hold quickly and after weeks of negotiating a basket of 72 essential goods have been price-fixed for the next three years. Dozens of goods were added when indigenous activists and elders served government officials a bland lunch of white rice and canned tuna in styrofoam takeout boxes.
Whilst this was going on, we soaked up the comforts of time with family and friends (and reacquainting ourselves with air conditioning). We gave away our pantry of food and offered our cache of gasoline and received updates on What’s App. Deciding to not be more mouths to feed when supplies were running short was easy. Being away from the little island community we had meshed into was odd and disorienting. We woke up a few times imaging a failing bilge pump or chafe through our anchor rode as Azimuth bobbed around in the lagoon.
Gas prices in the US were high but manageable. Our place in the global power structure was a little more obvious as life carried on with convenience.
Now we’re back to 95 degree days and 75% humidity and the slow down of not much needing doing until hurricane season ends. Yesterday I took a walk with my five year old friend and her two dogs. As we walked further into the jungle, she called my attention to the increasing sound of rushing water. The waterfall is now more magnificent deeper into the rainy season. She splashed her dogs and washed her face. I marveled at how this place could be so much more and less precarious to the ills of a globalized world.
As we get settled back in, I’m leaning on a strategy I created a year or so ago.
I love seasons and moon phases and other cycles. A friend describes them as “paddlewheels to keep life flowing”. I was curious if I could design some sort of circle to structure my pockets of time. I wondered if it could be flexible enough to work in 20 minutes or an hour or a day or a week. I hoped it could be a balm to the burn-out I was feeling in a 9-5 and a railing to hold when my unstructured sea-bbatical started.
Here’s what I figured out:
Clear
Magic loves a void. Spend any amount of time clearing space. Put items back where they belong, remove dead leaves from houseplants or wilting flowers from vases, sweep or vacuum, deal with the damn dishes, remove something from your proverbial plate. Respond to that text, get the mail, sweep through your inbox, or spruce up your workspace. Feed your sourdough starter or do your daily lesson on Duolingo. This could also be taking a moment for deep breaths or meditation.
Move
This stop along the wheel reminds us of the body housing our beautiful brains. Take a walk around the block. Pull up a YouTube workout video. Do ten jumping jacks. Maybe stand up from your desk chair and do a few twists. Our cat can’t resist this $1.67 toy. Find your personal Cat Dancer and chase it.
Clean
Maybe you are now sweaty and dusty from the previous two steps. This time could look like a long shower or bath, or be as simple as a splash of water on the face or washing hands. I like grabbing a glass of water here too.
Create
Now your space and self have been catered to and it’s time to create. By our very nature, humans are creative. For you this could mean sitting down to paint, write, sew, or whittle. It could be tackling a presentation, spreadsheet, or memo at work. (Do people write memos? I like the sound of it.)
This order works for me, but you could start at any point amongst these four suggestions. You can spend minutes or hours at each station. If you have only a short time each day, you could zip through them all or pick one per day, completing the cycle in a half week. Some days I find it helpful or exciting to use a timer. Sometimes there is a list, but usually, there isn’t.
Part of the magic of this flow is how it makes the heat more bearable. I can fall into house chores and exercise knowing a shower is on the horizon. The shower feels somehow transformative having gotten actually dirty in modern life. Creativity is more accessible having tended to my space and self.
Can Do List:
This Native Plant Finder tool returns species by zip code. Some pots on your balcony or stoop or a section of the yard can do so much more than nothing.
Watch a documentary to wind down. Maybe Biggest Little Farm, Fantastic Fungi, or Night on Earth.
The new moon is on Saturday. Clear something away and try setting a new intention.
Did you try any of these? I’d love to hear about it.
I love your writings and reflections and practical activities suggested!
These are all great. I love seeing the world around you through your voice.