Between Now and Next


I’m between now and next. 

I haven’t arrived at my new destination but I’ve already departed my last location. I’ve made the jump but I haven’t quite landed. I’m suspended mid leap in a reflective pause. 

And I’m not pressing play, just yet. 

Because I need this recalibration. This interval of inquiry. I’m keen to ensure that I don’t move forward in a purely perfunctory manner, rather that I advance with intention and awareness. 

I feel like I’m at the cusp of something unknown. Although it’s all unknown, isn’t it? Like the foreign land of my fears, life and all its variables do not come laced with any real degree of certainty. 

So here I am, in the pause. Which really is simply the present, the only place we can ever truly be. There’s a simplicity about this space that feels not only welcome, but overdue. Although I have self care rituals, I’d been running through them with a detached approach. As though they were chores to be completed rather than experiences to be enjoyed, moments to be noticed. 

I spoke to a health coach recently. After nigh on two years of headaches and nausea I finally realized I couldn’t keep attributing my frequent bouts of sickness to the fact that I’d moved across the Atlantic and embarked on a new life. 

The more the headaches hit me, the more I wanted to deny their existence. Sometimes, basking in the blissfulness of ignorance is just too tempting and I found myself burying my head in the sand. For 24 months. 

For some reason it was easier for me to contend with the debilitating physical blow of migraine symptoms than it was for me to actually reach out and get some help with them. 

After a particularly bad bout, I got myself together and scheduled a telephone consultation. Intuitively, I had a good feeling about how it would go. I was right. The lady I spoke to just got it. And all of a sudden I was flooded with the euphoria that comes when we connect with someone on a level that truly feels fundamental. 

She said words out loud that had been floating unspoken in my head for a long time. 

Hormones. Change. Perimenopause. 

Words that when I visited my own doctor, were dismissed out of hand. 

Two different consultations that gave me two completely different outcomes. One spoke of balance and exploration and support, the other spoke of steroids and beta blockers. One spoke of nutrients and absorption, the other spoke of prescriptions and pills. 

I got a swift reminder that I am the queen in residence in my body. And that in order for me to reign with true strength and splendour, I need to be sure that I act in accordance of what feels authentic to me on a visceral level. 

I also need to be able to step back sometimes and reassess. To listen to my body without judgement and frustration but with patience and kindness. Always, kindness. 

I’m finding my way with being at ease in the pause. Letting go of expectation and obligation. Releasing worry of ‘what if’ and ‘what might’. I’m gaining a deeper appreciation of how inextricably woven our health and our lifestyle choices are. Honouring one is to pay respect to the other. 

Today I deleted all the e-mails in my inbox. They just disappeared into a puff of glorious nothingness and I marveled at how easy it was to just lighten the load. To allow myself to do that. To give myself permission. To let go of guilt and fear of recrimination. 

Because the reality is that no lives will be lost on account of my mass e-mail elimination. But mine may be made easier. 

I’m scrolling less. I don’t need to engage with every social media post that I see. People will understand if I miss things. Or maybe they won’t. Either way, it’s ok. I’m ok. 

I’m lighting more candles. I’m taking more baths. I’m reading more print on paper. I’m enjoying more art. I’m considering more creative endeavours. And I’m savouring the slowness. Letting it unravel. Not fast forwarding. I want to pay tribute to where I am. To who I am. Reminding myself I am allowed to do this. I am allowed to feel this.

With love. Without apology. 

See you on the other side.

Image taken at Jen Ray: Deep Cuts exhibition, courtesy of Leon Cato.

4 thoughts on “Between Now and Next

  1. Skylar, beautiful and inspiring my friend. I am happy for you. You take good care of your body and soul. You are listening and the truths will come. Love you, Jamie

  2. This is really comforting and helps the breaths Skylar. I’ve been smothering my joy (I know it, hubby knows it, close friends know it, therapist knows it). I need and want to pull it out; looking for my shovel to start digging!!! xoxo

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