Damped Oscillations: Musings in Rediscovering Equilibrium at 54

I can breathe

…deeply.

I feel the ground beneath my feet.

I am starting to sense that my value as a human, as a provider for my family, has layers that go far beyond OKRs, KPIs, and CAC. IYKYK 😬

I come back to the breath. I can finally exhale. I can create; I can find my voice and value. I am learning how to become accustomed, once again, to living without cloaking the fullness of my experience.

We often discount our deep knowledge - our intuition - about what we know to be true. We do this because the "messaging" often becomes more powerful than the thing itself.

Lately, I’ve seen so much of reality through metaphorical filters, watching basic truths get "fancied up" with positioning language.

It creates a profound dissonance in the body.

I’ve come to re-learn yet again that disease stems directly from a lack of ease. We think of "Ease" as a noun - comfort, the absence of difficulty - and as a verb - to lessen, to move with care. In life, our neutral state should be ease.

This isn't to say that life is without friction, challenge, or stress. We are complex, nuanced creatures; we need those forces to live a life of fullness.

But when everyday life is jammed with constant friction, broken systems, and cognitive dissonance, the result is inevitable: actual dis-ease. It isn’t just about life’s trials; it’s about the way mental and spiritual stress compounds until it inevitably takes root in the physical.

It starts small. Depending on our physical and spiritual fortitude, we might withstand it for a long time. But in a state of prolonged stress, the mind acclimatizes to a misaligned baseline.

The body, however, possesses a deeper wisdom. It sends signs. And the longer you remain in that state, the longer the "damped oscillation" takes to settle - the longer it takes for the swinging pendulum of your nervous system to return to equilibrium.

Today is exactly three months since I was fired. I am only now starting to slowly unravel, unfurl, and let go.

I am beginning to feel the moments "in between." I can pause. I can do nothing without those unexpected pangs of anxiety - the kind that used to leave me light headed and feeling as though the blood had drained from my veins.

I have picked up my beloved stationery again. I’ve cleaned out my fountain pens and answered the quiet call of handwriting.

I feel a ground-level joy. It’s the kind that makes the corners of my eyes crinkle and leaves me with a quiet internal smile about nothing in particular.

This isn’t a commentary on my former job being inherently bad. It is about the reality of "open space." Over time, a structure emerged there that required a different shape - one I simply didn't fit. This happens with jobs, relationships, and even geographies.

I am thankful to be where I am at this moment. I have the blessing of letting the oscillations of the last handful of years finally come to a standstill.

Are things magically blissful? No. Life is still lifing, and the world is as heavy as ever.

You live here; you know.

But I feel a vibrant freedom to be fully myself. I am present for my family and powerful "babies" - teens, actually - who now spend their days stealing my clothes, jewelry, and makeup.

I am thankful for my friends, both online and off. You have been an astounding source of strength during this unraveling.

I know you know who you are. If you think I’m talking about you, I am. Thank you.

So... 54. Here we go.