“This is the first, the wildest, and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.” -Mary Oliver
When we first started our nomadic journey, we would take weeks and sometimes months off-line every season, and always every Sunday. The world has changed so much in the twelve years we have been traveling, and we have not logged off in a while.
In honor of our 12 years wandering, we are signing off on all accounts for August. We have scheduled some content to post when we are offline, but if you don’t hear a reply, you will know why. To structure this time, we will dive into our LIVITS every week, knowing we are connected and aligned with all of you practicing with us.
Many questions arose when we decided to pursue this idea at this stage in our lives. What if someone we love is celebrating something important and we miss it? What if we lose income and followers on our platforms that support our nomadic life? What if something important happens and we don’t know about it? What if our kids post and we miss it? And then we remembered, for most of our lives, we supported ourselves and those who matter to us, we stayed in touch in real and connected ways, and we were well-informed citizens of the world with no online presence at all. In fact, in the first four years of our journey, we had this blog, but we intentionally didn’t have any social media accounts. When we reflect on that time, our memories are so vivid and clear.
In much the same spirit as when we left on our journey in 2013, with no smartphones and only our laptop, we are going to unplug. As August invites us into presence, we will soak in every precious moment we have with our children ‘home’. The sun hangs a little lower, the days stretch out like long exhalations, and something deep within us knows it is time to be DONE. DONE with the relentless pace, the endless checking, the noise. DONE with the loops that no longer serve us or tasks that drained, relationships that frayed, seasons of life that asked too much. And in that doneness, there will emerge a fresh kind of grace.
Clarity will rise, soft and sure like a late summer mist that hints of autumn. No more second-guessing. No more turning over the same questions like stones in our palms. We know there is relief in letting go, a lightness that will flood in when we stop holding on to everything all at once and we reclaim our time, our breath, our energy. And in this space, we will be reminded of what it feels like to rest, to unplug, to listen inward, and to fully show up for those in our midst. And to rediscover, perhaps for the first time in a while, the quiet rhythm of our internal summer.
I wrote my first poem this year to celebrate this month’s word…
August by Colleen Mariotti
The well runs dry, a hollow ache,
From pushing, striving, for productivity’s sake.
Each day a race, run with might,
To hold on against the fading light.
But now, a whisper, soft and low,
“Enough,” it sighs, “it’s time to go.”
And with that breath a gentle ease,
Replaces tension with a twilight breeze.
The gears grind down, the engine stills,
Perched on a quiet windowsill.
No longer reaching, grasping, tried,
In stillness now, space to come alive.
A canvas bare, a fertile ground,
Where seeds of new beginnings are found.
The weight of effort, now undone,
Replaced by the hope of the rising sun.
Let DONE be not a final sound,
but a pulse that circles back around.
Where struggle thins and silence grows,
the edge of all becoming glows.
