Excerpt from Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life.  Run – don’t walk – and go get this book.

I just finished the book "Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life" and I am so sad it is over. One of my favorite excerpts from the book (shown above) is about the term wabi-sabi. The author, Amy Krouse Rosenthal, introduces the concept this way:

"I was noticing how more and more I was feeling both happy (actually, content) and sad at the same time. Happiness always seemed to be tinged with sadness, and, strangely, vice versa…A couple months later, I picked up Utne Reader magazine. I was drawn to the cover story about wabi-something. It reminded me of the word wasabi, which I like, so I bought the issue. Here’s what I found:

SABI: a mood – often expressed through literature – of attentive melancholy.
WABI: a cozier, more object-centered aesthetic of less as more.
WABI-SABI: As a single idea, wabi-sabi fuses two moods seamlessly: a sigh of slightly bittersweet contentment, awareness of the transience of earthly things, and a resigned pleasure in simple things that bear the marks of that transience."

Ever since I read this portion of the book, I cannot get it out of my mind, because it expresses so perfectly how I have felt for so long. Over the past four or so years, I have grown more and more content deep down, more present in each moment, and more aware of all the beauty and wonder in the world and in my life. But on the surface, there has been all kinds of drama, calamity and frustrations that I have not necessarily dealt with in the most productive ways possible. Last week I was an emotional train wreck as I – at long last – sunk into the realization that I am selling my house. I have known this for weeks, but have been in a state of denial, trying to stay positive and upbeat about it. Still, even as I was moving through daily crying spells and deep sadness, I was very thankful deep down. Thankful that I have had this home for the time I’ve had it, thankful for my partner, for my friends and for the adventures that await me – for all the doors that will now open as a result of selling this house.

Moving to LA has been a mixed bag for me. I’m not exactly sure I like living here and I haven’t made any real friends who I have maintained a consistent and meaningful contact with. If anything, my attempts at trying to nurture new friendships and make new connections have mostly fallen flat. Last week, this was one of the reasons I was feeling so devastated, as a handful of my very best friends in the world live a stone’s throw from the house I’m now selling up in Solvang. In a way, I felt like I was losing my entire world.

For some reason I am feeling lighter and freer this week. While last week was more about genuine sadness and heartache, this week feels more like the usual wabi-sabi. I feel so content with so much in my life, and in a weird way this makes me sad. Sad in a thankful way, in a bittersweet way, in a way that recognizes the impermanence of it all. I was running errands earlier this week, watching all the many, many people whizzing by in their cars – so many people - and I realized that my time in LA just might be a time of profound alone-ness. Not lonliness, but alone-ness, as in I just might not find a tribe of soulmates down here. This just might be a time to focus inward and dive deeper into my art and writing than ever before. This is very exciting…and sad….so very…what is it…wabi-sabi.