Blending the two, grief and flow, in itself is, flow. And for some reason, that’s really comforting to know, and it gives me confidence in my inner knowing, that everything’s going to be just alright.
This writing piece is part of a 30 day writing challenge I’m doing as my dog Pepper is nearing the end of her life.
Rules of the challenge
- Write for 30 mins for 30 days
- Don’t need to publish it, just write in apple notes as bare minimum
- Write about grieving for Pepper and exploring my creativity
- Publish on substack + medium + my website
- Write from iPad
I recently finished reading the book Ikigai by Héctor García, Francesc Miralles. I was recently in Tokyo and Kamakura, and I love reading books related to the place I am travelling in. I read Dance Dance Dance by Haruki Murakami while I was living in Sapporo for a year in 2011. The novel was set in Sapporo, and there’s something magical about reading something where the places mentioned in the book is or nearby and close to. Something I’m not used to as a Korean-Australian who reads books from places that are foreign to me.
Ikigai seemed fitting for me to read, especially since I wanted to understand how I could better utilise my talents and skills so I can offer it to the world, and eventually make better money with it. This is something that’s on my mind lately. Honestly, what I was hoping to find out was… “how can I make more money with the skills and talents I have?”
Now that I’ve finished reading the book, I can tell you that the book did not answer this question for me. It did not share the secrets of how to find the middle place between ‘what I love to do’, ‘what I can get paid for’, ‘what I am good at’ and ‘what the world needs’. If you’re familiar with the Ikigai concentric circles, then you’ll know what I’m talking about right now. If you don’t know, here’s what it looks like:
I was disappointed to find that the book doesn’t really explore the concentric notions to detail, and instead, spends a lot of time on ‘flow state’ and what people do to stay healthy (like harahachibu which is to eat until your stomach is 80% full, or to move daily, grow your vegetables and have close connections right up to the day you die).
I was quite desperate to know what my skills really were and to maximise them (is this the result of maxxing culture? Potentially, I think so). Am I getting the most out of my buck with my skills or am I simply in the wrong environment, wrong industry, wrong company etc etc.?
The book explores ‘flow state’ quite a bit. And how allowing us to be in flow state more, is good for us. The more flow we have, the better life is. The more fun life is, the more productive we can be. And I can see how that can be true. When I’m not in flow state, things feel harder, things are more draining and there is more resistance. Everything seems annoying and like it’s an uphill battle. This can cause stress and anxiety, and I guess it’s like living in misalignment.
Living in flow however, feels like time is passing by quickly before you even know it. You’re immersed in something. It’s fun. So much fun, that you find it hard to stop. And being in flow, is harder for me that I thought, upon reading the book. The morning pages I do daily has definitely helped me with this. But since working in corporate, I do wonder how often I enter this state of flow.
When I used to work in hospitality, even though I was really physically tired, making coffee and working in a rhythm with other team mates was so enjoyable. A sense of togetherness in the teamwork, and when things just click and I’m pumping out lots of good coffees, I used to be in flow state more often that I thought at the time.
Luckily in my corporate job, I get to write which can be fun and spark some creativity and helps me get into the flow state, but overall, I do feel that I’ve lost in touch what keeps me in flow for hours and hours. I miss that and I hope to recover some of the things I used to love doing more and more.
I’m already on the path to finding it, though. I’ve already noticed that when I am cooking, especially with no recipes and no time limit, that I get into a flow state. Even the most stressed out Julia or tired Julia will suddenly feel awake when she’s cooking with random ingredients and she’s faced with a challenge to create a fun and delicious dish.
As you may have read in the title, this piece isn’t just about flow state. It’s about grieving as well. I’m currently in the process of grieving for my 13 year old senior greyhound Pepper. She’s still alive, but she’s going to die soon. Her body is deteriorating and the signs are all there.
It’s been painful to live with her knowing that she will leave me soon, and soon, the three of us (me, Ryuto and Pepper), will become two. I’ve lost my cat about 10 years ago, and the pain then was like a pain like no other. Knowing that I am about to face this pain again, it’s like this big elephant in the room, like I know it’s coming, but I’m just here, waiting for it to come.
I learned recently, that with lightness, there is darkness. And with darkness, there is lightness. To me, darkness is the death of my dog that is coming soon, and the lightness is flow. Being in flow state to me, also means presence, creativity and an appreciation for all things as they are and what I can do in my power with it.
A part of me is scared that the pain with the loss of Pepper is going to kill me, and it probably will. I will be whaling for at least 2 weeks, as this is what happened last time I lost my cat, but this time I’m going to grieve differently. I will cry and cry, and I’ll probably be bedridden for a few days or more, but this time I’m going to try to capture what I can about the experience and remember to be in flow when I can.
This could look like journaling, or writing in here, or cooking, drawing, writing poems or letters to Pepper… This time, I won’t be powerless and hopeless, but I will grieve from an empowered place.
Now I say I will do all these things when my dog hasn’t even passed yet. But the fact of the matter is that I’m already doing it right now. I have already started the grieving process and I am in flow right now as I write this at 7:33am on a Tuesday morning.
I am already writing and having time pass me without me realising it. I am already in flow, and I am already grieving.
When it comes to ending my posts, I’m not sure what to say, as it’s something I’m still getting used to writing in this way… but one thing I’ll say is… that being in flow and grieving were two things I didn’t know could complement each other, but to me it just makes sense. Life isn’t about polarities and being black or white, one way or another. It’s about mixing and blending things that don’t make sense usually, kind of like when I’m cooking and I blend random things to make a yummy sauce. Blending the two, grief and flow, in itself is, flow. And for some reason, that’s really comforting to know, and it gives me confidence in myself and an inner knowing, that everything’s going to be just alright.