To Settle

It’s New Year’s Eve. I’m sitting in the house that I rent with three other people in Lynnwood, WA. There’s snow on the ground outside (not typical for this area), and I’m by the fire and listening to instrumental music by Yasmin Williams. (Shout-out to one of my new WA friends for introducing me to her music.) I’ve inadvertently arrived at the perfect setting to feel a bit nostalgic, reflective, creative, and maybe even hopeful. That is the perfect setting to write a blog post.

I’ve lived in this suburb of Seattle for about six months now. It doesn’t really surprise me when I think about the last six months of life, or even the last year to know that I haven’t written a blog post in a long time. I’ve written a few in my head, but honestly, I wondered if I was done with the phase of my life.

When I think over the last six months of my life, the only word that comes to mind is swirly. It feels all so very swirly. For a person who loves math, organization, and planning… swirly is not a very familiar (or if I’m being honest welcome) feeling. I’m not sure that swirly is a strong enough word, to express the feeling I’m trying to describe. It’s almost as if when I think about the last six months I feel dizzy. If I feel dizzy just thinking about the last six months, what was living it like? I should know, being the one to live it and all, but as I mentioned before when I think about it, I get a bit dizzy.

Perhaps, that is why as I tried to think about if I had any goals for the upcoming year, the only thing that comes to mind is that I want to settle. Not to be settled, not to feel settled, but to actively settle.

You might be wondering, “what in the world does that even mean?” (don’t worry, I am too). I think it’s a bit hard to describe, but as the saying goes, “I’ll give it the old college try.”

To settle, does not really have an association to location for me. I think it is pretty normal to still feel unsettled and new at six months when you just moved all the way across a country as big as the U.S. Also if this blog is any evidence, I really like to be in new places. In fact, with my Enneagram 1 personality and love of travel, I would say that one of the ways I know how “to settle” is to travel. I love the gradual peace and happiness that washes over me when I’m staring at a gorgeous view in a brand new place.

Ok, so to settle doesn’t mean location. If I’m giving it the old college try, I ought to google some things. Here are a few definitions of settle that I found:

• to place as to stay
• to establish residence
• to make quiet or orderly
• to establish or secure permantly
• to arrange in a desired position
• to come to rest
• to sink gradually or to the bottom

Settle for: to be content with

Settle the stomach: to remove or relieve the distress of nausea of indigestion

What would it mean “to settle” in my spirit? In my soul? In my mind? In my body? In my heart?

Perhaps, my mind becomes quiet and orderly by sinking gradually into my body and establishing residence within my soul.

Maybe I can find rest in my soul when I become content with my spirit, yet remove or relieve distress from my mind.

Slowly thinking through these definitions and these words brings a quietness to mind. Perhaps this year, my litmus test for decisions will be what things led to feeling settled.

I’m aware that many of my life choices involve doing the brave thing. They often seem the opposite of settling. Furthermore, as a counseling student, I am continuously endeavoring to feel my feelings more. Feelings can be quiet swirly, so now I’m left wondering what it might look like to settle but not to shut out my feelings?

Learning to settle my body feels like the most tangible on the list. I’ve learned a bit about breathing exercises and mindfulness in my studies. I have a love-hate relationship with these things. I think they can be prescribed as a cure-all and easy fixes to anxiety. Yet, the truth is everyone has to find their right version of these things and there’s no simple “fix” to anxiety.

Certain breathing exercises cause frustration for me because counting doesn’t soothe me and I get annoyed when I lose track. Noticing my thoughts without judging them can be extremely difficult depending on what kind of day I’m having. Creating a calming picture in my mind almost works, but isn’t quite there. Repeating a word over and over again to myself while sitting in a group doing the same gives my mind too much space to wander and I end up feeling worse than when I started.

I have found a few things that I like. There’s the butterfly hug which involves crossing your arms in a self hug and tapping on your collarbone rhythmically (there are youtube videos of it). I find it peaceful, but also not something you would do if you are trying to be covert about your anxiety-reducing activities. A pretty simple one is breathing in through your nose and slowly out through your mouth trying to exhale slower than you inhale. I also like progressive muscle relaxation or body scans (meditation body scan is a good thing to look up on youtube). These things actually calm me and make me feel more settled. I didn’t like all of these the first time I tried them or even the fourth time. Yet, slowly but surely they have become comforting. Therefore, in an effort to settle my body, my tangible goal for the new year is to alternate yoga with mindful meditation exercises everyday.

Rhythms also come to mind when I think of being settled. Prayer can be a rhythm to settle the soul. Going for walks helps to settle my mind and my body. Painting feeds my heart and my spirit. Yet, I often do not make time for these things if I haven’t established them as a habit, a rhythm, a way of life.

As I walk out of a year, filled with grief, transition, and a lot of disappointment, I wonder and truthfully worry what the new year will hold. Losing a friend, one so young, and so dear has made contemplating the future challanging. When you lose one so close, you grieve not only what was but what you had expected to come, all the laughter, adventures, support, and big life events. It’s harder for me to have goals than it used to be. Why have goals when the future throws so many curve balls?

Reflecting with a friend this past week reminded me how vastly and quickly my life has changed in the last 3.5 years. From math grad school, having post-concussive syndrome, living in Switzerland for a bit, then COVID started, then I lived in Virginia for a bit, to switching career paths and starting counseling grad school, to living in Georgia and then moving to Seattle. My twenties have been filled with so much change. It’s been stressful and uncertain. Two feelings with which, a world in the midst of a pandemic most likely resonates.

Therefore, it makes sense that I’m still wary of having goals and dreams, of hoping for things uncertain. And, yet, I crave the old optimism of previous years. Hebrews 11:1 states: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” I wonder more now what it means to have “confidence in what we hope for.” I’m curious about what assurance actually feels like. Perhaps, this journey I am on is what happens when you learn to replace optimism with hope, certainty with assurance.

So as I hold the new year in my heart and ponder the words “to settle”, quietness and peace wash over me. A flicker of hope emerges, and a smile rises to my face.

That’s all for now. Happy New Year Everyone.