When the Void is Voiding
It’s been nearly a week since we got back from a month-long whirlwind of traveling: Our honeymoon in Oaxaca, a trip to California to visit family in both socal and norcal, and a trip to Seattle to attend my cousin’s wedding.
Suffice to say that the post-vacation blues are hitting hard this week!
When we got home from Seattle last Wednesday, I went straight into work mode at the stationery shop. Last Saturday was the shop’s 10-year anniversary and we hosted a big party for guests. Leading up to it, the shop was closed to guests while the team worked to rearrange the shop to add new merchandise - it basically felt like moving houses. It’s been beautiful to witness and be a part of all that goes into running a small business and seeing the fruits of the labor while celebrating 10 years.
Having that celebration to come home to completely distracted me from and delayed the inevitable, which was the loneliness and depression I’ve begun to feel this week. John is back in the office and today is actually the one-year anni of launching Moonrise Mindset. That’s right! A year ago, I was nothing but hopes and dreams and stars in my eyes as I hit publish on this very squarespace site. So much and also so little has changed in a year.
I bring this up because I still am very much in the early stages of building this practice and so the void is currently voiding. I know I won’t feel this down forever and I know this work lull won’t always be the case.
Right now, I’m doing my best to rest and leave space to feel the grief and loneliness. It’s there because of the incredible month-long adventure we just had the privilege of experiencing - filled with celebration, exploration, connection, joy, grounding, and more.
Sometimes when the void is voiding, it’s not because something’s wrong, it’s because something is rearranging and settling into its new place.
Sometimes, the void shows up in those in-betweens: after a high, before the next beginning, when the dust settles from a big life chapter, when I’ve stretched and expanded and now the rest of me is catching up.
It’s easy to mistake it for emptiness or something I’ve done wrong. My brain loves fill the space with stories about what I should be doing, as if rest needs to be earned. In reflecting on this, I’m reminded how much of a gift it is to have these moments of pause.
If you’re also navigating what feels like a void, here are a few gentle reflections and reframes:
What if this lull is an invitation, not a loss?
What parts of me are wanting to be seen in this stillness?
What if the void is where my next vision is forming?
I don’t have all the answers and I think that’s the point. For now, I’m here feeling my feels and getting to be reminded that even the void is sacred.