I have recently discovered how a funny thing can happen when you focus too intently on your own life: the world gets very small, and your problems can feel very weighty. This is hardly a novel insight, so let's put a finer point on it: I’m talking about something more subtle than realizing that being up to something bigger than your own comfort is an access to happiness and more nuanced than dismissing a focus on self-reflection.
Rather, there is a particular way in which you can start to experience the world when you are focusing keenly on your own life: a low-level, constant sense of malaise can set in, and patterns and habits that don't serve us -- the thoughts or behaviors that keep us safe and stuck at the same time -- can rear their heads with a vengeance.
The key here is not even realizing that you are dwelling exclusively in your own concerns until you have an experience that gets you outside the record groove ridges of your routine and forces a detour away from the well-worn loops your thoughts take in your mind. Only when you are pushed out of these habitual modes of thought do you see how you were living and rediscover how magical other people, places, conversations, and ideas can be.
The past few weeks have been ones of said "record groove ridges" and "well-worn thought loops" for me. Though this "lack of mojo" was a disconcerting conundrum (hello, welcome to being a human being), I couldn't see how contained my thoughts, concerns, and experience had become because I was in it. Claire's birthday party on Friday catapulted me out of these patterns in a flurry of vintage lamé and laughter in the way we only do together, and here we are: dancing with mojo again...and writing about it.
There's an important macro point here too, which, to give credit where credit is due, I read through Allie Michelle: you will be in mojo and out of mojo -- it's not a one-and-done thing. This is what it is to be in life. I think the practice to develop here is the patience and space to allow yourself to be on both sides of the mojo pendulum, greeting each with patience and grace and the mindfulness that you will always swing back and forth, back and forth. And that's okay.