Literally Head in the Cloud
About finding clarity: disconnect to connect
Have you ever looked out of an airplane window and admired the beauty of the fluffy, white clouds? And, have you experienced that moment when you fly into one of those clouds, and suddenly you can’t see anything anymore?
You’re suddenly immersed into this dense, grey fog. You can’t pinpoint where your vision ends and begins.
I’ve encountered a few such moments in the skies, and on the ground.
Moments where I spiral into the whirlwinds of my reality - confused by the prospects of my future, and frustrated by the happenings of my past.
Head in the cloud.
In such moments, clarity - the one thing I yearned for the most - felt unattainable. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see beyond the grey fog right in front of my eyes.
Now, having been through such moments, I found that the best thing to do is to disconnect.
This does not mean that I disconnect entirely from my reality, but rather that I take a step back and fly out of the cloud for a brief moment, to see its shape again.
Disconnect to connect
2 years ago when I first got to Amsterdam, the presence of Covid meant quarantine was still affecting much of our lives. I was mostly alone during my first year in Amsterdam.
The solitude felt lonely initially, but gradually, it allowed the conditions for the most significant self-discovery and perspective shifts in my life.
Left to myself, I was isolated from the usual distractions that had previously consumed my attention - social interactions that offered instant serotonin boosts, club nights that offered instant dopamine rushes, and even the occassional shopping sprees. All of these were gone.
I was no longer surrounded by stimulants. I was pushed to disconnect from the familiar conditions of my reality.
As much as this push initially frustrated me, I was suddenly able to see the clouds, suddenly able to see the different aspects of my reality previously invisible to me.
Friendships, family, unprocessed childhood, fears, insecurities, self-love, self-hate.
Suddenly, I could see these aspects of my life with a clarity I’ve never experienced before. This clarity, I believe, is most possible by disconnection.
This disconnection does not mean anxious detachment, where we disengage from our own life once we are overwhelmed.
This disconnection does not mean an anxious detachment fueled by the urge to escape. Rather, it is grounded in a desire for self-discovery, accommodated by the patience and self-love to go through this process.
This disconnection is also grounded in the awareness that life is still very much happening around us, so we don’t disengage entirely from life.
It is about taking a step back to ground ourself in clarity, get perspectives, and afterall, re-engage with heightened awareness.
It is much like, when we close our eyes, we are aware that our surroundings still exist. With this awareness, we close our eyes to look within. Once we have found the calm we needed, we open our eyes again to welcome and perceive the external environment.
What lies ahead?
Life has a way of leading us back into the clouds, where curtains of grey fog block our vision.
So this post is a reminder to myself. As I return to the more hustled version of my reality from a 2-month vacation, there will be moments where I feel like I am flying into the clouds again.
In such moments, I shall have enough awareness to catch myself in the chain of reactivity. To consciously disconnect, to gain clarity and perspectives, then re-engage with a more grounded awareness.
Writing as a practice
I have found writing to be a great tool to practice conscious disconnection. To actively see and perceive the “clouds” from a balcony view. To process my thoughts, emotions and reactions.
Writing is, indeed, the site of collision between a mind and its external world.
This post is my effort at using writing as a tool for conscious disconnection, to gain clarity and perspectives, and to afterall re-engage in the wonders of life.
☕
Have you ever felt lost?