Issue #16: Have I Lost My Spark?

I ask myself as I wear the same sweatpants and sweatshirt outfit all week...

I’ve half-written a dozen newsletters for this week, but none of them felt right [hence why this one is a day late].

There’s a tangible heaviness that seems to hang in the air, much like the persistent drizzle outside my window in Zürich. I’ve found myself more absorbed in browsing rental listings in sunnier spots like Mallorca or Barcelona than I’d care to admit. And yes, I’ve worn my go-to Zara sweatsuit more times this week than is socially acceptable. But who’s counting, right?

There’s a peculiar lack of inspiration that’s been dogging me lately, a sort of joylessness in my daily interactions and a glaring absence of hobbies or sunshine. I’ve caught myself lost in endless social media scrolls, each scroll leaving me feeling more disconnected and indifferent towards the glimpses of others’ lives. And in these moments, I’m prone to romanticizing my past, indulging in the belief that perhaps, just maybe, the grass was greener on the other side.

Reflecting on my days in Portland, I’m drawn to the idyllic memories of wandering through our charming neighborhood brimming with cozy coffee shops, quaint boutiques, and old book stores mingling with the crisp Oregon air. Conveniently, I gloss over the less savory sights of that urban landscape [homeless tents and the occasional naked wanderer]. Instead, I choose to remember the joy of our Saturday rituals, wandering down to the university farmers market, a coconut milk latte in hand, relishing in the simple pleasure of selecting fresh flowers and my favorite vegan cheeses.

Contrast this with my current experiences at the Zürich farmers market, an even that formerly light me up, and it’s night and day. Here, it’s a frenetic dash, a competition for the last loaf of bread, an exercise in patience as you wait for someone else to handpick your produce. It lacks the personal touch, the joy, and the sense of community I yearn for.

But it’s not just the farmers market. This feeling of disconnection extends to many aspects of my life here. From the half-hearted attempt at decorating our apartment to the absence of personal touches that make a space feel like home, it’s as if I’m living in a liminal space, caught between what was and what could be.

So, I find myself asking, how do you reignite that spark when the things that once brought you joy no longer do? This isn’t about depression or a deep-seated unhappiness. It’s more about confronting the reality of a moment in life that just feels off, like a shirt that’s shrunk in the wash—familiar yet uncomfortably tight, and a wish that it could just go back to the way it was.

I’m sharing this with you not just as a cathartic release, but as a reminder that it’s okay to not feel inspired every waking moment. It’s okay to feel out of place, to mourn the loss of small joys, and to admit that, sometimes, life just feels a bit... meh.

But here’s the silver lining I am taking from this realization: acknowledging these feelings is the first step towards moving past them. It’s about finding new sources of joy, new hobbies, and perhaps, eventually, making peace with the Zürich farmers market [or finding a hidden gem that brings back a hint of that Portland magic].

So, to anyone else who’s feeling stuck in a rut, know you’re not alone. We’re all navigating this messy, beautiful thing called life, one unpredictable day at a time. And who knows? Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned in the midst of this gloom, a reminder to cherish the small moments of happiness wherever we can find them.

So, what's my game plan? I'm going to hit 'send' on this newsletter, grab my favorite reusable tote, and head to the grocery store to pick up some flowers—just because. When I get home I am going to blare some Luke Combs, dance with the hubs and whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Because in the moments, I think it’s the little things that make a world of difference.

Thank you for being here with me, for allowing me to share my thoughts and feelings so openly. It’s through this connection, this virtual sharing of experiences, that I find a glimmer of the inspiration I’ve been missing. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.

Please hit subscribe or send this to a friend who might need it, it would mean the world.

Xoxo,

Linds Alyse