What Is

All photographs in this post are from a personal trip to Iceland.

When I would call my Grampy on the phone to chat, he would always start by asking me, "What is?"

To me it was always just one of his quirks. Most people ask "How are you?" or "What's been going on in your life?" He just asked, "What is?"

This past week, I was listening to a daily meditation in my meditation app and the instructor guided me to acknowledge what is. It reminded me of Grampy, and not until that moment had I ever connected his question to a lesson in equanimity from my therapist I used to see.

My therapist taught me the value of "it is," and that "it" doesn't have to be anything else. It just is.

She challenged me to look at emotions and situations without judgment, and to ask myself: What do I do with this? Is it okay to just know it, and not do anything with it? This was her definition of equanimity.

It's been tough lately to hit pause on life and observe. But in those still and quiet moments, it feels like we have room to hold everything. Those moments seem so small in terms of time and yet so large in terms of what we can handle. Does that even make sense? I don't quite know how to describe it. It's one of many weird dichotomies I've been experiencing lately (like the feeling of being constantly rushed while also feeling like I have all the time in the world).

What I'm wondering:

Can you simply ask yourself "what is?" Without agenda and without judgment, can you live with the answer?