This morning, on the way to dropping off the boys, I was listening to another one of Tara Brach’s podcasts. On this one, she mentioned how feelings only last for just a few seconds. The life of an actual feeling is pretty short, and yet, we carry them for such a long time. What makes us get attached to the feeling is the thoughts we have around it. We feel something, however ephemerally, and we immediately attach meaning to it. We’re meaning-making machines after all. So we create this story around what this feeling “means” and then we spend the rest of our lives feeding that story. We do it so often and with so little mindfulness that it simply becomes “truth.”
At some point, we completely forget that this “story” was never true. We feed it more and more until it’s just a part of who we are and how we define ourselves. Everything that comes after that is just more fodder for the “story.”
As I listened to this, I thought of all the areas of my life where this is true. All the beliefs I have about myself. The way I think of myself and look at myself. Some of these thoughts and beliefs are so engrained in my core that it’s hard to tell when they started and how to separate them from who I am. Or who I believe I am.
Tara mentions Byron Katie in her talk and I’d read some of Katie’s books a while ago when I took Stephanie Lee’s classes. And she has these four questions:
- Is it true?
- Can you absolutely know that it’s true?
- How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought?
- Who would you be without the thought?
And Tara talks about doing an exercise where you just assume it’s not true. Like if I believed that I am a person who needs to be peaceful. What if I just assumed I didn’t need peace. What if each time the thoughts/feeling came up, I just said, “I don’t need peace.” I am Ok or I am already peaceful or whatever, just let that thought not be true. What would happen then?
This idea made me very curious. What if I questioned some of my fundamental beliefs about myself (especially the negative ones) and just practiced assuming they were untrue. What would happen then? It’s as if I am going all the way back to that one moment of first feeling an emotion and choosing not to write the story I wrote. Choosing to let that feeling float away without it meaning anything. So now I have no story. Nothing to feed over the next 30-some years. And maybe then it’s no longer a belief. No longer a part of my identity.
Even the “good” parts of our identity can sometimes weigh us down. For example, I am quite responsible. It’s at the core of who I am. On the whole, this is a good thing. It’s helped me achieve a lot of success and respect in life. But sometimes this feeling of needing to be responsible can make me feel crushed and stressed and cause me to overwork, overcommit, etc. So even a seemingly positive trait might be worth questioning.
This talk made me think all day about all the “automatic” thoughts that come to my mind. The way I react to things. The assumptions I make about what I “have to” do. Who I am and who I must be. It’s shocking how many assumptions I make all day long. It’s shocking how many core beliefs I have that I could easily question now that I notice them.
I decided that I would spend one whole day next week taking notes as some of these things pop into my mind. So I can see them in plain sight and see all the assumptions I make. See all the stories I created. If I spend a whole day believing nothing about myself, assuming nothing, and creating no new stories, how would that look? I am curious to see if it’s even possible.
But I love the idea of the possibility. If nothing about me has to be true, I can let anything go and pick up anything else I want. Or I can just be present and open to whatever is here.
Wouldn’t that be magical?
I got an email this morning that immediately made me mad.
I don’t want to get into details cause my post is not about the specific example but the gist of it is that I needed some help from this company. I paid them for a service but I have a specific hurdle in the way. I asked them if they could help me. This company is in the education and people-help business so I figured they might be helpful. And after a long period of silence, they basically said “no we won’t do it. good luck!”
And I was mad.
I felt like I’d done my part, taken a big leap and they were just being jerks. I felt like what I was asking for (and not out of want but need) was not that big a deal and they just didn’t care. I felt like I was giving them all this money and they were so full of themselves that they couldn’t be bothered to help me.
On and on I went.
I will be honest, I even thought of canceling what I’d paid for and sending a “go to you know where” sort of email to them. I just felt really really mad. I felt like they were being snobby and unhelpful and why did I want to associate with that kind of company? Why would I give my money and time to them when I had alternatives.
But since I’ve been working so hard on my awareness and mindfulness, I decided to just sit with my anger and frustration and do nothing.
After a while, the anger started to dissipate. (always does of course.) And I realized that what I actually felt was disappointment. More than that, I felt a bit of shame. This hurdle is something that I am frustrated about and feel like it’s a personal problem. So when they said they couldn’t help, I took it as “you’re super-weird to have this problem, good luck with that.” It played into my insecurity in this area. I read into her words. I took them as insults.
When, actually, all she was saying was “I talked to my manager and I was told I can’t do this.” She didn’t even tell me how she felt. Just that she wasn’t allowed to help in this way. She even said she was looking forward to meeting me in person, etc. She was perfectly nice outside of saying she was unable to do what I wanted.
And while I still might feel disappointed that they weren’t willing to go the extra-mile for me, I think a large chunk of my anger was really the shame of needing them to do it in the first place. Shame I already feel around my need. So once I was able to sit with the anger and allow the shame to come to the surface, I went back and reread the email and I could see she was being nice. She was trying to put it in the nicest way she could. Or at least that’s how I am reading it now. I am giving her the benefit of the doubt.
This is supposed to be the gift of mindfulness from what I was told. The ability to sit with something and not react. Allowing things to come to the surface. I am grateful I was able to do it today.
I know that my next steps could still prove this company is not the right fit for me, but at least I hope that the decision will come from experience and not emotional reaction.
And I hope I can learn to sit with discomfort more often. I can see it has a lot to teach me.
Ps: I don’t know if these posts are too vague. I wanted to make it generic so my point is clearer but I apologize if the abstraction is making it frustrating. If so, let me know.
Pps: I had the joy and privilege of being on the Paperclipping Roundtable today, you can listen to it here.
I tend to be a stresser.
If you read here regularly, you’ll remember that I briefly mentioned that stress inhibits self-reflection and self-awareness. I might not have the details right but basically when you’re stressing out, your body kicks into the fight-or-flight response and that shuts down most everything else. Because at this point you’re in emergency mode where you’re worried about whether a tiger’s going to eat you and in those cases, thinking things through is not to your benefit. You want to just run.
But, in my life, I don’t tend to face tigers that often.
I noticed in the last few days that when things don’t go as expected, I tend to panic and stress. I’m a fixer. It’s what I do. So if I don’t know enough or I don’t have the power to fix it, I get more and more panicky. Which makes pretty much all of my higher-thinking shut down. And then I can’t even think so I panic more.
See where I’m going with this?
Yes, it’s not pretty.
I find that the less knowledgeable I am or the less power I have, the more this happens. And when I stress and can’t think, I panic and then I feel a sense of rush. I need to rush, rush, rush. Which then means I make more mistakes and get more frazzled.
And then I just want to curl up.
I noticed that when something goes wrong, I tend to elevate its urgency. When I am feeling weak, like I’ve been recently, I trust myself less in all areas of my life, and then I tend to make things even more important and urgent then they are. Which makes me behave in a way that leaves me feeling weak and small. And it just lives in that vicious cycle for a while.
So, instead of doing that again, I’ve been trying to pay attention to my impulses more. When things go wrong (which seems to be happening frequently, lately) I tell myself to take a break. I say it out loud. I get up and walk around for three minutes. I then sit back down and calm myself down so I can think. I figure out a list of things I will try next. And then I get to work.
The stepping back, walking, making a list, etc. all buy me some time. This way my fight-or-flight stops taking over and I can calm down and engage my higher thinking. So I can come up with some rational next steps. Creating an environment where I can think again is the most important crucial first step. Once I can think, logic comes in handy and almost always helps me solve my problem.
It’s getting access to the logical thinking that matters most.
If there’s a tiger in my living room, it’s ok to let stress take over. But in just about every other situation, I’ve come to believe that stress does not serve me.
And, remember, I’m all about getting rid of things that don’t serve me.
Just like Brene’s talks and books help me recognize the feeling of shame, I’m working to learn to recognize the feeling of stress. Because if I can recognize it, I can remember that this is not the time to make decisions.
And I can wait for it to go away.
It all starts with recognition.
If you’ve been reading here with any regularity you know that I don’t like to talk about work here. You also know that I’ve had a high-urgency work problem that stopped me from being able to write down thoughts here for two weeks. While things are shifting and possibly calming down a bit, I am not ready to talk about anything just yet. And I might not ever want to.
While I’m generally a firm believer of talking things out and getting them out of my system, I’ve sort of been trying to do the opposite in this case. Ok, maybe not exactly the opposite…
Here’s the deal: in the last few weeks I’ve experienced a lot of negative emotions. Shame, fear, frustration, sorrow, exhaustion, embarrassment, resentment, and just plain old helplessness. I slept fitfully and ate very little and not well. I abandoned most of my routine and saw very little of my kids.
By the end of the two weeks, I was pretty much a wreck. A bitter, frustrated, spent wreck.
I found myself unable to let go of a lot of the anger and resentment. Part of me kept remembering that shame couldn’t live in public and I had to share. But I already had told a few close friends about the events and I really didn’t need to talk about it anymore. I felt like I was holding on to the feelings for no good reason. I was letting the anger and resentment envelop me.
So, at some point today, I just decided to let it go.
I decided that holding on to all that was hurting me more than anyone else. It was hurting the people I love. And it wasn’t really doing anything to those who upset me to begin with. So it just felt like by letting it go, I could immediately make my day better.
Don’t get me wrong. I will still need time to heal. To catch up on sleep, life, and get my soul shining again. And after the two weeks I’ve had, it might take a long time to get there.
But the first step is letting go. And forgiving. Forgiving myself. Forgiving those who hurt me. Giving people the benefit of the doubt. Letting go of the hurt. People will hurt you. Most of them don’t matter. It’s only worth healing the hurt between those whom you love and you. The others are just not worth your time and energy. And I decided that by holding on to the hurt, I was giving others more power than they deserved. So much of life is about letting go of what doesn’t serve me. It feel like I have to learn this lesson again and again.
So, today, I started the process of letting go. Forgiving.
And now comes the long process of healing.
For reasons that aren’t clear to me, I’ve been considerably grouchy lately. It’s been going on long enough that I am angry at myself for being grouchy, which, of course, makes me grouchier. It’s a stupid cycle because being grouchy makes me do things that aren’t good for me. I make bad choices and then I feel ashamed or frustrated or angry. But I am too grouchy to break the cycle so I keep making them and getting more upset. Letting myself down.
It’s a vicious cycle and doesn’t serve me at all.
One of the exercises I’ve done in several of the classes I took last year was to think about where my peace is. What brings me peace? This is not to be confused with joy or happiness. It’s not about what makes me proud of myself. It’s not about what makes me laugh.
It’s just about peace.
And, for me, that often means calm and quiet and a deep sense of belonging in the world. Being 100% content. For others, it might mean something completely different.
So the first step is knowing what peace means for you. Then the next step is knowing what situations, people, times, things, places create that sense of peace for you.
I discovered that there are a few things that put me in the peaceful mindset. One of them is looking at the sea. There’s something about endless water that calms me down immediately. The same effect is created by Redwood trees. Something about the expansiveness of nature. I also feel peaceful in the night or early morning hours when my kids are sleeping and I don’t have anything I have to do. Walking with loud music (or classical music) blaring in my ears. Hugging my kids. Holding hands with my husband. Curling up with coffee or tea and a good book.
These are simple. But I don’t do them often enough.
I think I need to make a list of twenty or so things that make me feel peaceful. This way, when I am grouchy, I can look at my list and hope that one or two will be appealing and possible at that moment.
As for this week, tomorrow I get to do a few of the items on my list and I am already feeling grateful for the opportunity. I am hoping that at least one of them will work and I can finally shake off this grouchiness.
I watch a lot of TV. A lot. And I’ll be honest, each time I read about how to increase your productivity you need to turn off the TV, I scoff a little. I’ve been watching a lot of TV since I was about 15 and I often can’t do work without it on. Well, in the name of 100% honesty, I will say that most of the time I am not actually watching the TV since I really use it for the noise. I am often processing photos, doing art, or some other recurring task at the same time. When I was in high school and college, I couldn’t do my homework unless the TV was on. And I dare someone to tell me that I am not productive. TV is not the problem. At least not for me.
Alas, this is not a post about TV and whether it will kill your productivity or not.
While I am not very selective about my subject matter and watch just about anything that’s on the air between 8-11, I do make one exception: reality TV. I don’t watch any reality TV. None at all.
When this genre first came to be popular, I watched a few of the shows but it didn’t take me long to realize that they were more focused on humiliation and drama than just about anything else. And I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t watch people’s worst sides being exposed again and again. Seeing them cry, be made fun of, or just outright humiliated was too much for me. I decided early on to give the whole genre up and have never looked back. (disclaimer: I am sure there are some truly good ones so please don’t take this as a judgement if you do indeed watch them, it’s just my personal opinion.)
After I wrote yesterday’s message, Ann commented: And as another of my friends says when other people’s chaos seems so urgent, “don’t just do something, sit there!” It’s amazing how often crazy-making people will move on to the next person on their emergency list if they don’t get an immediate drama-gratification from me. Of course, that means I don’t get to be their hero; instead I have to be my own hero. That’s substantially harder.
I’m not one of those people who slows down to watch when I see an accident on the road (unless they need help of course). I don’t try to get involved in other people’s drama. While I do also get curious sometimes, I try to stay out of gossip and negative talk. I’ve always tried to be good about this. Sometimes I failed and other times I was more successful.
But for 2012, I decided to make a more drastic change.
I’ve basically wiped out as much of the sarcasm, drama, and gossip out of my life as possible. I just decided that reading sites with negativity or sarcasm was adding to my overall discontented feeling. I’ve stopped reading super-depressing books. I’d already stopped watching the news a long time ago. I just feel like these were taking away from my life and not enhancing it in anyway. Maybe it’s because when I get into it, I am really involved, I deeply care and it ends up becoming a big part of my life. I’ve even been known to care and worry more than the original person.
So now I give it up.
This doesn’t mean a friend cannot come to me with a genuine grief or worry. Of course I am here for that. I am here to support everyone I love and care about. But I am no longer getting involved with the needless drama or gossip. In my life or online. I am trying to move away from people who favor drama and sarcasm. I am trying to focus more on positive and on the real people. I made a point to go through my RSS reader and cleared out a lot of blogs. I took my reading list and eliminated several titles.
I don’t know what it is about the spiral of drama that sucks people in but I just know it puts me in a bad place where I don’t like to be and it takes me away from being the best version of myself. So I’ve chosen to clear the noise around me.
And Ann’s right, of course, it’s hard being my own hero. But it also is so much more satisfying. And so much more worthwhile.
I had a really rough morning today. Last night, I ended up working much later than I’d hoped. There were some problems and I just didn’t want to wait until today to resolve them. It meant that I went to bed almost two hours later than I usually do. As it got later and later, I told myself not to stress and that I wouldn’t let this lack of sleep and mess up in routine get to me. Tomorrow would be just fine, I said.
Then tomorrow came. And all was ok. I woke up and exercised, journaled and even sketched. I woke up the kids, made lunch, breakfast and sat to read to David. I was feeling good and proud of myself for not letting stress and tiredness get to me. I’ve been calm for the last few days and it’s been so nice.
As we got ready to walk out the door, I realized that David had left his jacket at school. This might seem harmless to normal people but he’s done this so many times before and we’ve had so many talks about it that I just lost it. I went to that bad place and started seeing dark. We went to school, me ranting pretty much the whole time. Looked for the jacket, couldn’t find it, and then I left David and got in the car with Nathaniel.
At which point, I burst into tears. I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I felt terrible about the person I was being. About how much this was upsetting me. About how it really didn’t matter and couldn’t I just get over it already? I felt shame and frustration and anger and sadness all over me. I almost turned around several times to talk to David but he was well into classes now and I didn’t want to interrupt.I emailed the teacher when I got home and cried a bit more. (I did also apologize to David later when he came home.)
Then I decided I wanted to finish my sketch and try to ease my soul a bit. Then work blew up so I had to do that. While I was working feverishly, Nathaniel swallowed one of his peanuts the wrong way and coughed and coughed and finally threw up all over himself, the carpet, and me. Once he did and got over the shock of it, he was back to his happy self, so I cleaned the carpets and everywhere else.
We cleaned ourselves up, started a wash and I got back to work. About midday, I realized that for the last three days, I’ve been at this frantic pace where there are so many things going on that I cannot catch up no matter what I do. Every time I do one thing, I am thinking about this other thing I should be doing. I get stressed and end up not finishing any of my tasks. This is true of both work and personal projects. So now I have eleventeen (i like to use that when i mean many many) tasks that are halfway there and nothing done.
This is about as far away as you can get from my “happy place.” This is the opposite of savoring and being calm.
So I just decided I needed to take a big, long breath. I stepped back from the two computers and took a little walk around the room. I sat back down, closed my eyes and decided to show myself some self-compassion (I have a lot more to say about this some other time soon) and took a big breath. And then two more.
By then, Nathaniel was awake so I got him and as he played, I made two big todo lists. One for work and the other for personal. I wrote out everything I could think of. Everything on my mind. In detail. And then I got up again. I decided I needed a break. I played with Nathaniel for 30 minutes. Hugging him, holding his hand, remembering what matters most.
And now here I am. Trying to honor that breath. My plan is to go back to my lists and tackle them one at a time. If a new one arises, it gets tacked to the back of the list unless it’s super-urgent. I know I can complete all of this in the next 48 hours if I just stop freaking myself out. And whatever doesn’t get done, will do so next week. As it turns out, none of these are so urgent that it needs to put me into a frenzy.
The frenzy is not good.
So here I am, taking a breath. Forgiving myself for a hard day. Forgiving myself for not being my best. Forgiving myself for not being my kindest. Forgiving myself for not being at my most productive. Forgiving myself for being human. Making mistakes.
With this breath, I forgive and I let go of it all.
Then I get to start again. Whole.
This past weekend Jake went down to San Diego for a meeting. He sits on the board of a nonprofit down there and they had all-day meetings on Saturday. He drove down on Friday and spent the night at a good friend’s house. On Saturday morning, he called me on the way to the meetings and told me that our car had been broken into and two, relatively inexpensive, pieces of equipment were stolen. But of course the window was smashed and needed to be replaced.
My first instinct was to freak out.
My second instinct was to take control and tell him exactly what he needed to do.
My third instinct was to yell at him for leaving the car and going to the meeting anyway.
Thankfully, I did none of the above. I looked over at my kids as a reminder to myself that they were safe and sound. I told my husband, who also was obviously safe and sound, that I loved him and that I was sorry he had to go through this. And then I let him go.
I will admit that a little while later, I felt my anxiety increase. I called him back and asked him if they wouldn’t steal the car now that it had no window. I also told him I thought it was bad that he left to go to the meeting anyway. He was in the car with the woman who started the nonprofit and I could tell he was uncomfortable. I stopped myself and told him he was lucky his friend (with whom he’d stayed the night before) was helping him and to just keep me posted.
I then texted him once and then texted again apologizing and telling him that I was just worried and sad for him. I told him I loved him and hoped that it would work out.
After that, I opened my notebook and journaled for a whole page. I reminded myself to have faith in my husband and that things would get fixed even if I wasn’t the one to fix them. That’s the thing with type-a fixer people like me. We think our way is the only way things will get done.
And it’s not true.
Things can get done many ways. Things often do work out in the end. And if people like me don’t step in and take charge, other people step up and get it done. I reminded myself that I trusted and loved my husband and I truly had faith in him. And I really did feel really sad that he had to go through this alone when he was away. I wrote and wrote until I felt the rage and the worry leave my body.
I decided I was far away and couldn’t fix it personally. So, instead, I would just let it go and have faith things would work out.
And, of course, they did.
My husband’s friend helped him and he had a brand new window before he got back from his meetings. Then, his other friend helped him vacuum out the car so all the glass was out and the car was dry. So before Jake had to drive back North, the car was almost as good as new with relatively minimal loss and aggravation.
I realized that this was the perfect example of how everything that happens to you in life gives you an opportunity to learn and grow. I am grateful that it happened while I wasn’t there so I was forced to take a step back and work on myself and how I handle these situations. I am hoping that I can remember this next time something happens. Not that I hope anything happens but, you know, life always has ups and downs.
If nothing else, it was an exercise in learning to grow.
One of the things I noticed during the Soul Restoration I class and the several other soul-work classes is that many of my deep “issues” and worries are coming from events that occurred when I was younger than 12 years old. None of these events are “devastating” but, alas, they have shaped a lot of the things I’ve come to believe about myself.
A lot of the negative things.
The logical side of me finds this ridiculous. I’m now 37 years old, there’s absolutely no good reason I should cling to the moments I had over 25 years ago. I’ve seen been through several big and small milestones in my life. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I look, think, and feel differently now. I make different kinds of friends. I’ve had many major and minor milestones (both good and bad). So much has happened in the last 25 years that I am definitely not little girl anymore.
And yet. Inside I feel the same.
I can still remember the words that broke my heart and made me feel small. I still feel small in the exact same ways I did back then. I still lack faith in myself for the same areas in which I was criticized as a 10-year-old. Even though some of these facts about me have perceptibly changed and my mind can acknowledge that, the girl in my heart and soul doesn’t blink an eye. She’s still trapped in that twelve-year-old’s nightmare. Her lack of self esteem. Her lack of strength.
I find this incredibly frustrating. It feels like once I can acknowledge and pinpoint the issue, I should be able to get rid of it. I should be able to tell myself that those times have passed. I have new friends in my life and people who care about me deeply and people who depend on me, etc. etc. I am not that girl anymore.
And, yet. Somewhere inside of me, she still lives.
She still hurts, cowers and feels alone.
And I truly don’t know what to do about it. I want to kick her, lecture her, be kind to her, beg her. I go through all the phases at different times. I try to go through logic. And most of the time my 37-year-old self is in charge and can live a happy and fulfilled life. But, in those weak, rough moments, the little girl peeks out.
I’ve been thinking about how to help her. I’m going to have to teach that little girl about how life is right now. Show her affection and kindness and compassion so she can relearn from scratch. So she can create a new identity and self-image. One that’s not tied to memories from the early eighties. I’m not entirely sure how to do this but I do think some serious relearning is what she needs.
Maybe I start by writing down all she feels and tackle them one by one. Maybe if I am super patient with her, she will give me a chance.
I met with an acquaintance today partly because this person intimidates me and I was trying to break that barrier by getting to know her better. My hope was that we would find ways to bond and relate to each other and this connection would allow me to see her (and in return my response to her) in a different light.
Well, it didn’t work.
I left feeling empty. On the “good” side I’d found enough flaws in her to not feel intimidated. I realized several imperfections in her that maybe had not been so obvious to me previously. And I realized a bunch of other things that I find annoying. So maybe the intimidation is replaced by a different feeling now but it’s still not a good one. Not the one I was hoping for. The best way I can describe it was that it felt empty.
I thought about it for a long time afterwards and couldn’t put my finger on exactly what happened. Then, I realized that most of our talk was small talk. What I call “surface” conversations. Where you spend a bunch of time talking about nothing important. Agreeing, being politically correct, smiling but, in the end, saying nothing substantive.
This kind of interaction is not just non-ideal for me; it’s abhorrent. I cannot stand small talk. It’s a good thing I met my husband in college or I would not be able to date because of all the small talk it involves. This is the same reason I hate going to many social activities or reading blogs that talk about “nothing.” My husband’s great at small talk and I really admire his ability to do it, so I am not bashing small talk per se. Just saying I can’t do it. The whole time I am thinking of where else I’d rather be. Like reading a good book.
For me, spending time with a person is all about connecting. I guess it’s the same as my art. I need meaning. If it feels meaningless, I am not interested. I need to be engaged emotionally (ideally intellectually as well). I need to care. For me to care, there has to be meaning in the conversation.
I was reading Stephanie’s blog earlier and she does this new monthly challenge where you “blog your heart.” And while I love the idea of talking about the areas where you’re struggling or falling short, I think that’s not necessarily enough for me. That’s sort of what I realized today during my time with this woman. It became easy for me to see where she was falling short. I could suddenly see her shortcomings, worries around looking a certain way, etc. I even felt sorry for her for a minute when I realized it was so important to her to appear a certain way.
I wish we would do less judging for both good and bad. It feels nice to hear the “hard stuff” because it breaks down the walls of perfection we seem to create on behalf of other people. But while some people do maybe only share the good, the fact is we’re the ones looking for all the good. I know there are people in my life who struggle but also do well and I tend to focus on how well they do in areas where I struggle and I don’t even spend a moment thinking about their struggles. I just accentuate their good and measure it up against my bad. That’s *my* fault. Not theirs. So I like to hold myself responsible.
It’s human nature to want to hide your imperfections. It’s human nature to want to “look good.” But meaningful doesn’t have to be good or bad. It just has to be genuine. I feel just as much a connection when someone shares genuine joy with me. It’s the fake stuff I detest. And when we’re making a list of “rough stuff” I’ll admit the whole thing feels a bit fake to me. When you read someone else’s blog, do you really ever think they’re perfect? Have you ever met anyone who’s perfect? If you’re older than ten, you should already know no one (and I mean NO one) is perfect. It’s just not possible. Some people might be better than you are at certain things. But they have their own list of shortcomings, challenges, and grief. This is true across the board, bar NONE. So when you’re reading a blog and you feel “oh they are perfect” just remind yourself that they aren’t. They are just putting their best foot forward.
What I really wish is that even a five-minute cocktail conversation could be meaningful. I wish I could just say “Look I am not going to judge, I am not going to be jealous, I am here to connect. So be real. Tell me whatever you want to talk about. Don’t try to look a certain way for me. Be you. Whomever you are.” And then we could talk. Without fear, masks, fakeness.
Alas, I don’t know if it’s possible.
And I do know that often I do judge. Look how much I looked for the “wrong” in that woman this morning. Maybe because she was trying so hard to look good that I had to knock her down. To feel vindicated. But I don’t want to do that. I want her to feel supported. Know that I understand. That it’s hard. Life is hard. I get it. You have enough on your plate. You don’t have to worry about me. I am here without judgement. Open.
Can I be that, I wonder? And if so, how can I let the other person know? Can people connect meaningfully without years of friendship behind them?
A few weeks ago, I mentioned how David’s school has a regular Monday morning assembly where they talk about topics that change each time. David told me last week that he was going to be the class reporter for this week’s meeting so I decided both Jake and I should go be there to support him.
Despite some early morning chaos, we both made it there and it was clear that David was very happy to have us there. Before the class reporters, the main topic was presented. This morning’s topic was about the migration of the Monarch butterflies. And she talked about several amazing aspects of the butterfly and their migration across very large distances and how the great-grandchildren know exactly where to go and when by instinct even though the original family member butterflies are no longer around the guide them.
But the story that stuck with me the most was this one:
I am going to reword but it was about a man who found a butterfly right as it was coming out of its cocoon. He watched for a while as the butterfly struggled to come out and then it looked like the butterfly was stuck. He took a pair of scissors and gently cut the opening so the butterfly could come out. And it did. It had this big body and tiny wings. After a short while the butterfly died.
The man didn’t understand that the struggle of emerging is nature’s way of forcing blood out of the butterfly’s body and into the wings. The struggle is essential for the butterfly to live. If it does not struggle to emerge from the cocoon, fluid stays in the body, and the butterfly cannot survive.
And then when I came home, I read my daily email from the Ordinary Courage class and at the end was this one question:
What would happen if you tried on the perspective that your dark places are actually strange lights waiting to help you find a new way?
What if struggle is an essential part of survival? What if you have to go through the dark to live a full and extraordinary life? What if the darkness is what you need to travel through to get to the light on the other side and to be exactly who you’re meant to be? Without the struggle the butterfly didn’t even get to live. It never developed to what it needed to be to survive. What if this is also true for us? What if by avoiding the light we’re never growing the wings we need to have?
The homework email also has this quote:
The dark does not destroy the light; it defines it. It’s our fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows. — Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection
I am a firm believer that we need to face the dark. But I didn’t think too hard about going through the struggle before. I know there’s maturity in knowing when to walk away (this is very hard for me) and I do work hard despite struggles but I don’t always think that struggle is actually transforming me so I can be exactly who I need to be. I like that perspective.
I like idea that the struggles that seem inevitable in my life come with the gifts of making me the person I am meant to be.
After the wonderful talk, David did get to get up and represent his class and he was wonderful. He wasn’t nervous. He read clearly and enunciated well. We were both very proud of him and walked away grateful to live the kind of life that allowed us to share this experience with him.
One of my favorite poems as a teenager was Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost. I can almost recite it from memory. Here’s how it goes:
Nothing Gold Can Stay (by Robert Frost)
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
When I was younger, I always thought this was a terribly sad poem. Everything dies, life sucks. That’s pretty much how I interpreted it.
As I grow older, I am looking at it differently.
Yesterday was a frustrating day for me. I got upset about some small detail that went wrong in my day and as it tends to do, it threw off my mood for the day. Then, at night, I visited a friend who was sad. His reason was a lot more legitimate than mine (trust me.) I came home feeling sad for him and mad at me. This morning I woke up and while I was journaling I kept thinking about life and this poem.
The thing about life is that everything is ephemeral. Life changes. Constantly. With and without warning. Sometimes you’re the one instigating the change. Sometimes someone else is. Sometimes it’s a completely outside force. Sometimes it’s even bigger than that. And then there are things that change regularly. Days end. Months, years. Kids grow up. People get old. Seasons end. Change is around us constantly. Things that seem set in stone, never are.
I think that’s the reason some big, unexpected change throws us off course so much, it’s a reminder that the ground you’re on is not as solid as you might think it is. The life you built isn’t indestructible.
And while this feels scary on some scale, to me it’s also a relief. If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that things will change. And I know that I can’t even begin to predict the extent and size of these changes.
The other thing I know is that life is pretty great now. I am very blessed in big ways. I have a wonderful husband and kids who are nothing short of miracles. I have a job I am proud of and a home I love. All of us are healthy. Including me, and I am getting healthier each day.
Of course, there are a million little things that go wrong all the time and things I want, wish for, desire, etc. But most of life is amazing. Right at this moment. And it might all change tomorrow. Let me correct that, it will all change tomorrow. It might be better or worse or just different.
But this poem is a reminder that things will change. Things will end. And at the same time, right now things are gold. There are wonderful things happening in my life. As life is so ephemeral and fragile, I need to pay more attention to those things. I need to be in this moment more. I need to be really aware and present. This very moment is here right now and it’s great.
If you noticed in my vision board from yesterday, I have a quote there that says “If you’re always racing to the next moment, what happens to the one you’re in?” And this is something I need to work on again and again.
Being present and being grateful.
The thing is nothing gold does stay. But if we take it for granted and don’t appreciate the gold while it’s here, we’re missing out on the best moments of our life. And when the going gets tough, which it invariably will at some time, we will need these gold moments to get us through those not-so-great ones.
As I journaled about my bad day, I realized how much can change in just 24 hours. How my perspective changed and the specific problem that frustrated me actually went away. I wasted an entire golden day on some stupid frustration. The talk with my friend was a wake-up call that things are ephemeral and these golden days are not guaranteed so I cannot waste them with idle frustration. My goal is to remember this more. And make a point of basking in the glory of the golden moments while they are here.
Here’s to being more present and being more grateful.
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projects for twenty twenty-four
projects for twenty twenty-three
projects for twenty twenty-two
projects for twenty twenty-one
projects for twenty nineteen
projects for twenty eighteen
projects from twenty seventeen
monthly projects from previous years
some of my previous projects
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