Choose to Dance

Do you ever have those days when you just don't know what to do with yourself?

When it seems impossible to enjoy your "free time" because no matter what you do, you still just feel.....unsettled?

It happens to me more often than I care to admit.

And it only happens when I have free time.  Only when it's just me managing what to do with my own time.

And I find it kind of hard to explain.

It's like on the inside, I'm just free floating and grasping at nothing.

On the outside, I often wonder aimlessly through the house trying to find something "meaningful" to do.

It's like I'm a spinning top, and I just want to land somewhere and feel like I'm in control again.

It's a feeling of great struggle; of great conflict.

It feels like a battle is being waged inside my mind.

Even that doesn't seem like the proper explanation.

It's just so.....uncomfortable; I usually spend these days being really on edge and grumpy.

Like no matter what I do, I can't enjoy it.  No matter what I do, I feel useless.

So I found myself having one of these days this week, 

but something different happened.

Normally these days are spent in my head, trying to analyze this "problem" to death; trying to find a road map out of this internal misery.

The question asked is usually "Why do I feel like this?"

But on this particular day I asked a different question: "Why do I feel like I have to escape this?"

I realized that the real misery came from not just the discomfort, but the expectation that I should somehow whip this discomfort into shape!

I found myself questioning: "What if the whole reason I feel this way in the first place is to learn to dance with this feeling instead of always trying to fight it?"

I can't say that the day got all that much easier, but it did bear a different weight within me.

Suddenly the struggle had meaning.  When I approached it as if I had something to learn instead of something to be rid of, I was able to view it differently.

Then it didn't feel so miserable.  Still uncomfortable, yes, but not so miserable.

My hope is that the next time I'm faced with this same ol' internal conflict, instead of fighting, I, again, choose to dance.

Collage of a Different Kind

I just want to touch on a new interest for me: black out poetry.

I've never liked poems for the sake of poetry.  I've definitely read some poems that I like, but unlike some, I am not in love with the genre.

However, these black out and cut out poems I keep seeing actually make me feel something every time.

They've been brought to my attention lately, mostly because I've got a good friend who has been dabbling with the form.

I think they may appeal to me as much as they do because they are their own form of collage.

And much like the way I approach making a collage, this type of poetry is self-revealing in that you look at a page of words and pick the ones that draw you in.

In light of this, I have made three recently that I'd like to share here.  

The first two showed themselves to me when I picked up a free copy of Erewhon by Samuel Butler.

I opened the book and pages 54 and 55 each showed me a poem right away.

While I think the fully blacked out page would have more effect, I currently only have the pages unfinished- the words carefully chosen with black marker.

They read as follows:

Page 54

"Upset"

I leaned over so far

the ground was too much for me

I had no more control

hurry and noise and upset

I found myself not more than fortunate

which was when I found a little less swag

outside

I had gained difficulties

for having done some good

which was insufficient from how useful I was

............................................................................................

Page 55

"Blasphemy"

loser to the Christian religion

embraced outwardly

stupid nature of the Trinity

original sin the grandson of nothing

father Church sufficiently qualified for the task

an eternity of torture

that he should hide a multitude of sins

irregularities and shortcomings

the remembrance unpleasant

............................................................................................

The last one is technically a cut out poem, but it is formed in the same way.  I took inspiration from this same friend to work it into one of my collages.

It reads:

we must see our feelings as they actually are,

not as we assume they are.

winds of Reality carry away negative feelings within yourself.

I find we must dare to ask

and the answer awakens the intuitive self

to see that there is no such thing as 

a single negativity in a man.

..........................................................................................................

And there ya have it.

I encourage you to play around with this art form.  I find what it reveals is oh-so-therapeutic. 

Until next time......

Our Own Stories

I find myself awake at 5am, full of thoughts.  At first I think I'll fall back asleep; then I realize that I'm only gaining momentum.

Now I'm sitting here, in the pale light of the morning, listening to bird songs, while the screen of this computer lights up this small space where I like to type.

My thoughts were circling around a conversation I had with  a friend and co-worker yesterday.

I'm hoping I can put words on the screen that will express the deep feelings I have on this topic.

There has been some tension around what I feel are wildly miscommunicated feelings at work here lately.

I've seen two people- people I admire and respect- go head to head on multiple occasions. 

I've heard both sides of the story, and find each of their views have some validation.

I find that I know enough about each to see the conflict lies in the stories they tell themselves about not only who they are, but how they expect to be treated by others.

The part of me that is always trying to "see" people, to understand the deeper why of a person's actions and reactions, has really been put in the hot seat as of late.

Or, maybe, what I mean, is it has been called to the forefront.

I just keep thinking of how we all carry baggage, seen or unseen; and how we, too, all carry divine light within us.

None of us is all darkness.  None of us is all light.

And I'm seeing, truly, the impact of the stories we tell ourselves.

Sometimes I wonder if people realize how much they reveal of themselves

in the stories they tell.

You know, I heard Eric Barker say that therapists basically help people change the stories they tell themselves.

I had an inward laugh as I thought "I guess I'm a therapist at heart," because I often find myself, almost desperately, wanting people to change their stories.

Or, really, to just expand on what it is they see.  To step outside of emotion, of labeling the situation as "good" or "bad" and to just see it as it is.

I always find myself, in the midst of conflict, trying to get someone to see past the hurt they feel from a person, and into what that person is also wrestling with.

Often times, when we hurt others, or are hurt by others, it is my belief that it isn't always personal.

Sometimes people are so entrenched within their own hurting that they don't even realize the impact it is having on the people around them.

Sometimes it is literally just another person's reaction to shame triggering our own reaction to shame.

Often shame begets shame begets shame.

And it is so much easier to numb out, and to see ourselves as victims; and yet, it only spirals out and makes things more difficult.

There is this really great Maya Angelou quote that goes:

"If you don't like something, change it.  If you can't change it, change your attitude."

Besides just walking away, I think that these are really ever the only two options we have.

And still I see people beating their heads against a wall, wishing instead, things would just change for them.

(I do not exclude myself from this category.)

And I see how this never fixes anything.

So I find myself, more than ever, wondering how people can be helped to heal.  Because it is the wounds and the baggage we carry around with us that creates these narratives.

How can people find ways to break free from these stories we tell ourselves?  These stories that keep us stuck in the bog of, truly, disillusionment?

I find myself, more than ever, wanting to help.

And, ironically, I find I have my own stories that I need to be rewritten. 

Stories that tell me that I'm not good enough at this to be part of the solutions.  Stories that tell me I'm scared to be "seen."

Stories that tell me no one will take me seriously; that no one would ever listen to me.

So I don't pretend to be immune. 

In fact, I think the fact that I am aware of it within myself is why it feels so important to me when I see someone else struggle with it.

And I realize that expanding awareness is so so important to me.

I think it may possibly be my life's goal to become as aware of as many things about the human condition- about my own condition- as possible.

I have heard, on multiple occasions here lately, some very wise people say that shame and insecurities are always with us.  No one is immune.

So the best thing we can do is not to try to get rid of them.  The best thing we can do is to become so aware of them, that when they show up, we say, "Ah, I see you shame.  I know that's you talking again."

Another thing that I've also heard from several of the "wise ones" here lately is that shame only exists in secrecy.  That once you speak it, it loses power.

And I get that.  In a way, I've been trying to speak shame out of existence most of my life without ever realizing it.

Now I know why it is so good to "confess" my insecurities- haha!

Now, with these early morning ramblings winding to a close, I leave you with two videos- shared with me by a dear friend- that have spoken strongly to me on the topics I wrote about today.

Somewhere in the latter portion of this video you'll hear this guy speak on what I said about shame and secrecy.

In this video you'll hear this guy talk about the stories we tell ourselves and how impactful that can be on how we live our lives.

So, what stories do you tell yourself?  What impact do you think they have on how you live?

Practice Makes Perfect(ish)

So the topic of the week for me is shame.

Ask, and ye shall receive.

I've been obsessed with the work of Brené Brown for about two weeks now.

A lot of her research deals in shame.

It is no surprise that, as I've used a lot of my spare time delving into finding every interview/talk of hers that I can find, my own shame has been shown to be over and over again in the last few weeks.

When it first became apparent to me, it started as just about any shame does: anger at the one who "made me" feel it.

I processed through that for a few good days.  Remember? I wrote about it.

I finally came to the conclusion that it was, indeed, my own shame being shown to me.

I decided that I would look at it as practice.

I mean, in a sense, a lot of life is- right?

So I say to myself, "Don't take it so hard, champ.  You'll never be able to change your approach without practice.  Practice is a good thing."

And boy have I had a lot of practice these last few weeks.

It certainly hasn't made perfect, but then again, I haven't been practicing very long.

I doubt it will ever really be "perfect," and I think the real goal is just being ok with that.

It's hard to train yourself not to have a knee jerk reaction to shame.  You can prepare all you want, but it's called a knee jerk reaction for a reason, right?

So, for now, I know the best thing I can do is to just keep loving myself; to just keep reminding myself that we are all perfectly imperfect; and more than anything, to be patient with myself.

Just because I know a thing, does not mean I instantly have it mastered.

I think it'll do me some good to just keep reminding myself of that.

I'm so thankful to have friends with whom I can discuss these things with.  Friends, who, when I show them all the shame I have, they give no judgement back.

Friends, who, with their very presence, remind me that I can give myself the same allowances I give others.  That I don't have to always expect so much of myself (which just creates more shame in the first place).

So a shout out to my merry mermaid making buddies (for mermaidy things we did create today!)- you know who you are ♥

Now, in leaving off where I began, please enjoy this talk by the one and only Brené Brown on Why Your Critics Aren't The Ones Who Count.

Craving Rain

Whelp, it's not even the Summer Solstice yet, but it's already happened:

The Fall Longing.

It's only happened once, but it's happened!

I've also been really craving rainy/thunderstorm days.

I didn't realize just how much until the other day.

It had started storming while I was cleaning the house.  I quickly became inspired to make a rainy day playlist*.

*Except in my world that sounds too boring, so of course I named it something pretentious like "Sink into Precipitation"......

It wasn't until it stopped and the sun started to come back out, and I realized I was kinda bummed about it-haha!

I feel like a good thunder storm just makes you feel like the whole world is offering you a good excuse to just
                                                               sit,
                                                                   sink,
                                                                       and slow down.

Then there's the comforting rumble of the thunder (as a good friend pointed out to me). 

And, for some reason not entirely known to me, it always feels like there is some kind of adventure waiting to begin.

Give me my hoody, a blanket, and a good movie that kinda mimics the mood, and I. Am. Set!

(For Flora and me, yesterday's thunderstorm was accompanied by Jumanji.)

Ya know, I used to wonder over which was my favorite season- Spring or Fall?

As of right now, I'm pretty dang sure it's Fall.

Spring's new awakening plants, and that smell of petrichore, surely have their merits;

but there is something about Fall's invitation to slow down, to notice, to see a different kind of change, that is just so dang comforting.

I definitely found a deeper appreciation for Winter this last year, as well.

Again, I didn't even realize how deep I'd sunk into it's comforts until I found myself wishing that Spring would hold just off

just a little longer.

I just didn't feel ready to give up the solace of solitude I found in the muted landscape on my ride to work in the mornings.

And as it has gotten deeper into these warmer/hotter months, I feel myself slowing down in a way that isn't quite as invigorating as it was in the colder months.

And, oddly, I'm ok with it.  I think because I realize it as just being part of my own yearly cycle.

It's like, in seeing my response to the changing seasons, I'm seeing some map of myself being laid out for me.

And if anything gives me a natural high, it's seeing and analyzing "new" parts of myself- haha!

So I'll end with a curiosity question:

How about you?  What is your favorite sesason?  Why?

Moment of Clarity

/Stillness/

Sometimes it hits me just how hard being human is.

And some days

- they're really rare-

but some days, I can actually see the beauty in the struggle.

And even though it doesn't happen often- or maybe just not as often as I'd like-

the acknowledgement of it makes me feel so.....

I'm not sure of the word to use....

complete   and    full    and     whole

that it makes me want to come back again.

And the Beat Goes.....

I find it super hilarious that just last week I was excitedly typing about how I'd integrated the whole bearing witness thing, and it felt so liberating, and whoo yeah go me!......

Only to have it seriously challenged this weekend-ha!

That's how it goes, though, right?!

Like, the lesson is never really over!

The patterns are still there!

Lemme just say, that when I say that I was challenged, what I mean is that I have had several days worth of processing to do.

Several.

Without too much detail, I fell into the pattern where I go into what I'm going to call "avoidance/survival mode."

It's when I, almost unaware, just kinda bend over backwards to accommodate whatever difficult personality is in the room.

I always feel super shitty afterwards, and I usually get really pissed at whoever triggered it.

I find myself with a litany of repeated scenarios in my head of what I could have said here, or what it would have went like if I'd said this over there when this thing happened.

So I find myself with this person and I can't seem to get them out of my head all the rest of the night and into the next day.

Finally, I'm like "Ok, seriously.  What happened here?"

I thought of Dr. Shefali saying, "Life doesn't happen to us, it happens for us."

So I'm like, "Alright, how does that apply here?  What am I really upset about?  And what does that tell me?"

Well, it turns out I was upset that this is still my go to pattern when in a difficult situation.

Yeah, yeah-- I can also pin point all the stinging remarks made;

and I can still feel myself really wanting to, like, neck swivel and say how annoying that person was;

and I can totally  remember and recount word for word for you all the annoying-ass things they said.

But it really comes down to the fact that I feel like I failed myself. 

I let myself walk into that position of being belittled- of being less than worthy to speak my mind.

I let, and even accommodated that person in having total control of the whole evening.

And it was all out of avoidance.

I'm still an avoider!

Dammit!

Oh, well.  I see it now.  I suppose it takes a lot of prep and practice not to be that way for me.

So instead of being so damn mad that I then give this person further control (over my thoughts and general emotional space), I'm going to say,


"Good to know."


And so here I am.  I reeeeeally didn't feel like writing today.  Again.

Then I remembered that this whole thing is a practice.  That was the whole point of it. 

Not to make some supremely value-loaded blog.

Not to ensure that I give my "wisdom" to those reading.

So I find myself thinking, "Why all the pressure?"  I guess it's easy to get caught up in that space.

It's funny how comparing yourself sneaks up on you like that. 

Because that's what it was.

I was comparing myself to the blogs that I enjoy reading.  Which totally are suprememly value-loaded ( in my humble opinion.)  

And thinking that's what I needed to provide should I choose to sit down in front of the screen.

And it definitely does make a difference knowing people are reading.

But no.  This is for me. 

Of course I love the idea of this being a connecting point. 

Of course I love the idea that I might actually have some wisdom to share.

But if I don't, who cares?!  Really?!  I'm still gonna sit my ass down and write!  Every damn week!

Aha!  Another lesson!

Also, what really hit me

-and let me just say that writing this blog was not the only thing on my 'to-do' list today-

was when I realized that there is a difference between when I really do need to step back and let myself stand still;

and when I am literally trying to force everything to stand still for me.

Usually it's just because I don't feel like moving forward.

Today would have been one where I was forcing it.  I could tell. 

I could tell that if I just sat around and tried to do nothing that it would not be healthy for me.

I can't tell you how many days I haven't listened to the part of me that knows that difference.

So I dare say, that despite the extreme mental and emotional discomfort that one afternoon brought,

it wasn't for nothing.

Thank goodness!

So how about you?  .

Do you ever wish the world would just stand still for you?

What patterns/weaknesses do you hate to face?

What do you do when you're faced with them?