Posted on Feb 16, 2021
We have just passed the “marker” of February: Valentine’s Day (appropriately, to me, coupled in some regions with a version of Family Day). In true “Universe” style, not so subtle hints were sent my way via reading material, client comments, social media feeds, and colleague-friends by what they were posting. The loud-and-clear message: time to focus on self-love. Let me clarify that self-love is different from selfishness. A person can participate in self-love and be obnoxious about it. It can also be what undergirds quiet confidence. Selfishness is total disregard for others. Few of us who struggle with self-love, and its companion self-care, can claim total disregard for others. More often than not, we are over-focused on others and under appreciate our Selves.
Hence why I like to replace tainted buzz words like self-love and self-esteem with self-regard or self-appreciation. This I can understand in that I am prone to give little regard to my Self (or my body) and/or not appreciate my Self (and my body). I wish my conditioning wasn’t so difficult to break in this area. Sadly, it is challenging for all of us, particularly women, who have been bombarded with messages of “not good enough” our entire lives. It is very insidious and pervasive. Like a disease run rampant and unchecked.
I noticed a significant difference when I began filtering out social media advertisements for weight loss. A person thinks they can ignore subtle messages by scrolling past; but somehow it makes its way into the psyche, burrowing into nooks and crannies, lying undetected until a heaviness settles sets in that one can’t seem to define. Like a dense fog that doesn’t lift. Where’s the sunshine to burn away the laden clouds?
How this ties in with Valentine’s Day was the reminder that this occasion was an opportunity to practice loving oneself (not just those we care about). I have come a long way in caring for my psyche, my mental health, and overall sense of well being. Where I struggle is in loving my body. My body which has never done a thing in its existence to harm me. Rather the opposite. My body takes very good care of me. To quote Susan Moses in The Art of Dressing Curves:
“Through it all, your body has been there for you. It has never stopped breathing. It has picked you up when you have fallen. It healed when you were hurt or ill. It accepted your strengths and weaknesses and carried you no matter the numbers on the scale. It’s time to respect your body for all the incredible things it does for you every day without hesitation. It’s time to be able to walk by a mirror and look at your body with pride and speak to it with love and kindness…Your body deserves to be loved in the way it has loved you unquestionably all of your life…Too often the ways of the world make it difficult to appreciate your unique attributes, especially your curves. But in reality, the world has nothing to do with it. It’s time to stand tall, look in the mirror, and acknowledge your beauty, value, and humanity with pride.”
Susan Moses, “The Art of Dressing Curves,” 2016, p. 26.
That was from the chapter entitled Body Talk. And I have recommitted myself to what I am coining, Body Love. I love my body (no, that was not easy to type, still a work in progress). It does all sorts of things for me, most notably, keep me alive. My body is more committed to well-being than I am. I tend to focus on the “practical” side of well-being (taking medications and supplements, pacing my energy, monitoring mood and thought patterns); but I am new to the practice of Body Love. So far, I must say, the positive results have been surprising.
My body size and shape remain what they are. No miracle cure for muffin top, love handles, back fat, stomach overhang, bodacious booty, or bustling bust. I am still concerned about those things from both a vanity angle and physical well being (where do these “extra” body bits come from?). But I am attempting to do so from the mindfulness approach of nonjudgemental acceptance.
Those are extra bits of body I never had before (except for the bodacious booty; that’s always haunted my backside). However they came to be (hush health fanatics and judgmental thoughts, diet and exercise and self-discipline are not the culprits), I must accept their existence. I can’t wish them away. Nor can I obsessively/compulsively starve myself or exercise myself to death. I have tried both those things. Probably why I have the extra bits I do. My body lovingly thought I needed “extra” to get me through famine, pestilence, and a plague of angry beasts chasing me down.
The point is: my body serves me well. I, on the other hand, do not serve it well. Other than I try to eat with wellness in mind and move it around on a regular basis—usually with dogs in fresh air (or the physicality required to renovate an old fixer-upper house). I throw a lot of shade at my body (hopefully using that colloquialism correctly) which it doesn’t deserve. By practicing Body Love, I am becoming comfortable in my own skin (and dare I say it, generous covering of fatty tissue) which creates new neuronal pathways in my brain leading to increased mental health. My overall sense of wellness improves with Body Love.
What does body love look like? It’s as simple as sending kind and loving thoughts (words of appreciation) to your body parts as you wash them in the shower/bath or apply lotion. Dress with nonjudgmental acceptance. Look in the mirror and appreciate the female form which comes in all shapes and sizes. Consider how you want to present your whole Self to the world—not just in clothing and accessory options, but also by attitude. Set yourself up for success instead of the usual self-sabotage.
I have noticed an improvement by turning around my pandemic-induced laissez-faire mindset toward Body-Love and Self-Regard. I have to look at myself and live with myself. I can do so in comfort without sacrificing my sense of self, style, and well-being. I deserve to look at someone who takes care of her Self: body, mind, and soul.
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Posted on Oct 29, 2019
The other day I was asked a very simple question. Which in the moment, I answered quickly and equally simply. But upon further reflection, I realized my glib response was just the tip of the iceberg. It was a truthful answer; but little did I know the depths my response represented.
The question was simply, Why did you do that? My response:
because I was frustrated. End of conversation with the inquirer—but not in my
head. I had made an imprudent and impulsive choice which subsequently required
the aid of the questioner. And a very fair question given the circumstances.
I am not prone to impulsivity; but evidently my frustration got the better of me. Hence the prolonged conversation in my head. Why did I make that particular decision given the context? The answer surprised me—old entrenched patterns. I reverted to worrying about someone else’s opinion (mind reading) rather than focusing on the real situation at hand. Had I stayed the course (not distracted by the perceived thoughts of others), I would have spared myself and the person who came to my aid (the poser of said question) a lot of hassle. Ironically, it was the imagined criticisms of the questioner that waylaid us further. I got frustrated with that perceived pressure along with the slow progress I was making that led to the question, Why did you do that?
So I was frustrated initially with my slow progress. But later I realized my frustration was compounded by the albeit incorrect belief that someone was impatiently waiting for me and already questioning my choices long before the question was actually verbalized. And now I ask, in my ramblings have I lost you?
Suffice to say I fell into a common thinking error or trap: mind reading—where we assume we know what others are thinking and make our choices based upon imaginary input. I have lived most of my life anticipating criticism and trying to avoid it. Obviously there must have been some sort of success rate to reinforce this behaviour. But there has also been much unnecessary heartache, suffering, anxiety, and trouble because of it.
I can make excuses like time pressures, stress, etc. All valid factors, but in reality I forgot to practice mindfulness—paying attention to the present moment without judgement. In a nutshell, I lost myself. My inner compass went off course. I slid into default mode—people pleasing. This default mode can appear harmless—even masquerade as a redeeming quality—but it isn’t healthy and in fact can be quite harmful.
Fortunately this most recent situation resulted in embarrassment
and inconvenience. But my people pleasing tendencies have gotten me into much
trickier situations. It’s like I get tunnel vision and can no longer see the
big picture. If only there was a way to zoom out to interrupt default mode
before making harmful decisions. However, on the bright side, I’m learning how
to be mindfully present—keeping my inner compass on course and grounded in
reality—which prevents many of these awkward situations I tend to find myself
in. Hence the conundrum of self-discovery: holding the unhealthy pattern in
tension with celebrating the successes.
There definitely is a theme in my life lessons: putting others first at all costs. And sometimes those costs are quite high; but without the costs there wouldn’t be lessons. And without celebration of success, there isn’t reinforcement of lessons learned.The challenge of countering people pleasing, criticism avoidance, and the need for mind reading, is that one has to start putting oneself first—or at least on par with everyone else. That’s hard to do because it requires resetting one’s inner compass. The “north star” that guides all processes has to be adjusted.
Kind of like all those settings in our newfangled, digital gadgets. We have to set the parameters for our devices to function optimally for our particular preferences. But don’t get me started on setting up my new internet connection and “smart” television! That was an obstacle course I don’t wish to repeat.
Now hopefully I’ll remember all those dang passwords and security codes. Word of advice: never over think or over simplify! 🙂
“I am not lost, I am just working out my way, no longer following the signposts outside but instead following the compass within me.” ~S.C. Lourie
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Posted on Dec 23, 2018
Something I do to relax, unwind, de-stress (with not enough regularity) is to submerse myself in a tub of sudsy, hot water until my ears are submerged, leaving the rest of my face above the water. This acts as a decompression chamber for me. Once I slow my mind, its noise subsides; and all I can hear is my breathing and my heart beating.
When I can focus my attention on these two things: breaths and heartbeats—a “surreality” sets in. Everything floats away. It is just me, as au naturel as it gets. Lungs and heart doing their thing. My body in perfect harmony. No interruptions or distractions. Having a total in-my-body experience. As a woman, this is a close as it gets to emptying my mind. A limited shut off button, or a reset button, if you will.
No. The cares of the world haven’t changed significantly once I emerge from my water chamber, but I have. I feel reborn in an inexplicable way. I am not the same person who entered the chamber. Just as with any reboot, the operating system doesn’t restart exactly as before. A reconfiguration takes place.
That is what it is like when I give my brain a break by having an in-my-body water experience. I am held in place by space and time (and the solid support of a bathtub) sufficiently that I can completely relax, enough to “float” and concentrate on the essence of Life: breaths and beats.
I also peruse any manner of reading material before or after decompression. For this entry, I will share with you the words of a poet.
Giver of life, giver of breath
You, the mystery in our breath
the light in our breath
the breath of our breath
You who are life
without whom there is no life
in whom there is no death…
We desire, in our bodies
in our hearts, in our souls
and between us
and between all breathing beings
a harmony like the harmony
of the stars and planets
shining and whirling for Your sake
a music
like the music of the spheres
~from “Supplication” by Pir Zia Inayat-khar published in Presence. Vol. 21. No. 4. December 2015.
Such poetic words about breath and breathing! The only time I give my own breaths a chance to be even remotely poetic would be in my decompression chamber. Somehow that which is the very function of every day life becomes soothing when heard under water—with only the steady drumbeat of my heart to accompany the rhythm.
Music. The music of my body. My body in perfect harmony.
For those briefest of moments, there is total absence of chaos. Pure serenity. Very rare in this day and age—and at this time of year.
How will you find serenity—your own version of peace—this holiday season? If I may offer a suggestion, maybe take a stolen moment to savour the words of the above poem? Let the words trip over your tongue, tickling your imagination, your breath connecting you to every other breathing being, connecting to the harmony we crave this season.
May the winds of change—the true essence of this time of year on so many levels—refresh your spirit for the coming year.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in
~Leonard Cohen
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Posted on Aug 6, 2018
Life is “funny,” ain’t it? I was full of ideas for my July blog. And then I hit a slump. Not writer’s block. A full blown bout of depression. What I usually refer to as a low. And at its lowest, hung on for a few days. Try as I might, I couldn’t shake it; nor could I reach its source.
Forcing myself through the usual coping strategies, the best I could ascertain was the link between powerless and depression. Being “in limbo” in my life—strung between yet-to-be severed connections to my old life and yet-to-be-made breakthroughs into my new life—keeps me stuck—and feeling powerless to move forward. I cannot control the past connections anymore than I can force things to go my way for my future. I hate that feeling. More accurately, I hate waiting. I must wait to deal with my past. And I must wait for things to fall into place for my future. I can control neither. I must be patient. And I must trust. Not my strong suits.
In a nutshell, I am once again faced with my old “demons” of never feeling/having safety, security, or stability in my life. I must provide it for myself; and when my efforts are thwarted, hang on to Trust that things will come together to carry me through. I think facing my fears of once again living on my own were a walk in the park compared to having to trust.
In my past life, I had hard-earned financial stability—but it came with strings attached—so it didn’t feel so secure to me. And being well-acquainted with the rickety low-income lifestyle since childhood, financial security is not something I readily rely upon. Add to that, between external criticism and my inner critic, I have struggled with insecurity issues my entire life. Professionally, it took many years (nearly a decade) to gain confidence in my innate and acquired abilities. Personally, it has taken even more effort, time, and courage to trust my closest friends, and to lean on those friendships to get me through my most challenging moments.
So when I am faced with situations that require waiting, my anxiety and depression flare up. Yes, I have control issues. Which are always based in anxiety. And I am well aware I am in good company with other self-professed “Control Freaks.” We have a low (or no) tolerance for uncertainty, the unknown. We like to have our ducks in a row so that we can prepare for any eventuality. Essentially, anxiety and control are ways we try to prevent bad things from happening. But we can’t. Shit happens no matter what. Life throws us curve balls regardless of how well-prepared we think we are to handle any eventuality.
Yet again I am faced with letting go of the angst…and to trust. Trust that the Universe won’t abandon me. Ooh, that’s a tough one. Trust that I am only responsible for one day at a time. Sometimes one moment at a time. Trust that I won’t end up penniless or homeless. Trust that any challenge also comes with a solution.
It was back to the basics for me. Remembering what I do have power over versus the powerless of not being able to control outcomes. Plus a reality check of my worst case scenarios and my anxieties (biggest one: not being able to live within my meager means). Fortunately I have solid folks who help with the reality check—reminding me that for this month, everything is taken care of. No need to worry about next month; it will take care of itself. But my obsession with independence sometimes trips me up. I want to be self-sufficient without any loose ends. I don’t want to depend upon others—and that being the back-up plan never sits right with me. At its core, my need for control is my fear of rejection/abandonment/betrayal. Trust opens me up to the risk of others failing to be there for me. I hyper focus on sufficiency—just in case things go sideways—which means I don’t leave room for things to work out with supports that are already in place. I fail to live in the moment.
I have a tendency of spending too much time in my past trying to figure things out, or in the unforeseen future, trying to prevent or prepare for the worst. In accepting that risk, I must make a conscious choice to live in the present. Sometimes reeling myself all the way in, to this very moment—not just the day, the week, the month, or the year—by practicing mindfulness. Paying attention to my surroundings and my thoughts without judgment or analysis. Not easy for a supremely analytical brain that earns a living by connecting the dots for other people.
Sometimes I have to accept that there are dots that have yet to connect. And trust that they will connect on their own, all in good time. Oddly enough, the antidotes to my anxiety and depression lie in the acceptance of my limitations: Trust. Patience. Hope. All of which have no limits.
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Posted on Mar 20, 2018
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
~ Haruki Murakami
It’s been a stormy couple of weeks…with a lot to process. The purpose of processing? To learn the lessons presented by the various challenges. I’ve discovered that I function on auto-pilot much of the time; especially when it comes to interacting with people. And then my brain analyzes those interactions on a continual playback loop, like a mental video on repeat. Takes a bit of effort to stop that playbook loop at times. Particularly if it’s a confusing situation or involves a power imbalance. This time I had to slow the loop right down rather than force an abrupt stop.
I don’t respond well when intimidated—even less so when it is intentional intimidation—such as when someone is condescending and supercilious. We all know those scenarios when someone tries to put us in our place or make us feel at a disadvantage. My latest experience with a “power broker” prompted much analysis. No matter what I tried to stop the obsessive thinking, my loop kept playing until I figured out the lesson: I need to honour my gut instinct and intuition. What I “sense” is as important as what I taste, see, smell, touch, and hear. Like most sensitive people and empaths, I grew up with the messages that I was reading into things, being over-sensitive/-reactive, needing to give the benefit of the doubt. In sum, to second guess and not trust mySelf; which leads to putting myself in harm’s way, be taken advantage of, take one on the chin.
I have learned to minimize and doubt what I sense or intuit without even thinking about it. I may get defensive without understanding why; and thus react reflexively because I haven’t process the incoming “sensed” data. Conversations can become confusing and veer off in unexpected directions. Leaving me distressed and uncomfortable. To add to the misery, even that sensation gets minimized automatically. And then the constant playback loop starts because I screwed up somehow and need to figure it out to protect myself from potential future interaction failures.
So. While I am confused and obsessing, I have to defy my auto-pilot—fumbling for the override switch while in crisis mode. It is one thing to be mindful and present when in a calm state (such as part of daily routine), or in slightly elevated states (like waiting in line or for an appointment); but it is quite another thing to be mindful when under duress—as the brain and body has a finely-tuned coping response that is engaged subconsciously. I am still learning how to override the “stress auto-pilot.” Basically, it is a version of “freeze mode”—or playing dead. I don’t tend to fight or flee when stressed. I shut down. I turn inward. I assume I am doing (or being) something wrong.
Hence, I need to keep retraining my brain. Prompting my amygdala to rely on a fourth option instead of fight, flight, or freeze. I have to find that override switch before I encounter perceived threats. So that when my amygdala fires up and engages the engine light of my brain, I am ready to read the incoming data. Data that is nearly imperceptible: the tone of voice, choice of words, eye movement, gestures, energy shifts, a “sense.” If I feel uncomfortable, I need to pay attention. Acknowledge the sensation. Take it seriously, for what it is. If I sense something is off, it is off. Then I can choose what to do next. I don’t have to wait for the conversation to end or attempt to anticipate the next move. I can acknowledge this isn’t working for me and ask myself what to do/say next without being rude, aggressive, or defensive. Sometimes it is as simple as making a mental adjustment without any obvious outward change.
I have such a long way to go in reclaiming my power. I am so conditioned to giving up my power for the greater good, to keep the peace, that I fail to own it before routinely relinquishing it. I need to own who I am and my complete sensory intake. Once I can be mindful of every experience, I can move on to speaking up about what I perceive. Tactfully, of course. That will take much more practice and likely an increase of obsessive playback loops analyzing my every thought and action. But I will get there.
I have many more storms to brave yet. For that’s what life really is all about, isn’t it? Learning how to journey through storms. We certainly can’t avoid them—as much as we waste energy trying to do just that. Life is all about the storms with the odd break in the weather. And my storm detection equipment needs tweaking—not to avoid them, but to prepare more effectively.
I will keep meeting challenges, learning the lessons, and practicing the skills. In the words of Louisa May Alcott,
“I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship.”
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Posted on Jan 23, 2018
New year. New you. How often do we hear versions of that throughout the month of January? We are actually self-sabotaging our self-improvement efforts when we force New Year’s resolutions upon ourselves. Primarily because it is the wrong time of year for making big change. In reality, spring and fall are the seasons for change. We set ourselves up for success when we consider when we make change as well as what we want to change.
Instead of resolution, I think January is a better time for reflection. With proper reflection, we can make well-thought-out changes when the time is right. And when we are ready to make change, we will have the resolve to follow through.
January is a good time to reflect back on the past year to consider what went well, what didn’t go well, what could use tweaking, and what needs to be left alone. It’s also an opportunity to let go. Let go of what didn’t work and all the associated emotions. Let go of last year’s disappointments. Focus on what could be better this year.
And we really do have to embrace the serenity prayer as it is commonly known:
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
~ Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)
When we reflect upon the past year and consider what might be ahead, we do have to acknowledge that there are things that cannot be changed, as well as what kind of courage it will take to embrace change.
And often, we are easily overwhelmed by the thought of making change. We see the effort required, and think we don’t have the energy, time, or motivation. Dig deeper and we might see that we do not believe we are worth the effort to make necessary changes. Sometimes we stay stuck because we are stuck in our thinking or have unrealistic expectations of ourselves or others.
A time of reflection is very necessary to follow through on resolutions. When we resolve to do something, we need to know what is truly achievable at this time. We need to build upon small successes to see a big dream come to fruition. It doesn’t happen with one leap, single decision, or overnight. If we are changing habits, we need to be able to address the thinking that started the bad habit in the first place. Note to self: comfort eating. Am I worth the effort of choosing more effective ways of handling emotions or self-soothing? And maybe I’ll start with reducing how much I eat compulsively rather than omitting all comfort food.
I need to know why I am aiming for change in order to ensure success. If I am making change for someone else’s reasons (i.e. latest fitness or food trend), I won’t be motivated to see it through. It’s not realistic for me to work out a gym, but I can take a 20 minute walk every day. What do I enjoy? What can I enhance? What works with who I am as person? How do I want to live the gift of my life?
That really is the question: how do I want to live the gift of my life? I only get once chance. Do I want to spend the gift of my life to meet the expectations of others? Or do I want to live out the gift of my life honouring the very gift itself? What is the gift of…”me”? Only I am responsible for “me”—what do I want that to look like? How do I want to express what makes me “me”?
So, if I can challenge you this new year, take some time for quiet reflection before making any changes in 2018. Be sure you know what you want to change, what you want to change to, and what it will take to change. And during this quiet time of reflection, make sure to also take note of what went well and what you want to carry forward into 2018.
Only you can be you. This isn’t about adhering to a belief system, living up to standards or expectations, achieving resolutions. This is about knowing who you are. The gift of being you. How can you be “you” this year? Take time for quiet reflection to discover who you “naturally” are, what about your life is consistent with who you are, and what isn’t. Sometimes following someone else’s “good” or “right” is in fact harmful to your very Be-ing. Be sure to ask (and answer — with kindness and compassion) the question, “Who am I?” before resolving to make change this year. You might discover your initial resolutions are not what’s most needed for your Be-ing.
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