Funny how I forget the lessons I’ve learned. They’ve all been learned the hard way and at some point I behaved accordingly. Then suddenly something will happen to shine a bright light on the reality that I have actually forgotten and slipped back into old thought patterns and behaviors.

This time nothing earth shattering happened. My husband just went out of town for a week. I miss him. We spent a great weekend at a lake house with the kids right before he left. It was nice and relaxing. And then he was gone. This is certainly no tragedy and it’s perfectly normal that I would miss my husband.

It’s more what happened while he was gone that woke me up to some truths about  myself. Coincidentally (or not, depending on how you view these things) I’ve been reading a few books that were seemingly unrelated but all talked about mindfulness and empowerment on some level. So, being more mindful I’ve noticed quite a few things.

First and foremost, my anxiety level is way down. I’m still extremely busy at work. In fact, the end of each month is always busy in my industry and this month is busier than most. Before he even left I had made a decision to stop working too much and stressing myself out about it but I certainly didn’t expect my anxiety to decrease so dramatically. There is a lot more to it than work as it turns out.

The two biggest lessons I had forgotten (and am now writing down so I can be reminded again…just in case) are: 1. I am a capable adult and 2. My husband is not my father.

#1 – I am a capable adult. I forgot this. Somewhere between reuniting with my husband after our separation (during which I felt very capable and empowered) I lost that lesson. I’ve been beating myself up, catastrophizing and just feeling weak and bad about myself in general. In being mindful this week I’ve been thinking about all the evidence there is indicating that I am, in fact, a capable adult. I survived an abusive childhood, I survived marital infidelity, I gave birth to two beautiful baby boys both under not-so-normal circumstances, I’ve been successful in my career, I got myself into therapy 3 years ago when I realized something was very, very wrong, I made huge changes in my relationships and life in general, survived the near-demise of my marriage and career, managed to reconcile with my husband when we seemed worlds apart, went back to college, overcame my public speaking phobia, survived the death of one of my best friends…I could go on and on but you get the idea. I forgot all these things and more. Instead I’ve been focusing on the negative, and even on the potential negative. This has made me feel inadequate, like a basket-case and generally fucked up. I’m not fucked up. I was 3 years ago, no doubt about it, but now…I’m fine. I’m not defective and I don’t need to focus on what I think my shortcomings are. If I am not happy about any aspect of my life I have the power and the tools to change it or at the very least change how I think about it. Period. Duh.

#2 –  My husband is not my father. I don’t consciously think of my husband as my father in a literal sense, that would just be gross. But I do project my father’s behaviors onto my husband, simply because he is the man in my life and the father figure in this house. These two men could not be more different and I’m certain that is the biggest reason I chose him. My father was loud, explosive and abusive. Bigger than life and scary as hell to me as a child. My husband is a nice, caring, even soft-spoken guy. He does get angry and irritated from time to time though just like everyone else. When he is angry I become extremely anxious. He is rarely angry with me but I take it personally and feel almost compelled to fix it. Very old pattern. I learned the lesson that I am not responsible for fixing anything or for his emotions back when we were in marriage counseling. Old patterns die hard when I’m not being mindful.

I’ve noticed for several years now that I also become extremely anxious every weekday around dinner time. I suspected that it was because as a child I was expected to have dinner ready and waiting when my parents came home from work and the consequences of failing to do so were severe. I just didn’t know how to stop this anxious feeling around dinner time. In this week that my husband has been gone I have not felt anxious at dinner time. Not even once. It would be convenient for me to blame my husband for my dinner time anxiety. He’s gone and so is the anxiety. It’s not that simple or his fault. The reality is that he doesn’t expect me to have dinner ready and waiting for him. Even if he did, he is not abusive and…back to #1…I am a capable adult. If he were to become angry with me for not having dinner ready when he got home from work….so what? I’m not a helpless child at the mercy of a tyrant. Plus, he knows where McDonald’s is.

Empowerment. It’s a beautiful thing and a lesson I cannot believe I forgot because it’s SO important. Living in the here and now and being aware (mindful) of old beliefs and patterns that simply are not part of my reality today….another beautiful thing that leads to even more empowerment. I’m not going to bother to try and figure out why I forgot these lessons. I’m just grateful that my husband went out of town for a week, that I chose to read some books that got me thinking, that he’s going to be back home tomorrow, that he is who he is and that I’ve recovered these important lessons.

Thanks for stopping by!

Almost a month. It’s been almost a month since I’ve written a blog post here. I’ve missed it. I started a post last weekend but got lost while writing, was exhausted and finally just gave up on it. That’s the only attempt I’ve made since my last post on July 14th.

I’ve missed a lot more than just writing here on my blog. I’ve missed my sanity, my life, my kids, husband, sister and even our new puppy. I’ve missed the sun, going to the pool and most of this summer. I’ve missed reading and playing and pretty much everything that is enjoyable in life. I’ve missed doctor’s appointments, a blood test that is long overdue and to say my house is a disaster would be an understatement. Ever play Sims? If you have you know that if your Sim doesn’t clean, flies start buzzing around the toilet. I feel like that could be a very real possibility here soon.

What is it that’s taken me away from all that I need and want to do? No, I haven’t been traveling to exotic places (I wish!) or been sick. I’ve been working. A few posts back I declared that I was going to stop taking on additional freelance work. I did do that. I also declared that I was going to focus more on my life and have some balance. I have failed miserably there.

Circumstances beyond my control have created conditions under which my current full time job has become completely unmanageable. I’m working 13+ hours per day and weekends and still not coming close to keeping up with everything. It’s most likely a temporary situation but has been going on for the past 3 weeks and doesn’t look as if it will stop anytime in the very near future. My guess is things will settle down around the middle of September.

The problem is that I can’t wait another month to stop the insanity that has become my life. I have to take back some control of my life and I have to do it now. I am not helpless and no one has a gun to my head. Yes, I am being pulled in 1,000 directions by those who I work for and those who work for me. But ultimately, my days are mine to do with as I see fit. I have fallen back into my old beliefs about people pleasing, only this time those people are not even my family, they are my employers and employees.

That blood test I missed is an annual one that my doctor requires in order to refill a prescription I take daily. I don’t have any of that medication left, haven’t for several weeks. It has started to affect my health. Did I put my foot down at any point last week and go get the damn blood test? Nope. I just kept working. I just kept trying to do what others wanted me to do. I also feel exhausted, depressed and more anxious than I have in a very long time. This is so infuriating as I read my own writing. Why are others more important than I am….to myself??!! Admittedly it’s a bit more complicated than that as it is my job and the paycheck it provides that pay a lot of the bills around here too. However, there is no excuse for not taking care of myself in any way for three weeks. It’s not “them”. Their demands are their demands. It’s me. It’s been my choice to leave this house for one hour one day to get that blood test and I haven’t done it.

That, my friends, is a glimpse into the insanity that is people pleasing or deriving your self-worth from your impressions of what others expect of you. I imagine it could literally kill me if I let it. I was far more out of control in my people pleasing ways with my loved ones and it did almost kill me emotionally. The idea that I could be fired for taking the time to get a blood test is simply an excuse. It has no validity whatsoever. Well, it may, I really have no way of knowing for sure SINCE I DIDN’T GET THE BLOOD TEST!! But, it’s highly unlikely that an hour away from my desk is going to get me fired and if it did….well, would I really want to work for anyone who would fire me for that?

And next week I’m off for three glorious days. We’re going to a friend’s lake house for a few days to get in a vacation before the boys go back to school. There will be no computer, likely no cell phone, and definitely no work. I’m sure everyone at work will survive those three days without me. No one is going to die and the company will be just fine without my presence for three days. Do I really think I’m so important that everything will fall apart if I go get a blood test??!! What the hell is the matter with me?!

Furthermore, despite all that I have been giving up I could still be laid off or even fired tomorrow for reasons that have nothing whatsoever to do with me. I’ve worked hard for many a company that has ended up closing for various reasons. In the end, no matter what I did actually mattered. And I have never been fired for not doing my job in my life. Every thought I’ve had and every action I’ve taken over the past 3 weeks have been completely and utterly irrational. And I know better.

So, I’m not missing any more. I will still work hard and do my best, as always. But I will get that blood test. I will not work myself to death. I will go on vacation next week. Dammit.

Thanks for stopping by!

Growing up I loved all things Snoopy. Ok, I still do. I also always wanted a puppy. I asked for one every single birthday and Christmas. I guess my parents weren’t dog people because I didn’t get my first (and only) puppy until June 17, 1994, when I was 24 years old and out on my own. I remember the date because as my friend and I were driving to the breeder’s home to pick up my first puppy we listened in disbelief to the unfolding drama that was the infamous O.J. Simpson low speed police pursuit in that white SUV.

Anyway, I chose a beagle, because that’s what Snoopy was. I was so in love with that dog and thrilled to finally have a dog of my own. I was on top of training her well and she even slept with me until hubby and I moved in together. He wasn’t as in love with her as I was. She adjusted to our new house rules and hubby just fine. She didn’t do so well when we brought home our first baby. She wanted no part of my oldest son. She avoided him and pretended he didn’t exist. She would deliberately step around the blanket he laid on when he was on the floor as an infant, making sure to never come close to even touching one corner of that blanket. She also started to rebel by peeing in the house from time to time. I figured it was just a jealous stage she would get over. Hubby grew to love her less and less.

One night she woke me up sometime in the wee hours of the morning. I kept telling her to go lay down but she kept coming right back, growing more and more frantic. I finally woke up enough to realize she really needed to go outside and got out of bed. Only she didn’t run downstairs to head out the back door. She ran into the baby’s room. The room she refused to go into, except to pee in when I was downstairs. She was hopping around and whining next to the crib. I went in there and my tiny little preemie who had also had surgery at 3 weeks old due to a birth defect was stuck under a blanket. It was completely covering his head and face and he was struggling to get out of it and struggling to breathe. Well, that dog became my hero that night. She may very well have saved his life and it was the third time in his short time on earth that his life had been in jeopardy. I never swaddled him again. And he is now a healthy 12 year old.

My dog did not fare so well. Her rebellion and peeing in the house stopped after that incident. But then along came baby number two. She had reached her limit. She was not going to accept another one of these little interlopers. She started peeing anywhere and everywhere whenever she could get away with it. It really was awful. We had to replace the carpeting in the entire house and she had to be crated a lot of the time. I had reached my own limit too. I had a full time job, a two year old, a colicky infant and a dog that refused to cooperate. Hubby and I made the difficult decision to give her away when we moved to our new house in 2001. We gave her to someone we knew but I still felt horribly guilty about abandoning her. I told myself I’d never have another dog. They are too much work. Plus I secretly felt undeserving of one because I gave her away.

As my boys have grown the pressure to get a puppy has increased to the point where hubby and I actually started to consider getting them one. They are 12 and almost 10 now. They have been dying for a puppy for years and are old enough to seriously help out with taking care of one. We narrowed it down to either another beagle or a puggle. The search was on. For reasons I still cannot comprehend, the only breeders I found anywhere near me were charging $700-$1500 for them. My mother was in Indiana caring for her elderly mother and told my grandmother about our search for a puppy. My grandmother took it upon herself to look through the newspaper ads stating, “We need to find those boys a puppy that doesn’t cost $700!”. How sweet is that?! They found several breeders in her area and my mother, you know, the one who was never a dog person, went to quite a bit of trouble to pick one out, buy it and drive it all the way home to us today. We are now the proud owners of an 8 week old adorable beagle puppy named Cosmo.

Cosmo

Today, my boys are the happiest kids on earth. I’m thrilled that we finally caved and got them a dog of their own. I know their diligence in taking care of her may slack as the excitement starts to wear off and I may end up being responsible for more of her care than we agreed to. But I also know that they are only kids once, they love her and the excitement and happiness they feel today is well worth it.

Thanks for stopping by!

I have to preface this post by stating that it is inspired by this post by Hope and Healing with Elaine. It’s a lengthy but extremely informative article about introverts and in particular, Highly Sensitive People (HSPs) who are introverts. I read The Highly Sensitive Person by Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D (not the same Elaine who wrote the article I mentioned as my inspiration for this post) several years ago. I remember that I got a lot out of it and thought it was an excellent book. I’m going to have to read it again though since I honestly can’t remember why I liked it so much.

Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D describes a HSP:

HSP students work differently from others. They pick up on the subtle things, learning better this way than when over-aroused. If an HSP student is not contributing much to a discussion, it does not necessarily mean they do not understand or are too shy. HSPs often process things better in their heads, or they may be over-aroused. This can be the reason for their not contributing. HSPs are usually very conscientious but underperform when being watched. This also applies to work situations; HSPs can be great employees—good with details, thoughtful and loyal, but they do tend to work best when conditions are quiet and calm. Because HSPs perform less well when being watched, they may be overlooked for a promotion. HSPs tend to socialize less with others, often preferring to process experiences quietly by themselves.

There are many in the psychology field who view being highly sensitive as a psychopathological condition that can be treated via various forms of therapy. Both of the Elaines mentioned above and many others view being highly sensitive simply as a normal and innate personality trait that is misunderstood in our extroverted society.

I do not yet know what to think about it. I do know that I answered yes to the majority of the questions on the self-test. I also know that I can become easily overwhelmed or frazzled and that this happens quite frequently in social situations. However, I don’t socialize less with others in general and have had no problems with obtaining promotions and can successfully perform under stressful working conditions.

I’m pretty outgoing and social. At the same time I am more introverted than most people I know appear to be.  I like parties. I love concerts, and I mean big loud rock concerts. I find it easy to talk to people and don’t feel anxious in social situations. I’ve even overcome my public speaking phobia. I do prefer smaller parties to larger. I like larger parties better if there are several people to whom I am close are also in attendance. I hate loud, overly crowded bars or events. I tend to hit a wall at larger parties where I’m just completely wiped out, depleted and exhausted, even when I’m not the hostess and have no responsibilities other than to enjoy myself. I become over-stimulated and overwhelmed. I just want to go home to some peace and quiet. This does not seem to happen to most people I know.

After reading Elaine’s post I decided to really pay attention to my behavior and feelings at the large July 4th barbecue my family and I attended today. It was a great party hosted by my brother-in-law. There were lots of people there to whom I feel close, including my hubby and sons. I truly had a good time. It was one of the more enjoyable July 4th parties I’ve been to in recent history. Nonetheless, right around the four hour mark, I hit that wall. I hadn’t had too much to drink. Nothing at all was wrong. I was just done. Hubby noticed. I don’t need his permission to leave a party of course, but I still feel badly about it. He insisted it was fine, I had nothing to feel bad about, and that he knew I wanted to leave so I should just go home. I knew he was right but I felt like a wet blanket. A party-pooper. I’ve felt this way before. He and the boys can go all night. Sometimes I can too. But today four hours was enough for me I guess. And really I’m not raining on anyone’s parade as I did not insist that they leave sooner than they want to and my leaving most certainly did not put an end to the party.

Now that I’m home I still feel guilty about leaving. Conversely, I feel relieved to be home. It’s quiet and I’m alone. I do wish hubby and the boys were here relaxing with me but I don’t mind that they wanted to stay. Had I stayed I would probably have felt increasingly overwhelmed, tired and cranky and then I really would have been a party-pooper.

I still don’t know if I’m a highly sensitive person even though I answered yes to most of the questions on the quiz and do get overwhelmed after a while at large social gatherings. It doesn’t add up though since there are some large social gatherings at which I do not hit that wall. Maybe it just depends on other factors (my overall mood, amount of sleep I had the night before, level of stimulating conversation – something that’s very important to me, weather conditions – it was hot and humid today and even rained briefly, my level of alcohol consumption, etc.). Hell, for all I know hormones could even play a part. I guess it doesn’t really matter as long as hubby and I can strike a happy compromise as we did today. He got to stay and I got to leave. Neither of us is upset about the other’s decision. Maybe I’m just an ambivert with more introverted traits and he is an ambivert with more extroverted traits. As long as we’re both happy it’s ok. I just need to stop feeling guilty about it when I do hit the wall.

I welcome your comments on this subject. Do you feel overwhelmed sometimes (or all the time) at large or small social gatherings? If so, how do you handle it? Does this cause conflict between you and your significant other, friends or family? If so, how do you resolve it? Do you consider yourself to be introverted or highly sensitive? If so, what sorts of problems have you encountered as a result?

Thanks for stopping by!

Have A Happy And Safe 4th Of July!

Thanks for stopping by!

Direct communication. I learned about this very foreign concept when I was in my late 30′s. Of course I’d always thought that I was communicating directly but in hindsight, I rarely did. I was trained from an early age that whatever I had to say was of no importance and that in order to avoid abuse I had to manipulate people and situations. I did that very well for a long time by people pleasing, holding grudges, playing the martyr, mind-reading, projecting and with denial.

Once I learned, and it was a long slow process, that it was actually ok to simply state exactly what was on my mind I was shocked. The sky didn’t fall. The world didn’t end. Nothing happened at all. Well, that’s not accurate. Others reacted to my new form of communication adversely. They didn’t like it at first. They liked the status quo. Turns out, that is a completely normal reaction to a loved one making major changes. Eventually the entire dynamic of several of my relationships changed entirely. Some of the people with whom I had the most conflict at first ended up joining me in learning direct communication. Hubby is one of those people.

It’s amazing how clueless I was to all that I was not communicating. If I thought it I assumed others thought the same. When they behaved in ways that baffled me and/or were hurtful to me I assumed they didn’t care about my feelings or that I had done something wrong. Later, through direct communication I learned that some of them simply did not understand me and also that some of them did not, in fact, care about my feelings.

Some of them are incapable of caring about anyone else’s feelings. As I became more and more comfortable with direct communication I noticed that those people who are not capable of caring about my feelings are master manipulators themselves who almost never communicate directly. I now have no tolerance for manipulation and indirect communication. I stay away from those people whenever I can. When I can’t, I limit my exposure and the topics I discuss with them.

One of the things that used to frustrate me the most about some people in my life was the way they would not answer questions. Whenever someone would dodge a question, completely ignore a question or answer a question with another question I became extremely confused. I used to think that perhaps I had crossed over some line and asked an inappropriate question or somehow otherwise made them uncomfortable. I felt confused a lot of the time and spent countless hours trying to figure out what I had said that caused the awkward situation.

It turns out that it wasn’t me. It was them. And this is now one of the first red flags that go up when I am getting to know someone new. If I ask questions appropriate to the level of intimacy in our relationship and those questions are repeatedly ignored, dodged or answered with anything less than a direct answer, I know I am dealing with someone who is attempting to manipulate me. It doesn’t mean they have some evil plot to hurt me. It can be something as simple as the person not wanting me to view them in a certain way so they start manipulating the conversation to avoid having to disclose something that they believe will make them look bad.

A recent example is a conversation I was having with a friend. She has been talking to me about her marital problems for months. Whenever we get together I hear story after story about her husband and the arguments they have. At first I was sympathetic and just listened and answered questions if she asked. Eventually I started to notice that major details seemed to be left out of many of the instances that she was telling me about. Things didn’t add up or make sense. So, I started asking questions. She would not answer any of them directly. Suddenly her memory was faulty and she sounded like a politician or a criminal defendant. She was pleading the 5th without telling me that’s what she was doing. She wants me to be on her side when we have these conversations. She does not want me to know the whole truth or see her as anything less than the victimized injured party in what is most definitely a two way street.

The funny thing is that I would actually like her much better if she were able to just be real. If she wants to talk to me about her marital problems, that’s fine, but since she is being selective about what she tells me I have no vested interest in actually listening. I wouldn’t care what she’d done to contribute to her marital problems. I would feel closer to her and more interested in her problems if she would just be herself, warts and all. As it is, it just feels like we have a superficial relationship.

It’s unfortunate that people are unable or unwilling to communicate directly. It’s so much easier than the manipulation that many people (my former self included) choose to engage in instead. It separates us and keeps barriers up that prevent us from reaching any real level of intimacy.

“It is always the false that makes you suffer, the false desires and fears, the false values and ideas, the false relationships between people. Abandon the false and you are free of pain; truth makes happy, truth liberates.” — Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

Thanks for stopping by!

About five years ago, our car was stolen. Yes, right here in suburbia. We went out for the evening with friends and when we returned it was not on the street where we had parked it.  It was recovered a few hours later when someone called the police to report noisy teenagers driving a car around a local park. There was some damage to the car but nothing major. The teenagers were never caught, our insurance company paid for the repairs and we went on with our lives.

We did have our suspicions about a teenage boy who lives down the street. At the time he was the only teenager on our street and the circumstances surrounding the theft of our car indicated that whoever did it would have had to have known we were gone for the night. Only someone living very nearby would have been able to see us pile into a friend’s mini-van with obvious intentions of going out for the night. We had no proof that it was him but he seemed the mostly likely candidate.

We were somewhat surprised when a year or two later this same teenager came knocking on our door offering to cut our grass. He was a little older and looking to make some money during summer vacation. We said yes despite our suspicions, because they were only suspicions after all, and even if it had been him thought maybe he’d matured and were happy to have someone else cut the grass.

At some point over the past few years, he seemed to expand. He provided us with business cards and a brochure offering full service landscaping, took on a partner and purchased one of those big trailers on which he hauled around several commercial-grade lawn mowers, weed-whackers and other landscaping materials.

A few weeks ago, while cutting our grass he hit a tiny rock. It flew into our patio door with such force it made a loud noise that scared the crap out of me and the outer pane shattered immediately.  It crackled like ice for several minutes before starting to fall apart. He immediately said he’d pay to replace the pane of glass and stopped by a few days later with someone to provide an estimate. A week later a second person came by to measure for an estimate.

Another week later we had heard nothing. Hubby called and the teenager, now nineteen years old, indicated that his parents suggested we file a homeowners insurance claim, told us he really didn’t have the money right now, and over the next couple of weeks made it pretty clear that he was trying to get out of paying for the damage. He even kept cutting our grass each week but never came to the door to collect his weekly fee. After hubby placed a call to his cell phone only to find the number had been disconnected we decided to go talk to his parents.

Throughout all of this hubby and I had debated back and forth about how to handle this situation. On the one hand, he is just a kid (although technically of legal age), it could have happened to anyone, and we aren’t going to take anyone to court over this. On the other hand, it didn’t happen to anyone, it happened to him, he offered to pay for it, and our budget is pretty tight.

His father was immediately belligerent. He had this whole tough-guy thing going on. My immediate impression was that he was a total douche. I mean, if my son broke a neighbor’s window playing baseball or something I would pay for the damage and would certainly not tell my neighbor to kiss off as he seemed to be doing with us. Finally the reason for his behavior came out. His son is in jail. He’s supposed to enter the military in July but since this is his third recent scrape with the law, and this one a felony, his military future is not looking good. The legal fees are going to be enormous. Suddenly the problem we had come to discuss seemed so petty. We are the least of this man’s problems.

I had to fight back tears. Not because of the legal fees or the fact that there is now no way he is replacing our pane of glass. The pain of watching your child go down the wrong path. Especially the path of a criminal right on the cusp of what could possibly lead to a much brighter future (joining the military tends to straighten people out). I can’t even imagine it.

When they are babies their futures seem so bright. The possibilities endless. As young children there is so much potential as their own interests and strengths develop. We have such high hopes for our kids. Sure, an argument could be made that this teenager’s problems are a result of bad parenting but I have no way of knowing if that is the case as I don’t know them at all. No matter what led him down his chosen path, the disappointment, guilt and grief his dad must be feeling right now knock the wind out of me every time I think about it. Shattered dreams, especially those we have for our children….well, it’s terrifying to even consider my own sons ending up in the same position as this troubled young man.

He did not discuss the details of his son’s crimes but did soften up considerably after he got the truth off his chest and we expressed compassion for him and his son. He even apologized for his initial behavior, acknowledging that we had no way of knowing what was really causing his anger. By the time we left I wanted to give him a hug. I hope it’s not too late for his son and that he can get his life together. I hope his parents don’t have to live with shattered dreams for the rest of their lives.

Thanks for stopping by!

I’ve written before about my #1 most hated word in the English language; should.

I’ve got a #1 most hated phrase in the English language too.  It is, “we need to talk”.

I’ve never understood this phrase, unless when used to immediately proceed the talk that needs to occur. And even then it still gives me butterflies in my stomach and my heart skips a beat. My biggest pet peeve is when it is used to let me know about a conversation that needs to take place at some point in the future and the subject matter is not disclosed or any other hints given. In the absence of knowledge I tend to fill in the blanks with the worst case scenario. What the hell is the point of the forewarning about an imminent conversation with no clue as to the topic of the conversation?

A Clue Would Be Helpful

I know that I’ve attached negative connotations to this phrase because of the long, drawn-out, repetitive screaming rages I endured as a child. These were referred to as, “talks”. Whenever I returned home from anywhere I got the same butterflies in my stomach approaching the front door. What would be waiting for me on the other side of that door? It could be nothing. It could be a violent outburst. It could be a three hour rage. I would find out immediately upon entering. If it was bad I was instructed to come upstairs because, “we need to talk”.

This came up today as I received a similar proclamation at work.

This bugs the crap out of me. It’s actually rule #1 for me with my friends and family. There can be no, “we need to talk” or “I have to tell you something later”. Either speak up now or don’t bother to mention it until you’re ready. If we need to talk, let’s talk now. If we need to talk but you can’t or won’t talk now, then why tell me about it in advance?

In the past I would have been absolutely freaking out about this future talk. I would have obsessively analyzed every possible reason that this talk could not take place today and discussed all of them with everyone I could reach on the phone. This time, I vented about it, have thought about it off and on this evening, and am writing about it here. Each time it’s come up, I’ve reminded myself that the person I need to talk to was very busy today, that no amount of obsessing or worrying is going to change it and that I will find out tomorrow. I was able to function this evening and even completed tasks, had unrelated conversations and enjoyed some time with hubby. I wasn’t paralyzed by my worrying and wasn’t irritable or particularly fearful either.

But still….is this phrase really necessary??!! At the very least, it’s incredibly annoying. 

Thanks for stopping by!

I’ve read quite a bit in various books and articles about psychology and about Buddhism that talk about ”being in the moment” or “being present in the moment”. I’ve never fully understood what this means. It sounded, frankly, like a bunch of self-help psycho-babble and/or vague guru-speak. I was 90% certain that this idea was absolute nonsense because nothing I read adequately explained it’s precise meaning with any clarity.

I was wrong.

I caught a glimpse of the meaning of being present in the moment during my recent trip to the ocean. On that beach with the sun shining, the waves gently rolling in and out, the breeze blowing my hair and the incredible view of the vast expanse of the ocean before me, I was present in the moment. I was not thinking about work or bills or my past or my future. I was enjoying the moment. And that is all it means. It is no more complicated than that. I was making it more complicated than it is in trying to wrap my brain around a concept that seemed too deep or too vague for my neurotic little brain to grasp.

Being present in the moment is extremely difficult for me in my real life. Everything is easier at the beach. Once home I realized that I am rarely just enjoying the moment, or even just experiencing and observing the moment. Not all moments are enjoyable of course. Some moments are painful. Some are just boring. Or are they? It seems that in addition to having monkey mind, which is the primary reason I find it difficult to be present in the moment, I have fixed views on certain moments as they occur and if already dismissed as boring, for example, I don’t even attempt to look at it any other way. And then my mind wanders and I’m not in the moment.

The truth is that in mentally checking out during moments I have judged to be unworthy of my full attention I am likely missing a lot of moments that are absolutely worthy of my attention. In fact they are all more worthy of my attention than the thoughts that run through my head when I do let it wander. Worry over work and bills, past events and possible future events….none of this is more worthy of my attention than whatever is currently going on. I can’t change the past and can’t control the future. That is not to say that we should never look back or forward. We have to. But I think my time would be better spent in looking back or forward during brief and specific times of my choosing, not just to escape the current moment.

Because this is so difficult for me I turned to research, as I always do, through reading. After reading What Really Matters: Searching for Wisdom in America by Tony Schwartz as suggested to me by my friend Dawn (excellent book, I highly recommend it), I realized why I never found meditation to be particularly helpful in my life. It was relaxing while I was doing it and I was (when I wasn’t doing it wrong) in the moment, but it never translated into any lasting changes in my life. It was the type of meditation I was doing. I was practicing samatha meditation, in which the goal is to completely quiet the mind and focus solely on something other than your own thoughts (breaths, a candle, etc.). While this is a good way to relax and probably even a good way to start, I think vipassana meditation is more beneficial for me. This is an introspective type of meditation in which the focus is on your own thoughts. The idea being to allow whatever thoughts pop into your head to be observed without judgement, as if you are a neutral third party.

From the same book I learned a bit more about gestalt therapy so now I’m reading Gestalt Therapy by Frederick S. Perls. It is a highly technical book,not exactly light reading, but so far I’m learning techniques for staying in the moment. The first and most simple is during every day normal activities to constantly practice thinking, “right now, I am….”. This has proven to be beneficial already after only a few days. I was alone for much of this weekend so I tried it out and it’s sort of like tricking my brain into not worrying or ruminating. It sounds ridiculous at first but it truly does allow me to notice things I never noticed before and to remain in the moment.

For example, during my shower this morning I practiced. As in, “right now I’m washing my hair.”, “right now I’m washing my face”. I told you it sounds ridiculous at first!  In reality what this does is force you to stay in the moment. Literally. And I noticed things I have never noticed before, because I decided long ago that taking a shower is a boring necessity not worthy of my attention so my mind normally wanders all over the place. Today I noticed the sun streaming in through the window, how the shower spray feels like rain, how silky my hair feels with conditioner in it, etc…you get the idea. It was an eye opening experience during a “task” that I normally am somewhat annoyed that I have to even waste time doing and one that has become completely automatic.

None of the things I noticed in the shower may sound important but the idea is that we live most of our lives in this auto-pilot, checked-out state. Imagine the possibilities, especially in our relationships with others, if we were truly focusing our full attention in the moment. I’m guessing that I will notice things about people I’ve known forever that I never noticed before. Voice inflections, facial expressions, the possibilities seem endless. I’m interested in hearing from you about this if it is of interest to you. How do you stay in the moment and what have you noticed?

Thanks for stopping by!

“Being well adjusted to a sick society is not an indication of health.” — J. Krishnamurti

I’m sick. I got a cold from my son. It may be a sinus infection. I usually get them this time of year. I’m waiting to go to the doctor until tomorrow. There is nothing worse than dragging my sorry ass into the doctor’s office only to be told I just have a cold only to end up there again three days later with a double ear infection. That’s usually how it goes since they no longer just call in prescriptions for antibiotics even though this happens to me every single year.

I realize this isn’t the most interesting topic and I almost didn’t write about it but I’ve slacked off for days now and wanted to write about the other part of being sick. The good part.

When I really feel like crap as I do right now, I am forced to slow down. I am forced to exert a minimal amount of energy, get back to basics and do only what is absolutely necessary. Otherwise I feel much worse. I haven’t missed any work but that is a perk of working from home. There is no way I could have dragged myself out into the world, sat in traffic or in an office this week.

Besides work, I have done nothing much else. I have slept when I needed to sleep. I have rested. I have asked the rugrats to help out more with things like emptying the dishwasher and hubby is making dinner tonight. As someone whose natural inclination is to never stop, never sit down, always be “doing” something, being sick gives me a much needed excuse to remember why it’s important to resist that natural inclination.

I don’t have to do it all. I don’t have to do it all today. I can ask for help. I can sleep in the middle of the day if I need to. I can take care of myself. I forget all of that. I forget it a lot.

I know that this inclination comes from that asshole of an inner voice that still wants to tell me that I absolutely suck as a person if I’m not doing something or achieving. I know it’s an asshole but I still listen to it way more than I should. When I’m sick though, I don’t hear it. All I hear is that I’m not feeling well and I need to lay down. The asshole lets me off the hook when I’m sick.

My mother was a nurse. A caretaker. When I was sick all bets were off. Chores went undone. Expectations were lowered. There was even a feeling of sympathy that I never saw in her under any other circumstances. She took care of my father for seven years before he died, all while working full time and still raising my sister. Her inner voice is an even bigger asshole than mine. Even though he’s been gone for almost 11 years and she’s retired she still can’t sit still. She always has to be doing something. She is at her best when she is taking care of someone or something for someone. She’s always saying she has “twenty-million things to do”.

I wish she could just…be. I can sometimes. I’m aware that the inner voice is wrong. She is not. The immense pressure surrounding this compulsion to do something is difficult for me to escape. I cannot even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for her since she isn’t even aware of it.

In any case, I can escape it when I’m sick. And it’s a bittersweet feeling because I don’t enjoy feeling sick. I need to remember this feeling of being off the hook when I’m not sick. Just because my inner voice (and our society) tell me that I have to do more and more just to get more and more doesn’t make it so. Right now all I need to do is go lay down. I can live with that.

Thanks for stopping by!