Be Brave Blog

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Lessons in Mindfulness

IMG_2165Everybody’s dream come true is a trip to the Social Security Office. Am I right? Seriously, what could be more fun that whiling away a morning waiting with your fellow citizens to tend to whatever it is that brought you there. This was my exact thought process, with a few detours, as I made my way to our local branch to tend to some business the other day.

I made my way in, got my number, and quickly saw there were at least a dozen people before me, well, if my determination of how the numbers were called was accurate. Settling in for the long haul, I read a magazine – I’ll admit, it was the AARP magazine, honestly there are good articles! – and the time ticked by. After what seemed like a short time, more like over an hour, my number was called. Proceeding to the window, I knew the adventure was nearing an end. But it wasn’t. I didn’t have the correct version of the document needed to do my business. Sigh.

Julia, my helpful clerk, told me what to do and off I went. A trip to another government office. Another hour plus wait, document secured. Back to Social Security, where Julia allowed me to skip the line. Fifteen minutes later, done.

The whole adventure took close to 4 hours with waiting and driving.

Normally, I would be highly agitated at what I’d consider to be a waste of time. But I wasn’t. Not even a little bit.

Surprised, I thought about why this time was different. One glaring fact presented itself. I was off work, still in the recovery period from foot surgery. If I wasn’t there, I would have been sitting in a chair at home, reading a magazine. Same plan, different environment.

I was in the moment without a pressing expectation that I should be somewhere else. ‘Enjoying’ it for what it was. Knowing the staff was moving us through as quickly as they could. And isn’t that what mindfulness is? Staying in the moment, experiencing what is, rather than projected expectations of where you want to be, or what you want to be doing? Anything other than what you’re doing in that moment?

Staying present made the experience just that, an experience. Nothing more, nothing less.

Why, then, is mindfulness so difficult to live out day by day? I get antsy. I think I can multi-task, although I’m learning that’s a scam. When I multi-task, I’m not paying 100% attention to either activity, and both show the result. I’ve read about, been taught about mindfulness over the last couple of years and not until my Social Security experience did it hit home so squarely.

Seeing how mindfulness changed my mindset was a game changer. Yes, I know mindfulness has been all the rage. Believe me, I’ve been on board conceptually. But really experiencing it? That made all the difference. My body and mind were in sync.

Raise your hand with me if you also need to experience before you jump on board. Anyone? Everyone? Yep, while I know there are the unicorns who can hear, understand and adopt, I’m not one of those people. The unexpected lesson in mindfulness may have been there prior to last week, but I didn’t see it. Wasn’t paying attention, which I suppose is part of the lesson.

While we move through the end of the year, with enormous amounts of competing priorities, what if we simply paid attention? The lessons are there. The mindfulness that leads to deeper engagement in our lives. It’s there. You likely don’t have the hinderence of your foot in a boot, which, by its nature slows you down, but you can make a choice. Slow down. BE in your experience, feel it, and fully enjoy it and, more importantly, those around you. You can do it friends, I’m right there with you, it’s our mindful journey.

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Game ChangerThe instructions for the exercise read – describe yourself in five words. Without hesitation, I wrote ‘responsible’ as the first, followed by other descriptors that essentially supported that characteristic. I’m hard wired for responsibility from an early age and orchestrate my life around it.

I suspect that’s influenced my overall approach to life which is to issue spot and resolve problems in order to eliminate risk. Responsibility resolves risk, rather than allowing it to fester. Because, let’s be real, if risk is unpredictable it could easily cause you to slide off the rails into a myriad of problems. Nobody has time for problems, particularly not the responsible person.

But.

Should responsibility come before all other emotions or experiences? It’s certainly my go to. When presented with a situation at work or home, my first response is to look for the problem to solve. I’ve noticed a few pitfalls to that approach in recent years.

  1. Looking for the problem presumes there is one. Oftentimes another person is simply talking through the situation rather than asking for a solution.
  2. Problem spotting may look like criticism. Despite an intent to help, to solve, when you look for a problem, you (ok, I) can appear critical.
  3. Continually looking for what needs to be done in an effort to be responsible can result in missing the opportunity to be present.

Of course, the list could continue, but there’s a big number 4 that came up for me yesterday. I was watching Where’d you go Bernadette? on Amazon and was introduced to the concept of discounting in the brain. Derived from a neuroscience study, it’s a scientific way of saying that the more effort you put into something, the less valuable the reward associated with the effort.

After having the concept introduced, I did additional research and, apparently, there are a lot of ways to go with brain discounting. Related to my outlook, it would appear the result of the effort I exert is more than the reward I receive from being seen as “responsible.”  Hmmm. Basically, the result is less and less satisfying.

The other idea presented in the movie was that as our minds focuses on the “effort,” it can become consuming to the point where we can lose sight of why we’re doing it in the first place. Bernadette lost sight of her core self, the part that found joy in the journey. I can relate.

Responsibility in and of itself is awesome. But when your focus narrows to solving the problem, eliminating risk and ensuring you’re seen as responsible, you can lose sight of the joyful parts of life. Responsibility starts to feel heavy, more a burden than the result of a life lived well.

And it’s currently a 100-pound weight. Don’t be mistaken, it’s not something to forsake, but, for me, I’m questioning its hierarchical place. Maybe I can let it be the after effect rather than the focus? Because, as I slog my way through mid-life, I’d prefer more joy, delight, play, and freedom than carrying around the constant feeling that I have to be responsible for everyone and everything. It’s something I brought on myself, via what life dished out, but I’m ready to be the fun one. I lost sight of that side on the path to responsibility.

As we enter the time of year where new intentions are created, I’m adding joy to my list. Inviting more joy and lightness into my life. What have you lost sight of along the path to your point in life? What’s been discounted because you were focused on the effort to get there? Take a moment to reflect create an intention around it. You’re not alone. It’s a shared journey, and I’m right there with you. We’re brave, bold and authentically walking through life together.

 

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Looking at change differently

Flame to ChangeI LOVE CHANGE! Said no one, ever. Admittedly, my friend said it to me the other day, but she’s an anomaly. A lovely anomaly. Truth is, change can be difficult. In order to get to the new state, whatever it may be, you must end another. Oftentimes we approach change as though it’s a train. Everybody on board, into your new seats and away we pull from the station. Leaving behind the old way. No time for long, emotional goodbyes on the platform. It’s on to the new we go, looking back is for suckers.

Except.

Inherently change results in the ‘death’ of what was, and that comes with emotions that, if ignored, may have a damaging effect.

Change is often associated with business. The notion that ‘without change, we will perish.’ While there is truth to that, we encounter change in a wide array of places in our life, but don’t tie those to the word, hence we treat them differently. But they’re still change.

Your first, and then last child leaves for college.

You face a change in job.

After living in one place for many years, you move somewhere that’s altogether different.

You enter the middle of your life.

A relationship shifts…and then ends.

On the surface, we may not look at those instances as change, but they are. And with all certainty I can say they produce emotions that are far reaching. Until recently, one emotion hid in a corner. There, but I couldn’t quite identify it until someone else named it for me.

Grief.

Change results in grief. The closer the change is to us, the more significant the grief yet, we rarely take the time to acknowledge it, sit with it, process it.

I’m amid a change that, on the scale of 1-10 is an 11. It hurts, is raw and painful. In the several months I’ve been going through it I’ve often wondered if it should feel differently. In some respects, it felt like the wind got knocked out of me and I can’t quite catch my breath, and in others I feel relief. The conflicting emotions were confusing, and I wasn’t sure what to do with another one, numbness. Feeling nothing. New to me and arose as a defense mechanism, most certainly.

After the continuous swirl confusing emotions had continued beyond the point where I thought I could soldier through them any longer, I sought professional help. And exhaled. Within a short time, a new word surfaced that made sense to me and which I hadn’t considered. It was the one hiding in the corner, grief.

As though a light bulb had illuminated a previously dark space, I could see it. Of course, it was grief, yes! But now what? Oh, you mean I have to actually do something with it? Indeed. I was handed a tool that walked me through emotions I experienced, some named, others unnamed, all valid. And isn’t that the case for any of us in times of change? Sometimes we can’t put a name to the emotions we’re feeling, but once we either figure it out, after long suffering, or another person names it for us, it’s as though the final puzzle piece clicks into place.

Grief is normally associated with death, yet, when we think about death expansively, isn’t that what happens in change? One state ceases? Unless we acknowledge the ending, the new is tainted. Stained with the unresolved emotion we carry forward. We must grieve the loss and that phase may be brief, or it may span a longer time. But we must give it the time and space it warrants, or we’ll experience the aftermath.

Over a couple months, I worked through the grief exercise which culminated in reading it aloud. Yep, instead of simply having the thoughts in my head or on paper, I spoke them. As much as I wasn’t looking forward to that step, there was something cathartic about it. The exhale, feelings returning to my core. But once it was complete, I knew that holding on to those papers, what essentially was a letter, would only result in my returning to them. And there is no value in that. In any change, continuing to return to the emotions we feel during transition result in being stuck there. Which is counterintuitive to the process of moving through the grief cycle, feeling the feelings, in the first place. You don’t need to keep picking that scab.

So, I burned them. Ceremoniously, yet without fanfare, I placed them in the fireplace and lit a match. What I’d spent a couple months processing was ashes within minutes. When we go through change, whether personally or in business, we need to give grief the time it’s due. If we don’t, it’ll hide in the corner and come out in unhealthy ways. Destructive to you and the people around you. While not an easy process, one that is entirely worth the effort.

What change do you need to process? Give more time to? Realize the grief that is hiding, waiting for you to finally see it’s face? Friends, that’s the journey. Believe me, we’re in it together and my heart is for you. Sending you all the love. Be brave.

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Accepting help brings us closer

Miracle of helpingDeep breaths. Last words I heard the anesthesiologist say to me shortly before I drifted off to la-la land for surgery. Anesthesia is the closest thing to time travel we have these days. One minute you’re in an operating room and the next? You hear your name through a fog, slowly clearer and clearer, until you’re wide awake and looking at the aftermath. I’ve had a few surgeries throughout my life and remember the fading off and waking up from each. Something cemented in my mind.

You listen to your discharge instructions, yeah, yeah, got it. The implication of “non-weight bearing,” only sunk in after I got home and realized the full scope. Particularly in light of the fact I can’t balance on my other leg. I had the uncomfortable feeling of being helpless. Not completely, but most definitely dependent on others. There’s only so much you can do when you’re told to not have your foot unelevated for more than five minutes at a time. Five minutes? Two of those today were spent brushing my teeth! Three more isn’t enough to do much of anything.

So, I have to ask for help. There’s something that happens when we ask for and receive help, for us and the other person. It’s disarming, neutralizing. Especially when the help is needed for physical assistance. Whatever baggage might exist between you and the other rapidly fades as you work together towards a common goal. If you had a conflict, it fades in favor of peaceful co-existence.

But why? If we can erase, or at least diminish, conflict with another person when they are helping us or visa-versa, why won’t it come sooner?

I don’t suppose to have the magical answer, but there’s a common interest, a shared humanity, when you’re in the situation to help someone. Particularly if you both lean in. Being in a position of needing help is a vulnerable place, one where the mere act of asking itself is courage. And when you’re meeting another person’s need for help when they’re in that vulnerable place, you see them differently.

You’ve moved in.

That’s when we see people. In the moments of vulnerability. No masks, no pretense. Raw. Open. Unguarded.

Which may not be what we normally see. We’ve been programmed to be tough, to handle our own challenges. So, when we can’t, it might be a different side of us than people are used to. It’s your authentic self showing up. But those can be the best moments. With someone you trust, sharing an experience.

What if we could recreate the feelings that arise when we’re helping or being helped in everyday life? If we could see people as their true self? Unmasked and leaning in. We’d find ourselves in deeper relationships and healing hurts that keep us apart. That’s where we’d find a miracle. One worth seeking in this journey of life we’re navigating through. Day by day. Moving in to closer relationship. You may not need the help I do right now, but please, let your authentic self be seen. It’s worth the risk. You can do it, your brave my friend, and we’re doing it together.

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Truly seeing one another

I see youThroughout the day, we walk by mirror after mirror so you would think that when asked if we see ourselves clearly, the answer would be yes. But it’s not. Yesterday, I was polishing a handheld mirror that belonged to my great grandmother Marjorie and as the silver became brighter, I thought about the times she would have gazed into it. Wondering the thoughts that went through her mind as she reflected on it, if she saw herself clearly.

If I’m honest, looking at myself in the mirror, truly seeing myself, isn’t at the top of my list. It’s task oriented. At my hair while I’m drying it, at my face so that I can apply makeup, or pluck the persistent whiskers that have joined me in midlife -what is even up with those?!?!?! But to truly ‘see’ myself? Generally, it’s a hard pass.

Yet, in each of our faces, there’s a story, a lifetime, that yearns to be told. And when we’re seen by another person, we often feel stripped naked, unsure of what to do in that moment. People who can reach in and see our struggles and who we are at our core are rare.

That’s where Mr. Rogers comes in. Yes, Fred Rogers.

In the last few years, there’s been a resurgence of interest in Mr. Rogers and A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood is the most recent. With Tom Hanks as Fred Rogers, it was set up for success. I spent the afternoon immersed in Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood yesterday and walked out with the understanding that he was one of those rare people who could see into your soul.

Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood was one of the few shows I was allowed to watch as a child. That, Sesame Street, an occasional Romper Room…not the diet of television children have today. Because of that, there’s a warm fuzzy feeling, the memory of those days, which washes over me when I watch anything about him.

What solidly hit home for me was how he reached into people’s lives and met them where they were. He tackled many of the “unspoken” issues which continue confront children today. Divorce, racism, anger, sadness…he looked at real life, not a candy-coated version. His kind, gentle approach appealed to children then, and now. The emotions that arise within children, and adults for that matter, are often brushed aside. They don’t have the words to explain them and adults may not ask.

But Fred Rogers did. By speaking the unspeakable he normalized children’s feelings. They were seen by him. That’s the warm fuzzy, the memory of how he reached into my home and created the feeling I was seen. Thank you to Tom Hanks for bringing the feeling back.

What if we could do that for each other? See people, enter their space and assure them that their feelings, their emotions, are valid, and normal and worth exploring. We can, you know, but we must move in. Get closer, ask questions and be ok sitting in the uncomfortable space that comes next. He wasn’t using ninja mind tricks, he simply asked questions…and waited. We’re so quick to rush and fill in the quiet space we don’t let the question linger. People are seen when we wait. Like children, it takes us a hot second to identify what’s going on inside us and name it.

Who needs you to be the one who sees them today? Are you willing to ask questions and wait…letting the answer come when it’s ready? In those moments you’ll see another authentically, the true self that wants to be seen, to be known…to be reassured that their feelings are valid. Choose to be that person. Get closer…what you’ll see will be beautiful.

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Help me help you

please and thank you“I can do it myself!” If you’re a parent or have spent any time around small children, it’s a frequently uttered phrase. It must be around age 3 or 4 they start to push on their independence. It’s part of every childhood and, honestly, necessary as they learn how to operate in the world apart from their parents.

As children grow up, they occasionally revert back, and start relying on mom again. My hypothesis is that they have so many other things occupying their minds, they don’t forget, but they don’t want to be bothered. My boys finally confessed to me in their late teens that it was easier to ask me than to figure it out themselves. Basically, they busted themselves. Now, I’m on to them.

I’ve never lost that independent piece of myself, my desire to do things myself. Each time I figure out how to do something around my house, the sense of satisfaction is worth it. I mean, I fixed a toilet leak recently, where’s the Girl Scout badge for that? Yet…I’ve been to told being self-sufficient is a sin. And although I couldn’t wrap my brain around that idea, it still bothered me. Here’s what I have to say about that. If you’re in my camp and are self-sufficient, I’m fairly certain Moses didn’t inscribe that one on the tablets. If anyone tries to tell you that, my answer is ‘nope.’ Moving on…

What is it about asking for, or accepting help that proves challenging? I’ve wrestled with the idea for a few years now, never quite putting my finger on it. For a while, I wondered if it had something to do with not wanting to make the ask, not wanting to rely on others. Maybe. It can be risky, a lot of unknowns. The funny thing is that I love helping people. I’m more than happy to jump in and lending a helping hand or find a solution. I often say that I could be a concierge. Putting together the pieces for people so they can have the best experience possible.

But yesterday, I had an ‘a-ha’ moment. I’d decided to replace the light fixture over my kitchen table. I know a couple of guys, one of whom is an actual electrician, who told me they come over and help. Nah…I can figure it out. I got the old one down, no problem. As I stood on the ladder staring at the wires, not gonna lie, I was a little perplexed how I was going to fit it all together. Obvi, white to white, black to black, but there was the grounding wire, the bracket…so many pieces. I contemplated YouTube solutions, or puzzling it out.

Instead, I asked for help. My friend came over, literally took him 15 minutes. Done. Light hung. Ta-da!

In my ‘a-ha’ moment I realized, it wasn’t that I had to do it myself, it’s that I don’t want to inconvenience others. I don’t want to be a bother. For me to ask for help feels tremendously vulnerable. It’s not the act of asking for help that causes hesitation, it’s the mental tape of ‘am I enough.’ Each time I was told I was overly self-sufficient; all it did was drive home the not good enough message. When I was teased for the independence? Same thing made me feel like I was doing something wrong, not enough.

Taking steps to be vulnerable, to ask for help, may not seem like no big thang, but, if you get this at all, it is. And I know there are many women out there who share my wiring. How do we overcome it? By doing the next thing. Yesterday, the next thing was asking for help with my light. Next week? Ask. That’s all that needs to happen. Whatever it is, make the ask.

The truth is, my friends, you are worthy, you are enough. All the messaging that gets in the way of that, it’s noise. I get that it’s hard, I’m right there with you, but you can be vulnerable. You are brave and courageous and I believe in you.

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Help me understand

UnderstandingIf you have children, or have been a child, you’ve heard the words, “why?” Literally one thousand times a day. Why is the sky blue, why is ice cream cold, why does my finger hurt, why won’t Sallie play with me, why do I have to take a bath? From our earliest childhood we have a desire to understand the complexities of life around us. We ask why to fill in the blanks.

As we get older, the path to understanding is not always as simple, and not within our own power to navigate. Our minds are programmed to fill in the blanks, making the gaps that much more difficult. Brené Brown writes and speaks about just that. She explains that in the absence of fact, our minds are hard wired to fill in the blanks. We create stories, usually far more dramatic than the actual truth when we don’t know the other person’s reasons. Their ‘why.’ We tell their side of the story.

And the result doesn’t paint the other person positively. They become the villain.

But I’m slowly realizing that there will be gaps in my understanding that I can’t fill in. Areas where I simply don’t understand why a series of events led to an unanticipated outcome. I naturally want closure, but it’s not there. Make no mistake, I’ve created a Pulitzer winning novel around the reasons, because I’m a normal human person. But that story is probably part fact, part fiction. I’ll never know.

The absolute truth is that the life journey I’m on requires me to keep taking the next step. I don’t have to understand it, but I have to take it. I’ve realized that when it comes to other people, I must understand that I won’t always understand. I could continue to wrestle the information I have into a cognitive story, but that’s all it would be, a story.

So what do you do with that? How do you shift your mind past a difficult situation when you don’t know the full story and never will, when you don’t understand? There’s no magical answer, but that doesn’t mean you’re powerless in your own narrative. There is value in processing your existing information and emotions.

Get curious about your own ‘what’s’ and ‘why’s.’ What is the emotion you’re feeling, what was your experience, why did you make the choices you made? Examine those feelings and ask what you can learn from them. Understand your own perspective and current narrative. And then? Either you continue to retell your negative narrative, or you create a new one. Take the information and emotions you have and use those to create a story for yourself that extends grace and love, to yourself, and another person.

Hard things happen, relationships fail, and we don’t always understand. But we can make choices to move forward. To frame our experiences from a different mindset. To let ourselves and another off the hook. Not understanding, unresolved feelings, we process them and let them go. Imagine pulling against an immovable object and suddenly you let go. The rush of lightness that overcomes you, that’s what letting go and moving forward is akin to.

There will be things in life we simply don’t understand. What you do with that? It’s your choice. Be brave my dears. We’re on this journey together.

 

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Better Boundaries

BoundariesIn the midst of an argument a few years ago, the phrase “drawing a line in the sand” was used towards me. Smack.in.the.face. The phrase conjures division, separation, black/white, a dualistic mindset. It feels like “you’re either with me or against me.” Not a phrase that builds relationships.

So, when I’ve thought about boundaries, line in the sand came to mind. But Brené Brown writes about boundaries and during Dare to Lead™ training, she spoke about them being one of the elements of Daring Leadership. Ok, fine…I’m paying attention. Turns out, boundaries are not only necessary, they’re part of authenticity and courage.

Yet, being an Enneagram 9 a people pleaser in recovery, boundaries feel difficult. How will I keep people happy, keep the peace, if I have boundaries? Don’t boundaries create distance between me and another person?

Turns out, yes and no. Boundaries are essential to our own authenticity. They tell people what is ok and not ok. When Brené talked about it in training, she made it sound like a piece of cake. “It’s ok for you to be frustrated about XX,” “it’s not ok for you to yell at me about it.” Huh. Sounds straightforward to me.

Except.

When I think about setting boundaries, it’s less a “piece of cake” and more a melted mud pie. So messy. But the flip side of not creating boundaries is resentment. If we don’t have a boundary around what’s ok and not ok, we give a “dirty yes,” the yes you regret, and resentment ensues. Not a recipe for successful relationships.

Boundaries are not a “line in the sand,” let’s be clear about that. They aren’t intended to keep people away, rather, they’re rules of engagement. For me, for you, to remain authentic, what is ok behavior and not ok behavior.

In order to create healthy boundaries, we first need to get clear on our values. What’s important to us, what guides the way. And from there, determine what behaviors allow us to stay within those values. I’ve learned from experience (and therapy!) that people pleasing only sets you up to lose track of your values, to operate outside of them so that you can keep someone else happy (which doesn’t really happen anyways.)

Once you’re clear on your values, operationalize them. Decide what they look like in practice and what will keep you authentic around values and what won’t. You could create a mantra to remind yourself. For example, integrity is one of my values. A mantra could look like, “integrity takes courage.” In the case of boundaries, courage because someone might be disappointed with me. And that’s ok. It rubs up against my peacemaking self, but peacemaking shouldn’t come at the cost of accepting behavior that pushes against my integrity and authenticity.

I often write about what I also need to learn and this is no exception. So, along with you, developing boundaries is a work in progress. But in order to stay within our own values, they’re necessary, and courageous. What they’re not is a “line in the sand,” challenging us to either be with or against someone. Instead, they encourage healthy relationships without resentment where we are our authentic selves. If you feel they’re hard, just keep practicing. You are courageous and bold, and beautifully authentic.

 

 

 

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Permission to feel

feel the feelingsWhile waiting for a flight recently, I struck up conversation with the guy next to me. Turns out, we were on the same journey, a quick weekend in Boston and now headed home. But our reasons couldn’t have been more different. Both were with family, but while mine was fun and adventure, his visited his gravely ill grandmother. He told me he didn’t think he was going to be able to go, but his cousin helped at the last moment. When I asked how she was doing, the answer was not well. It appeared she was going to pass away soon. Without a second breath, I found myself saying how fortunate it was he got to see her. “At least you got to be there.”

And then immediately caught myself. I’d rushed to sympathy instead of sitting with him in the emotion. Instead of empathy. Quickly, I changed course. Leaning in and talking about how hard it must be. Staying with whatever emotion this 20ish guy might be feeling about losing his grandmother.

It’s human nature to rush past emotion. To skip past empathy to get to the place where everything is better. “Look on the bright side,” “Something good will come from this,” “You’re better off.” The list could honestly go on forever, the variations having morphed over time to fit the situation.

Yet, we need to feel emotion, and, when the situation presents itself, to be side by side with others as they feel, if for nothing else to give them time to feel. Feel the highs and the lows.

Another tactic we use, a personal favorite, is to stay busy, productive. Nobody can fault me for that. I’m getting crap done. Except what I most need to do at times, which is to wrestle through the feelings. I know I’m not alone in this tactic, Brené Brown wrote about it;

“Crazy-busy is a great armor, it’s a great way for numbing. What a lot of us do is that we stay so busy, and so out in front of our life, that the truth of how we’re feeling and what we really need can’t catch up with us.”

Ouch.

Armor is nothing more than the defensive tactics we use to protect ourselves. From emotion, from what we need to feel, from up close life with people, including ourselves. You may be getting a tremendous amount done, hiding behind the socially acceptable guise of productivity, but it’s protection.

When we avoid the feelings, they don’t go away, the burrow down inside of us and wait for the most inopportune time to emerge. It’s because we haven’t looked at them face to face and wrestled through what they’re telling us.

Depending on the circumstance, they can run the gamut. Everything conceivable and even some we don’t want to own up to. I had an interesting conversation with a professional in these matters the other day who told me that societally, women are given permission to feel everything but anger, yet anger is the only emotion men can safely feel.

I found that fascinating but have seen it play out time and time again. I, for one, am quite anger adverse. It feels unsafe to me. Not a rational thought, but it’s the story I tell myself. In fact, I’m quite unaware to any anger I feel. And when faced with anger in another person, it feels more abrasive than it likely is. I feel it in my body, as though my center is being thrown off kilter. But anger is only an emotion. One that each of us can and do feel. The sooner we acknowledge that the better.

So, what of all this? What do we do with the emotions, the feelings?

Get down in the mud and wrestle with them. When we avoid, we defer. The feelings, emotions, will not go away. They lie dormant and until we process through, we might feel stuck.

And to the degree we can support another through the same journey, all the better. Feel the feelings and put down the armor that you think is keeping you safe, but in reality is doing nothing except allowing you to be numb and stuck, and distant from true self and others.

Our journey to authenticity is bumpy, and messy, and emotional. Be brave my dears, we’re on the path together.

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Slow down, rest is calling

Front DoorWhen I was avidly cycling, my friends and I used to participate in double centuries. 200 miles in one stretch, filled with laughter, camaraderie, lots of food, some pain, and endurance. By the time I was riding the doubles, I’d built up strength and speed. Not Lance Armstrong speed by any stretch, but enough to hold my own. Around mile 150 of the Davis Double, on a hot – I mean, cook an egg on the pavement hot – day, we came upon a fellow cyclist. The community of cyclists participating in these rides is not immense, so it was someone we’d ridden with many times.

By my recollection, he was just over 80 years old and truckin’ along, but starting to fade. My friend decided to ride in with him and our group agreed to hang back with her. But it meant slowing way down. And it was hard! I wouldn’t have thought slowing down would have been harder than keeping up a quick pace, but to my amazement, it was. In the end, we all rode in together. I’d realized a fact that has proven true in many areas of life.

Slowing down can be trickier than keeping up the mad pace we set for ourselves. I come from a family that never slows down. Constant activity fills the day. I’m not around them all the time anymore and have slipped into a slower pace of life, but my default is to action.  And while action mode gets stuff done, it lacks time for restoration.

Going into this weekend, I had grand plans to relax, to treat myself…birthday present to me. I thought about going on an adventure, wandering in and out of unique shops somewhere I hadn’t been before. Literally up until Saturday morning, that was the plan. What did I do instead? Painted my front door… and I threw repainting a cabinet for good measure… and my nails, I mean, I’m not a savage. But I was busy all.day.long. While it resulted in a sense of satisfaction (presuming my door didn’t stick to the frame overnight…pray for me) I was tired. And maybe a little light-headed from breathing paint fumes all day long.

I’d replaced rest with action when what I really needed was the restoration my front door was treated to.

I’ve talked to friends about the internal battle, rest vs. staying in motion, and we share the struggle. Although there’s a trend toward self-care, the inclination is to measure ourselves against the results we achieve. Every single one of us needs rest. And taking that time doesn’t mean we’re lazy. Our internal monologue might tell us we’re being sloths but that’s not the truth.

The challenge is grant ourselves permission to rest. To avoid filling our day with activity. If you think back to ancient times, there’s a good reason crops were given a year of rest every seven, and people were instructed to have a day of rest each week. They knew what we’ve forgotten. We need time to slow down and feel the feelings, soak in the silence, and restore our bodies and minds.

Could you, just for today, choose rest over activity? If we stop, the world will go on, and we’ll be better off for it. Tomorrow will come and chances are, we’ll jump back in. But today, rest. You need it my friends. It’s part of the journey we’re taking together. Be brave.