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When selfish is self-care

IMG_1523I was called selfish the other day. It’s one of the worst insults to me, honestly. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture. I’m certain each of us has the insult that cut us to the core, and that’s the one for me. It’s rolled around in my head a couple days, and I should have known from the beginning it would make it to the page.

If you’ve ever been called selfish, you’ve likely spent an equal amount of time wondering if, in fact, it’s true. It’s one of those insults that might as well be followed with “shame on you.” Sometimes used as an Evangelical slam, it’s often said in a way meant to say you’re not following the Golden Rule, not loving others as I love myself. Interesting, because if you follow that paradigm, you have to love yourself. Hence, if you’re not doing that, taking care of yourself, you can’t love others.

There’s great debate around the idea of self-care. The idea that you’re spending time and energy to restore yourself. Maybe that’s taking a long bath, expressing yourself creatively, taking a walk, connecting with a friend. Self-care can be time spent alone, or with other people. If you don’t have a practice around self-care, you’d be wise to develop one. Whatever it is for you that restores your heart, mind, body and soul. It is not selfish to practice self-care.

It’s also not selfish to have your own thoughts, ideas and opinions. We are made by the Creator as unique individuals. We’re here to express who we are in the world. And our ideas might not align with those around us, friends, family, loved ones. They don’t have to. There’s a myth that those in close proximity to us are going to align with what we believe. Maybe. But not necessarily. Having our own thoughts and expressing them doesn’t make us selfish.

Leaning into our integrity. Also, not selfish. If we are clear about what we believe, it is incumbent upon us to walk it out. There are times for the sake of relationship when we compromise and walk alongside someone else following their own beliefs. There’s nothing wrong with that. In the beginning, no sweat. You walk along, stretched, but still clear on your own convictions. After a while, one of two things is going to happen. You might be influenced to change your perspective, to realign your beliefs. Or, you might start to feel the seeds of discontent within you. Something you can ignore for a time, but then not. Your integrity won’t allow you to continue to compromise yourself.

That’s where it gets tricky. Being vulnerable and having a tough conversation about the misalignment. Stand in your values and express what you need to stay within your integrity. Maybe not popular, but not selfish.

Making decisions that are ultimately going to be the best for you, even if painful for a time? Not selfish. Yes, there are times for sacrifice. We can not have what we want all the time. That’s called being a human person living with other human persons. We ebb and flow. But when that’s not happening, it’s not selfish to make hard choices.

Talking about being selfish and what it is and isn’t is uncomfortable at best. To some degree, it’s subjective. What’s selfish for you may not be for me. Neither wrong. It’s not a black and white issue. What I know for sure is that anything said to create feelings of shame is destructive. Shame has no place in a healthy conversation. Chances are, if you’re wondering if you’re being selfish, you’re probably not. You’re considering other people, which is the entire point. We’re here to do our lives together. We can’t do that if we’re not taking care of ourselves, physically and most importantly emotionally, taking care of our soul.

Don’t let anyone make you feel less than, make you feel small or shameful for taking care of yourself. It’s you job. And doing it well isn’t selfish. It’s healthy. It’s self-preservation.

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What do you want to say?

the road that led hereIf you’ve had children, you likely recall the phrase, “use your words.” During that stage when they’ve begun talking, but are not yet English fluent, a child will revert to the behaviors that got them what they want. They’ll use the primal techniques that they instinctively knew as infants to communicate their needs, crying being at the top of the list. They’ll point, cry…anything but speak…in an effort to get what they want. In the moment, they cannot find the words to communicate what they want or what they’re feeling.

I can relate. There are times when I find it difficult to express what I’m feeling, what I’m thinking. I’ve researched the brain/body connection enough to know that in stress, our bodies are flooded with Cortisol and our Amygdala, the reptilian brain, takes over. Our Prefrontal Cortex, the rational part of our brain, doesn’t stand a chance. Our Amygdala causes the fight or flight response. It’s what saved us from the tigers. When I’m in a stress situation, I can observe losing my words, I can’t articulate what I’m thinking and if pressed, it only becomes worse.

I’ve started thinking about transformational periods of my life, certain ages where the events shifted how I saw the world, how I saw myself. The one that comes to mind easily is when I was in the hospital for my foot amputation. Overall, I recall that as a benign experience. My adult self recalls wheelchair races and playing with the babies in the ward next to mine. But part of my mind also thinks about the solitude. Being in the hospital with no family around. I don’t remember talking to anyone except the nurses, an occasional doctor and, of course, my parents when they visited. Feelings that arose within me during that time had nowhere to go. You have to be a good girl, behave, follow the rules. Yet, four is an age where your mind is still developing who you are, laying down the track of your foundational memories, thoughts about the world and behaviors.

As an adult, I want to ask that little girl what she would tell me today. The insights she would share, given the time to articulate in words what she was feeling. Through research and wisdom from a teacher, I’m learning that we can go back and ask. The memories are stored within our mind. Neuroscience studies have show that when presented with a narrative of a stressful time, our minds react as if the event were happening in the moment. It stands to reason that our minds can also recall formational memories. The value of understanding what shapes us is using it to create a new narrative. If there were times that told us we had to behave, believe, respond certain ways, there was a reason, but that reason doesn’t necessarily exist today.

Our experiences shape who we are and prepare us for the life we’re living. But we’re not passive participants. We can look back, listen to our inner wisdom, the voice of ourselves at those critical moments in life, and understand that what was true then may not be true now. We’re not required to stay on a fixed road, we can shift.

With the understanding of what our younger self learned, what it has to tell us, we can make different choices. We can calm our reptilian brain and remind it that we’re not escaping from a tiger. We’re no longer in that moment, trapped by flooding emotions. It’s a matter of understanding that experience is in the past and not the truth today. We can articulate what we have to say about the trajectory of our life. And we must. It’s our journey to live, and we’re in it together. Live it boldly, aware of who you are and how you got here. I’m on the path with you.

 

 

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Embracing our changing purpose

Graceful AgingWhen I decided to move to the area where I live, I spent several weekends travelling to the area to look at homes. One weekend, I’d nearly given up and was taking a drive through one last neighborhood. Tired, a little defeated, frustrated the “right” house hadn’t jumped out yet. Driving through that area, I noticed a semi-truck with a livestock trailer. Suddenly, out from the trailer came sheep after sheep, I think nearly 200! Honestly, it was so delightful I simply sat at watched them, curious about their presence.

What I’ve since learned, now that I live in that same neighborhood, is that my town uses sheep to clear weeds from the open green belt spaces.  Each year, the sheep are brought in and within a day or two, the grass and weeds are gone. I take time to watch them and when they were recently in our area, I was thinking about the herd. These are not the young, sexy sheep. Quite the opposite. They’re older, their coats are in various states of falling off, some are white, but others black, brown or spotted. Most definitely, they are past the prime of their life, but have found a second calling. They serve a purpose.

Each year I watch the sheep, I think about the purpose they’re serving. At the same time, I ponder the purpose each of us serves as we grow older. I read a quote that we start living at 40 and up to that point we’re still doing research. I can attest to that, and would stretch it closer to 50, now that I’m there and can see the lessons continuing to unfold.

There’s a tipping point that I’ve noticed happens somewhere around the late 40’s early 50’s where you take stock. It’s the realization that the “building” that we focus on when we’re younger…build the career, home, family…is maybe not done, but no longer requires the attention we previously gave it. And many of us ask, what now? What’s next? My big question is “how do I want to ride out my life?”

I now understand the reinvention that happens in middle age. It’s more of a redefinition, one which is still in the works for me, but has involved reading and reading and reading some more to figure out how I got here. It’s not a searching, it’s an examination, looking at what works and what doesn’t to decide what to carry forward.

That examination has also shifted to looking at what I bring to the party, what do I know. It’s a question each of us can ask. After a lot of living and experience, we have homed in on our talents. We know what we like and don’t and can drop the parts that don’t work for us. There’s a quiet confidence that emerges in middle age. Not blustery or ego driven. A confidence that allows us to ask harder questions about the systems and beliefs that were handed to us. We might find that some of what we’d been taught doesn’t make sense anymore or requires additional thought. The careers we pursued because they made sense, but do they anymore? Maybe. Or maybe with some tweaks.

Each of us continues to have a purpose, but the values which drive it may have changed. And that’s ok. If we don’t continue to grow, we’re dying. I was accused of changing a few months ago, to which I simply replied, yes, I have. It’s part of life.

What about you? Is the focus and purpose you established earlier in life still on point? If you’re following the same one because you feel you must, you don’t. Especially if it’s the path someone else laid out for you. It’s our journey, friends. One that leads us to unexpected places, discovering ourselves as we go, and living out our best lives. We have the wisdom, are brave and courageous and are moving down a new path together.

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Owning YOUR Story

Owning your storyEvery 4 ½ minutes, a baby is born with a birth defect in the United States. That’s nearly 120,000 babies born with birth defects each year. In my estimation, the prevalence of birth defects in the late 1960’s when I was born was perhaps more, because maternal care was not as sophisticated as today. Though I don’t have the stats on it, the advancement of medical care through the years has also likely resulted in a decrease in the long-term effects of some birth defects.

When I was born, the doctors knew I had a birth defect in my foot that would likely result in amputation. Too much blood in my foot, that’s how I always described it. By the time I was 4 ½ I was in the hospital undergoing the predicted amputation. After 3 months at Shriner in San Francisco, I returned home to Yosemite to adjust and carry on with the business of being a little girl.

Around the time I was 8, my folks divorced and I moved with my mother a few hours away to start the 3rd grade. We moved a year later and life at home was somewhat chaotic the next six years. In high school, I returned to Yosemite to live with my Dad until college.

Purposefully I tell that portion of my story at a high level. The early years, the time I was in the hospital was extremely impactful, it created my lifelong love of medicine and the comfort I experience when I visit the doctor, have medical procedures, spend time in the hospital. I look back on that time with warm fuzzies.

What I’ve noticed about the middle part is that I have little to say about it and at the same time, volumes. But telling your story to another person is an act of vulnerability. It’s opening up, exposing yourself. Your version might be whimsical, magical, mundane, average, or it might be raw.

Here’s the thing, your story is no one else’s. But what happens sometimes is that people will layer their own judgement, or experience over yours and try to mirror back what they presume you must have felt, when in fact, it’s not accurate.

And when you’re first exploring your feelings around childhood or significant life events, you might listen. You could be tempted to add a layer of experience that wasn’t there. “It must have been so hard for you. You must have missed… You must have felt…” If you’re sharing your story, in that raw space of vulnerability, still figuring it out, you might question your recollection.

I could easily look back on being in the hospital and think about the lack, my parents weren’t there the majority of the time. There was no Ronald McDonald house, it was the norm for parents to visit only on the weekend. But that would overshadow the overwhelmingly positive impact that experience had on my life. My messy middle? I could call that the crazy, and there may be days where I do. But I’ve gone back and explored my feelings about that time, and still, I would describe it as generally fine.

Your story is yours alone. Other people’s insertions, interpretations, the overwhelming inclination of some people to analyze your “family of origin,” has its place. But it’s a small space. Continuing to rehash over and over? Exhausting. I’ve learned that when you’re first exploring your story you might be like a sponge and listen to what others insert. But as you rumble with your story, you will determine what it truly is for you. Other’s opinions can fall by the wayside, they can, frankly, back off.

Brené Brown writes that owning your story is the bravest thing you’ll ever do. I wholeheartedly agree. Whatever it is for you, let it be your own. No one can take that away from you. You are brave, strong and worthy of your own experience. Be authentically you. I’m on the journey with you.

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Being present with today

Patience of NatureDoes anyone else enjoy an afternoon hanging out in a sub-zero movie theater when it’s 105 degrees outside in the shade? Literal fry an egg on the pavement weather. I’ll quickly jump on that train as an escape and, hopefully, to be entertained. Which I was last weekend, enjoying The Farewell.

I’ll openly admit subtitles are not my normal jam, but this film transitioned in and out of Chinese, so I had no choice. Easily overlooked given the sweetness and care given to the subject. The film was based in part on the life experiences of the director, Lulu Wang, and depicts a family who, upon learning their beloved grandmother has only months to live, decide not to tell her and instead plan a family gathering before she dies.

Though underlying tensions about the decision not to tell the grandmother existed throughout, the secret was kept. Family members made sacrifices to keep the news secret. Enjoying a celebration filled with laughter, family and friends, you watch what you presume are the grandmother’s final days. Only to learn in the credits of the film (and in full disclosure, spoiler alert), the grandmother had not passed six years later when the film was made.

Leaving the theater, melancholic feelings washed over me. A warm sweetness largely brought about by the portrayal of the care and concern the family had to protect their grandmother. The film lingered with me for other reasons as well, wondering if there was something to the innocent ignorance on behalf of the grandmother and her prolonged health.

I’ve realized I’m at a tipping point in life where health issues are perhaps less “issues” and more a byproduct of entering middle age. My curiosity for all things medical though is so strong that when I sense something is wrong, I want to figure it out. Good or bad, that’s led to more than I bargained for. And while my medical curiosity is fed, I wonder about the benefits of not knowing.

Through much research and study, I understand the influence our minds have on our overall health. If we experience stress, that impacts our bodies, more than I’d like to acknowledge in my case. But our minds…they call a lot of the shots.

I’ve begun to realize that in some instances, perhaps we’re better off to not know what’s going on inside of us (ok…I wonder that but at the same time hope they invent the human version of the diagnostic tool used to figure out why the check engine light is on in your car…so.many.possibilities). What would we do differently if we weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop? Knowing we have X Y or Z condition that could manifest at any time. Like the grandmother in The Farewell who continued thriving because she wasn’t worried, looking for the manifestation of her illness.

What if instead our minds weren’t distracted with problems and we focused on living? Often, we rush to nail down what’s next. In health, what will be the next symptom or sign we’re watching for (which is not a statement against medical treatment – don’t mistake me – it’s over analyzing each ache and pain that perhaps in a natural byproduct of having lived 50, 60 or more years). In life, a posture of waiting for conditions to be exactly right for happiness, the right weight, a perfect relationship, job success. We put off being in the moment and patiently waiting for what’s next in an urgency to get conditions exactly right.

Could we choose to slow down? To live in a space of not knowing, and being content with that? Not rushing to the conclusion, the answer…and instead sit with the knowledge that you’re doing, being, feeling, exactly what you’re supposed to in this moment. Take a breath and sit with who you are today. Enjoy the sweet simpleness that arises when you’re present with yourself and those around you? I believe it’s worth the effort. Worth putting down the worries that occupy our minds and simply be.

What about you? What do you need to put down and be patient about so that you can be in the moment, enjoying life and those around you? Once you let the burden go, you might miss it for a while, but the abundance that can fill that space is worth the shift. Give it a try, I’m on the journey with you.

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How to say Yes to the right things

Can't do it allCalifornia recently emerged from a drought that lasted 376 weeks. From December 2011 to March 2017, the state endured one of the most intense droughts in California history. The cause was attributed to a ridge of high pressure in the Pacific Ocean, named the “Ridiculously Resilient Ridge” which often barred winter storms from reaching the state. Researchers can see evidence of past droughts by analyzing tree rings, smaller during periods of drought.

For those of you living in the state, you will recall the winter storm blasts beginning in 2017. Snow for days. The cumulative effect resulted in the state being declared drought free by mid-March 2019. I live not far from Truckee, California – near Lake Tahoe – and the stories of the snow piling up around the town were intense. There was literally nowhere to put the snow it fell in such abundant quantities.

At the same time the California drought was in a period of recovery, my creative life was in a season of drought. The internal stirring to create was strong, but nothing was happening. Creativity for me is more than creative arts, yes, it’s that, painting, writing, but it’s also putting together groups, pouring into others. That area? Nothing, nada. And I felt it rolling around inside me in the form of frustration. I kept dreaming and the “I want to,” phrase was one I told myself frequently as I worked through ideas, but they never came to fruition.

Until they did.

Within the last month, it’s as though the floodgates have opened. The drought ended, and rain began pouring from the sky. When that happens after a period of environmental drought? There’s a risk of a flash flood. The ground can only absorb the moisture so fast and the additional water must go somewhere, anywhere.

What was one, two opportunities became five and six and as I reflected on the abundance, on how I would juggle, a mixture of excitement and overwhelmed was cooking inside me. Overwhelmed won, for a moment.

But I realized that I had a choice. I could do anything I wanted, but I couldn’t do it all. Tough to come to grips with for someone who prides herself just that. Who doesn’t want to let anyone down by saying no. At this phase in life though, wisdom prevailed. We might think we have to do it all, but we don’t. What we need to do is realize where our strengths and talents lie and lean in. The other stuff, the stuff that’s fun and we have interest in?  That’s all well and good, but if it spreads us too thin, if it pulls away from our area of strength, should we pursue it? For me, the answer was no.

Because, although the period of drought is fresh in my mind, thinking that there will never be other opportunities like this is a scarcity mindset. There will be more. For any of us, if we choose an abundance mindset, there will be more. When we have the abundance mindset, it’s easier to stay within our boundaries. Saying yes to the right things and being comfortable saying no to the not quite right things.

What are you saying yes to right now that you should be saying no? The choice is yours but if you’re saying a soft yes, a wavering yes, an “I guess so,” yes…the answer is probably no. You can say no. There will be more. And when you can say a strong yes? You’ll know it’s right and as you lean in to your areas of strength, you’ll find abundance will continue to flow into all the right places in your life.

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Create your own adventure

Big AdventureAdventurous. Isn’t that an adjective we hope people use when describing us? Up for anything. Ready for any anything. Traveler, experience seeker…all of it. I’d like to call myself an adventurer. I love exploring places I’ve never been, love finding somewhere new. Love the idea of travel. Picking up at a moment’s notice and taking off, no plans…open to whatever comes my way.

But what do I look like in real life? Dreaming of those adventures but spending Saturday night watch the latest Netflix original movie, Otherhood. Would I recommend it? No. A tale of moms of late 20-something boys who find themselves on the outside of their son’s lives. Can I relate? I’m going to say no and leave it at that. I love my mama’s boys…but I digress…

I found myself ruminating about the dichotomy of what my dreams are and what I actually do. As always, there’s more than one factor at play. It’s likely that way with any area of disconnect in our lives. The causes are not black and white. There are shades of grey, or, ombre if I’m being hip and cool #lifegoals.

What started my rambling thoughts was an idea that popped into my head as I was waking up the other day. I love Santa Cruz and I started dreaming about how fun it would be to drive over for an adventurous weekend. Not more than a minute later the naysayer voice started. It’s a long way…it’s only you…what will you do…are you worth spending the money to get a hotel… Flooding into my mind, as though the thoughts were waiting to pounce, waiting to squash the dream.

Except this time, I caught them.

Startled into full alertness, I realized the path I went down. Killing my own dreams because I didn’t feel “worth it.” What…the…hell??? A trip to Santa Cruz? Come on now. It’s not that complicated. Hotel, cheap eats, some Starbucks…easy-peasy. But I’d stopped it. I could tell the thought process was going down the path of, stay safe and content in your own house…minimize risks…save your money. Valid, but not overriding reasons to skip an adventure.

Scouring my memories, I recalled that I have had numerous adventures over the years. How did those happen if I barely wanted to leave my cozy chair today? Friends, that’s how. I had Rockstar adventurous girlfriends who led me down the path to bike trips. To places in California I’d never seen before, beautiful, stunning even, stretches of the coast that everyone should see. From the seat of my bike, I explored California with gusto, because I had buddies. A trip to Ireland years ago happened because a friend wanted to go and I tagged along for the ride. Guinness does taste better in Dublin.

Maybe the answer to adventure is two-fold, it could be for any of us. Believing you are worth it, because you are, and having the motivation. In the past my friends motivated me, and maybe that’ll be the case again, but travelling for the pure joy of it is motivation enough for me. Honestly, solo travel has appeal.

An adventurous life may not be the dream you sidestep. It may be going back to school, or learning piano, guitar, another language, or maybe starting a new business, or insert your dream here. Whatever it is, tell yourself deep down that you are worth it. Period. End of story. Every single one of us could come up with endless reasons not to pursue a dream, instead, say yes. Don’t wait another minute. And to make sure it happens? Accountability. Friends to do it with you, or who will ask you about it. People who you trust and who will follow up for your better good, not to hassle you. Your tribe are your allies, engage them to push you towards your dreams.

It’s a journey for every one of us, let’s keep taking it together. Be brave, Be authentic, Be bold my friends.

 

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Standing in the Wilderness

Stand in the WildernessBold. The word I chose for 2019 which I’m trying to live out. But… in a lot of instances I feel pretty squishy. I am open to a wide variety of perspectives, options. I steer clear of most issues many in the general population get fired up about. Rant about on their social media. It’s just not who I am.

For one, it rubs up against my peacemaking nature. My default is go along to get along. Granted, as I get older I have more opinions about a broader range of topics but given a choice I’ll keep it to myself. Squishy. I can see things both ways.

But…there are a few things. Chocolate, yes. Candy that sticks in your teeth, no. Tacos, yes. Liver, hell no! Ok, that’s easy stuff, but lest I offend you, I’ll hold my tongue on others (in and ode to my true Enneagram 9 self).

The other day I was thinking about the nature behind taking a stand and what has caused me to do so on a few key issues. Key in my life at least. I surprisingly discovered when I’m challenged on my view, I become stronger in my own conviction. I don’t waffle, I don’t change my mind. I get stronger.

The revelation surprised me, and I realized it only in hindsight. Through a recent difficult stretch in life, I was definitely challenged. Or maybe less challenged, more judged, for my perspectives. Which only caused me to feel stronger about my beliefs.

Why does that happen? We can go one of two ways when challenged. Either crumble, acquiesce, or we can take a stand. Stand for what we believe for that belief that it at the essence of who we are. What I experienced in real life was what Brené Brown describes in her book Braving the Wilderness. She writes about what people are most worried about, and in her research found:

“the idea of belonging that was most important, with many yearning to “be part of something–to experience real connection with others–but not at the cost of their authenticity, freedom or power.”

We all desire to belong and human nature often twists that into that tendency to get along for the sake of it. Which only leads to our own dissatisfaction. Brené goes on to say:

“Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval, which are not only hollow substitutes for belonging, but often barriers to it. Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”

For one of the first times, and perhaps the most important time, I’ve taken a stand. More than that, I’ve shifted how I show up in life, and what is ok for me and what’s not.

And I found myself in the wilderness.

In the relationship where I was bravely authentic, where I took a stand, the wilderness became my solace. There’s peace in the wilderness when you know that you have stood up for what you believe. Have quietly, but firmly, remained authentic in the face of opposition. Only in that place can you truly understand what it requires to have belonging that comes from your own self-acceptance. Belonging not dependent upon other’s approval.

Taking a stand for what you believe honors your authentic self. It’s tangible evidence to yourself that your opinion, your belief matters. Hold on to that. Risk braving the wilderness. You’re worth it.

 

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Life is not a dress rehearsal

Life that's waitingMy Dad has a saying he’s adopted as I’ve gotten older, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” He encourages us to live full, engaged lives…to do our best. I remind myself of this reality on a regular basis. But it’s so easy to get tripped up along the way…sometimes I wonder if that’s what I’ve mastered…the misstep.

At an early age we begin asking children what they want to be when they grow up. As parents, we have our own dreams for our children which are most likely merely continuations of our own dreams. To have a son-in-law, daughter-in-law, grandchildren…our dreams, not necessarily our theirs.

The reality is that life rarely works out like we think it will. Ok, never. I’ll be bold and say never.

Life is messy. The so called “path” we travel down looks more like a game of Chutes and Ladders. You move forward, go back, slide down, unexpectedly move up…throw in a few more twists and turns…now you have a picture of what life is truly like.

So, if it’s not a dress rehearsal, what is the “play” we’re in? What if we complicate our outlook by holding on so tightly to the picture of what we thought life would look like that we can’t see the one that’s right in front of us? Or we continue to show up for a version of our life that is no longer working?

So…many…conflicting…thoughts.

We likely know when our lives are off track. If we don’t consciously know it, our bodies will begin to tell us. Stress compounds, aches, pains…for me, it’s my gut that talks to me. I can literally feel the stress “in the pit of my stomach.” You might have headaches, lose sleep, the disconnect makes itself known to our bodies faster than to our conscious minds. Pay attention.

Midlife has been the time when I’ve begun to see the disconnects. Realized that I’ve been stuck in dress rehearsal for too long. Which, on the one hand, keeps me safe…but I’m not fully engaged either. What makes me sad is knowing there are many others who are on the same trajectory.

Showing up for real life instead of a dress rehearsal requires us to let go of the disconnect. The dream that is not the reality of our life. The vision of how we thought life would be. There’s a grieving that comes along with that. Letting go. Grieving whatever the loss is for you, because it’s different for each of us.

When you shift your perspective, see where you’re holding on to a dream that no longer serves you, or that’s changed, you can show up for the life you’re creating today. What you’re letting go wasn’t wasted, it shaped you into who you are today, but you’ve outgrown it. When you show up for your life today, show up fully. Embrace the opportunities, the realities open to you once you let go and begin gazing upon what’s unfolding before your eyes. It’s our journey friends, you’re not alone.

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Strength emerging through storms

Make you strongTears started welling up quickly the other day. It was the end of a long, stressful time in life. Tension and stress that built up over a prolonged period and had not yet found a place to release. Tears had not yet found their way to my eyes, but I knew they were coming, I wasn’t sure when, but I knew it was a matter of time.

Our bodies are adaptable to great levels of stress. I read a book once about using stress for success. Adapting and essentially using stress as a catalyst. Which it can be. Like anger, it can propel us into action. But what is really driving that ship? Most commonly it’s the avoidance of a negative consequence. Or, as with anger, it can be driven from hurt.

I’ve gone down quite a few rabbit holes researching to effects of stress. Yes, it can drive you into action. But while it was formerly an intangible condition, medical experts are now saying that consistent exposure to high levels of stress can lead to a myriad of health conditions. Immune system issues, high blood pressure, weight problems, anxiety, the list is lengthy. So, while you may outwardly adapt, your body is keeping track. It absorbs the stress and the consequences may be unseen but are slowly deteriorating your health.

When the tears started forming, they weren’t over anything catastrophic. They were the outward evidence of the culmination of stress in my body. What did they start over? A Wi-Fi router. Really. A router that stopped working for me unexpectedly. That I needed to watch television, my recent friend and escape. When I discovered it wasn’t working, the tears involuntarily started, and were vastly disproportionate to the situation at hand.

The tears weren’t about the router. Just like when you snap at someone when you’re stressed, or lash out, it’s only a symptom of the underlying stress. We can hold only so much inside before it spills out and it’s usually something little that does it.

When you’re in a period of stress that seemingly ends, one would hope you could instantly return to life as normal. It doesn’t work that way. I was thinking about the unwinding of stress within the body and was reminded of Scuba Divers. When they’ve been in the depths for a long period of time, they cannot return to the surface quickly. A diver who rises to quickly risks decompression sickness, typically known as the bends, which is described as “a condition arising from dissolved gases coming out of solution into bubbles inside the body on depressurization,” (Wikipedia)

The unravelling happens over time, it must. If we push the pace, we heal, but it takes longer and we might get the bends which you only avoid by rising to the surface slowly. As stress slowly fades away, you find that you’re stronger. You’ve allowed the stress to leave your body and healed. You can’t rush that process, it’ll happen on its own with some intentionality. Self-care, some TV binging maybe (just saying…not a long-term solution but it can help!), a period of readjustment. One day, you’ll wake up and feel different, a shift. You’ll realize that you feel whole again, stronger and happier. Love yourself on the journey and love others you meet along the path. Happiness is right around the corner.