Daring greatly for calm and stillness

Real life is the best classroom. No joke. As I transverse my way through the steps of life, and when I’m paying attention, it’s as though I’m observing myself. I know, I’m a little odd. Accepted. In this journey through my wholehearted year, with a focus this month on letting go of anxiety and embracing calm and stillness, I must admit a few of my own behaviors that get in the way of that. I’m learning that when I push through anxiety and dare greatly, as Brené Brown would say, the calm and stillness follow.

How much anxiety do we bring on ourselves?

If I’m honest, I’m fairly certain the amount of anxiety I experience in my life has a causal link to the inner workings of my mind. As someone who desires peace all the time (an unattainable standard admittedly), the tendency to avoid necessary conflict is ultimately detrimental to my sense of calm. When thinking about a conversation I need to have, for example, I think of the entire scenario. How many possible directions could it go, what will be my response, what will they say, is it worth it, can I survive without this conversation? You know, the full gamut.

As we spend those moments, ok, more like hours, in our own minds, the amount of good that comes from it is proportionately less as time goes on. There’s link between our mental gymnastics about an action, a conversation, a change, and how much anxiety we have about it. I’ve noticed that when I choose to dare greatly, it brings the calm and stillness I crave.

How to be daring…greatly…

In the quest for peace, and to be wholehearted in how I make my way through life, Brené Brown has been my patron saint. Because I connect to her and what she has to say. Reducing anxiety…and to be clear, I’m not talking about clinical anxiety, for which I fully endorse seeking whatever support you need…the anxiety we bring on ourselves, is choice. Albeit an unconscious choice. By overthinking, overanalyzing, we do everything except what we need to do. Take action.

Daring greatly is stepping into the arena. For me, it’s knowing that peace will be the result when I speak up, speak out, for what I believe. The truth is that on the way to peace, to calm and stillness, I might get a little bloody. In fact, I might get my ass kicked. Or not. We may find that the greatest confidence, calm and stillness, comes from stepping in and speaking about what we believe. It requires we take the first step when what we may want to do it pull back and stay ‘safe’ in our minds. At the end of the day, it’s not safe at all. It only brings on anxiety.

Take the first step, and the second, and third

Over the last week, I chose to dare greatly by having a conversation that intimidated me. Truth is, the only reason it intimidated me was the story I made up in my own mind. When I started speaking, pushing anxiety aside, at first, I felt flush in my cheeks and tightness in the pit of my stomach, But I became increasingly calm because I spoke about something I believed passionately in. All the uncertainty melted away. There was risk, most decidedly, but I refused to speak anything besides what was true for me.

And you can too. Daring greatly doesn’t require you to have any particular ability, it’s acquired skill learned by doing. It’s a decision to step in, not knowing the outcome. Understanding you might get your ass kicked and get bloodied. But you have not greater strength in that moment because you are being true to yourself. From that place, calm and stillness will evolve. We may not see it immediately, but…wait for it. Check in with yourself and I believe you’ll find a sense of calm, and peace, because you matter and what you have to say matters.

I am with you, my friends. We’re on the journey together. Be brave. Lisa

 

 

Overcoming decision indecision

Upon stepping foot into the office, aka, my living room, these days, I am called upon to make decisions. Not mamsy pamsy decisions either. No. How much to pay people, should someone else be disciplined, another might need to go to the doctor, do we need to deep clean because of a COVID…and then flip a switch…how to reward someone, what to order, how do we do it, what’s the policy, do I really have to follow XYZ? On average, people make 35,000 decisions a day, using a wide range of techniques. Mental gymnastics throughout the day. By the time it’s 5 p.m. I’m cooked. Zapped. Nothing left in this brain of mine.

Not surprisingly for an Enneagram 9, the Peacemaker, I want to keep everybody calm and conflict free. Which means I hold space for whoever needs it.

Except me.

Someone else make the decision

Perhaps it’s making all the decisions in the course of my workday, but when it comes to my personal life, I’m decidedly indecisive. I’ll fret over what to order when I go out to eat to such an extent that I’d rather not go. I literally eat the same thing at home nearly every single day. I’ve wanted to redo my fireplace for a couple years, but can’t decide how I want it, so it remains whatever you called décor 20 years ago. I call it unsightly and drab. I drink the same coffee, black with Stevia, no need for fancy.

When I was married, I’d drive my husband nuts because he would ask where I wanted to go out to eat and I typically deferred. Truly, anywhere, I don’t want to decide.

What if it’s the wrong decision???

Literal fret fest. I had a moment today where I stepped outside myself and realized I was going down a wormhole picking out a new desk. I ordered one and when I set it up yesterday, my son told me it looked too small. Dammit, he was right and until I determined how to return it and what the replacement would be, my mind was on auto drive. If I make the wrong decision…what a waste…of time, of energy…possibly of money.

There was no peace, which I crave with all my soul, until I had restored order…in my house and mind.

Anxiety much?

All this decision indecision does nothing except produce anxiety. Exactly the opposite of what I desire. It winds me up inside like a top and although I endeavor to keep it at bay, the pinging won’t stop until I resolve what’s out of order. My son laughed at me the other day when he heard me on a call asking “is that something you need to share with me?” Not yet…”when will you share that with me,” When I can, “when will that be?” (new angle) “is there anything I need to prepare for?” He came downstairs and found much hilarity in the fact that I couldn’t get an answer.

Because too often when he and his brother were teenagers, I could tell something was wrong. “What’s wrong,” I don’t want to talk about it, “you’ll feel better if you talk about it,” I don’t want to, “I can help you if you talk about it,” No, “it’s not good to keep it bottled up. Talk to me about it,” sigh…fine. Akin to when my little brother would sit on my chest, pinning me down, when we were kids and poke, poke, poke my chest bone. Stoppppp.

It’s really not that big a deal

Granted, the desk situation literally happened today. Overall, though, here’s what I’ve learned. I offer this to my kindred spirits who may also struggle with indecision. I’ve realized that asking ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ puts everything into perspective. The tough decisions? 75% of those I make at work. And I assure you, I can make a decision like nobody’s business at work.

It’s when the decision relates to us, that’s when the struggle bus shows up at the door and says, “jump on in.” But we don’t have to. It helps to simply start making decisions. They might be wrong, and that’s ok. The anxiety and fret that otherwise ensues is 1000% not worth it. Not one little bit. Or you can simplify areas of your life that would otherwise require an overabundance of decision making. That’s me and food. I no longer have the attachment to food I once did, and it is worth the peace of mind I have resulting from a repetitive menu.

If we give ourselves space and time, we can overcome decision indecision. Making the shift from choosing a lifestyle of anxiety and shifting to calm and stillness is part of the journey to Wholehearted Living. When we let go, peace and calm will flood in and anxiety will flow out. I’m on the journey with you my friends. Be Brave. Lisa

 

 

Why we need to BE not DO

Frenetic energy. I hadn’t heard the term in quite some time, but it landed in the midst of a training I led this week. Defined, frenetic is an adjective describing an activity marked by fast and energetic, disordered, or anxiety-driven activity. The woman used the term to describe a person’s energy, and I’m not sure why’s it continues to poke around in my mind, perhaps because it struck a nerve. You see, I’m Lisa, and I struggle to be not do.

Overcoming the drive to “DO”

‘Whatcha doing?’ Rolls of our tongues before we even realize it. Habit. Because, well, everyone is doing something, right? It’s wired into us to do, constantly, what did you do this weekend? What are you doing on vacation? What are you doing at work today? We do constantly, and when the need to do goes into overdrive, the risk of becoming frenetic easily creeps into the picture.

Take a deep breath and think about your yesterday. What was it filled with? Mine? Up early, went for a walk with a friend, cleaned my house, did 4+ loads of laundry, picked up lunch, drove to a friend’s, came home, more laundry, cooked dinner and collapsed. How about you? Be honest. Was it filled with activity similar to mine or??? That’s the question. If I wasn’t frenetically consumed with a clean house and using my precious time off to check more tasks off a list instead of connection with others or more importantly, myself…what on earth would I…wait for it…do.

How else can we define our time?

My Brené Brown Wholehearted Living Guidepost this month is Letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle / Embrace calm and stillness. Honestly, I’ve seen this one on the horizon and wondered how I’d overcome the lifestyle carefully curated to do rather than be.

 Be. Let it be. What if you answered the query “what are you doing this weekend,” with “Letting it be?” I wonder the response you’d get, or I’d get. Perhaps like I was a three headed hippie? Frankly, the pace of society is frenetic and although we complain about it, we must find some comfort in it, because in this moment, with the country in stages of shutdown, we wistfully long to get out and do something. We may be feeling as though we’re wasting month after month, at home, socially distanced, not doing.

Except we are still doing. I continue to read of frenetic energy redirected to their homestead. Re-decorating projects, new landscaping, closets cleaned out, sourdough bread made…because, the horror if we actually rested as we shelter in place.

You might find yourself forced to be

Last November, surgery on my foot rendered me immobile, literally, for 6 weeks. Prior to the surgery, I believed I’d be able to go to work in a week. Staying at home seemed wasteful. So much to do. Imagine my surprise when, instead of bounding back to work, at the end of 6 weeks, I asked my doctor for another. Not quite ready to jump back into anything. After about 2 weeks, I felt stress slipping away. Stress I didn’t realize I was carrying. And once I released it, the last thing I wanted to do was jump back on that train. I coveted the calm, the stillness, arising from being confined to a comfy chair in yoga pants. I had zero desire to interrupt that. My body told me to let it be.

Yet slowly, or maybe not so slowly, I resumed my activity level. Bringing all the activities, the frenetic sense of it, into my life. But why??? Honestly. No one, and I mean, no one, puts that expectation on me, or on you, beside you – and me. We all do it we ease back into what we called our normal life. As though it’s a suit of armor we slip on and once equipped, we’re more comfortable.

Give it a try – Let it Be

Maybe that’s part of it. We don’t know how to let it be. Ok, that’s fair. But how are we going to learn besides practice? That’s why I meditate each morning. Why I park it in my chair and chill in the evenings. Why I’m going to close my computer in a hot second and relax with a friend. I’m not claiming to be role model for it, but baby steps.

What baby steps can you, will you, take this week to let it be. The song’s lyrics tell us Whisper words of wisdom, let it be. Because there is wisdom in those 7 words. Collectively, let’s take a breath and be. Release any frenetic energy, it does not serve you today. And when someone asks you what you did this weekend, you can tell them I let it be. Be brave friends. Lisa

Steps toward letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle

Heart racing, cheeks flushed, hot flash…I can recall all the feelings that accompanied my first anxiety attack. I’d noticed I had been worrying more. Did I turn off the coffee maker, my hair straightener…did I close the garage door. My commute to work was short, maybe 10 minutes on a rough day, but the day I decided I would be late and turned around when I was nearly there to drive home and check if my garage door was shut, I decided that seemed atypical. Fast forward 10 years and I’m with my family vacationing. We’re getting ready to go to a Fourth of July parade and I don’t have enough time. Thoughts are jumbled, I’m unable to string my thoughts together and I can’t seem to navigate my way through a shower and out the door. In the end, I stayed behind, took a breath and caught up with the family a short time later.

A hidden disorder

Anxiety. It’s one of the most common mental disorders, impacting 18.1% of the population, that’s 40 million adults, every year. Because the words ‘mental disorder’ are included in the description, it’s also one people often don’t talk about, fearing a stigma, feeling embarrassed. As a result, despite being highly treatable, only 36.9% of population receive the help they need.

My sister-in-law was the wise sage who said to me after that vacation morning, “you don’t have to live like this.” She normalized taking medication for anxiety and shared that many of her friends did as well…and I do to this day.

Or a way of living?

But anxiety has become a way of living for so many of us. So, when I read the Brené Brown’s Wholehearted Living Guidepost I’ll be focusing on this month, letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle, cultivating stillness and calm, I’ll admit I cringed. I reasoned with myself, is it possible they can co-exist??? With all that swirls around us today, COVID-19, economic downturn, job uncertainty, don’t we have cause for anxiety? If we’re not anxious about something, we must be doing it wrong because there are millions of moving parts at any given moment. Rationalizing was perhaps one of the first signs I was too attached to the anxiety label…maybe.

I’ve been functioning through anxiety with mindfulness. Anxiety because there is always a problem to solve. In my job I solve problems for people all…day…long. That’s the primary extent of it. It doesn’t make anxiety any less. I’ve been weaving in mindfulness for the past 3-4 years because, a) it’s trendy…not going to lie about it, and b) it works. Mindfulness, the practice of maintaining awareness of our thoughts, feelings, bodily sensations and surroundings through a gentle lens has gained in popularity over the past few years. But it’s not new, Buddhists have been practicing mindfulness for centuries. It gained recognition in the U.S. and in 1979, Jon Kabat-Zinn launched a course at the University of Massachusetts on mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) and it’s been growing in popularity.

We have another choice

Mindfulness raises the level of stillness and calm you’re experiencing in any given moment. Because if we want to be in the moment, we must let go of anxiety. Please be clear, I recognize anxiety as a mental disorder and am in no way minimizing the impact. As I mentioned, I take a pill every day. What I’m suggesting we release is the anxious lifestyle we choose. Instead of being in the moment, we pile on, layer after layer of unneeded tasks and responsibilities rather than becoming still.

That’s what this Guidepost encourages me to do. Slow down and focus on calm and stillness. Maybe it’s my age, but I’m finding it easier and easier to do. I’m tired, and spending 20-30 minutes in meditation before I start my workday? Golden. By taking the time to be still, to breath, to focus, I clear out the cobwebs and make space for what lies ahead. And I’ve noticed the more I practice meditation and being still, the easier I can return to it in the middle of what might otherwise be an anxiety filled day.

Anxiety that we invite into our lives, that’s what we need to let go of on our Wholehearted Journey. It’s counterproductive to being our whole self because we’re giving our energy away needlessly. And we’re the only ones who know it. Re-diverting our energy to positive endeavors, to quiet and still our minds, creates more space in our lives for the aspects we truly desire, like peace and love. It’s a choice, a shift, one that we make over and over throughout our days. I’ll commit with you to working letting go of anxiety as a lifestyle…it’s a habit worth break and a step on our journey. Be brave friends. Lisa

 

 

 

 

 

Why exhaustion is NOT a status symbol

Looking forward to adulthood, I was chomping at the bit to recreate a nightly cocktail hour. As a child, I watched my parents partake and it appeared so debonair, so sheikh. A symbolic way to shake off the exhaustion of the workday. Proud of ourselves for another day and looking for a reward. For a time, I found my groove with a glass of wine after work. Admittedly, I enjoyed a great glass of wine with friends of family, particularly sitting near water or outside.

 

I’d say it was 7ish years ago – and by this time, no more frequent than during the weekend – when I noticed that after a glass of wine or two, a headache quickly emerged. As in, before I was done with my wine. Shortly thereafter, a naturopathic doctor advised me to try eliminating alcohol from my diet, along with sugar, dairy and a host of other foods. I recall driving home from that appointment feeling as though basically I’d been told to stop eating food.

 

When I tried a sip of wine a few months later, the result was disastrous. And since that time, my ability to consume alcohol in any form (and by any form, I mean any form, in food or otherwise), I immediately feel the headache and nausea arise. They will be my companion for at least a week. No exaggeration.

 

I finally got smart…a month ago… and went to a neurologist after having a headache from half a gluten free cookie. The culprit was vanilla extract (cue the doomsday music now). Turns out, the doctor told me, the headaches are migraines. For seven years I’ve sucked it up and suffered through the week-long, decently severe, headaches each time I inadvertently ate something with alcohol.

 

I’m smart now. Neurologist. Big deal, he gave me the 411, some meds, and I thought I was set. I was not.

Exhaustion becomes our pattern

 

Yesterday, when I woke up with pressure behind my eyes and throbbing in my temples, I was confused. I hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary. I experienced despair because I was following the rules. But what I hadn’t factored in was when my doctor switched me to a different medication, there was a transition period. Cue migraine.

 

You’re probably imagining I laid on the couch all day, in the quiet, not using my brain – since that only makes it hurt worse. You would be wrong. In fact, I worked all day. Not ‘phoned it in,’ worked. Instead, I had a fairly intense day, migraine be damned. As I write this, still have the migraine. And near the end of the day yesterday, I found myself wondering what compulsion kept me working even at this subpar level. I mean, come on, a migraine is a legit reason to stop working. But I didn’t.

Exhaustion as a status symbol – a false belief

 

Many of us adopt the false belief somewhere in our early working years that continuing to work when you’re sick or suffering was a status symbol. Never let them see you sweat, we were told. Not consciously, of course, the trickier ways we harm our selves are smarter than that, they’re covert. But subconscious whispers, keep going, you’re not that bad off, you don’t have COVID…you’re not dying. Get back to work.

 

If you share that subconscious thought pattern, let me tell you, it’s just plain stupid. And I say that to myself as much as any other person. If you’re like me and missed the lesson on resting, pausing when you feel like ‘crap on a cracker’ (which is, by the way, my new favorite line, not even going to pretend it’s not), it’s not too late.

 

Play and rest are critical, but too often dismissed in favor of proving something, to yourself or someone else. How tough you are, how you keep going, how you overcome. Dumb, dumb, dumb…I can say that because that’s my inner voice and I know it’s dumb even though I keep doing it.

Wholehearted living instead of exhaustion

 

Wholehearted living has shown me that working towards the Guideposts Brené Brown gives us is not a one and done. They take effort, daily, choices to give up our false narratives including ‘Exhaustion is a status symbol,’ and go a different way.

 

We will slip up. There will be days we arrive at 5 p.m. wondering why we didn’t stop hours ago when our head started throbbing. The hope is that the next time, we’ll choose differently. That instead we might rest or play or engage in whatever activity it is that brings your heart joy. If we make those choices, perhaps together we can shift the paradigm and rest will no longer be something people choose – it will be a natural part of living. For today, what will you do to prevent reaching exhaustion and know that taking care of yourself is the long run status symbol? I know you can do it, we’re navigating this journey together, friends. Be Brave – Lisa

Do you need to dance like nobody’s watching?

Are there moments within your ordinary life that are mundane, but which bring you joy? In COVID-life, I’ve been paying closer attention what feels like play. Particularly so this month as I focus on the Wholehearted Living Guidepost “Cultivating Play and Rest: Letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth” I had one such experience this morning. And thank the good Lord in heaven no one was watching.

Dance like nobody is watching

Here’s the buildup. I’d been fussing around my house since 7 a.m. Precariously climbing a ladder to trim a tree with my newly acquired tree lopper (oddly satisfying – I have to admit it) and cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning. No one was home, ideal situation for cleaning. Headphones in, my jamming tunes going, singing at the top of my lungs, frightening the dog. Seriously, she was confused. And then, my power ballad came on. Whitney Houston belting out One Moment in Time. There was singing, there was dancing, there were arm movements. It was a thing. Probably looked more like one of these things, the bad ones, than Whitney. But it wouldn’t have happened if anyone had been home.

Why don’t we dance like nobody is watching…when someone is?

As I was gloriously enjoying Whitney, and one, maybe two repeat performances, I wondered if there were people who, in their moments of play, of relaxation into their true selves, could honestly let go enough to dance and sing like I was if other people were around. I’d thought about that before, when I was married and it wasn’t going well, wishing he would walk in and see that part of me with hopes that would show a different side of me.

Instead of showing that soft underbelly of ourselves – oh, I am the only one who feels like that? Unlikely. Letting someone see that playful, silly, secret, inner Whitney side of myself doesn’t happen, nope, because it feels risky. In the context of the Guidepost focus for this month, it undermines the front we might be striving to create, one of productivity to the point of exhaustion if we allow someone to see us while at play.

Dance party for one is a start…but…

For those of us who lean towards the serious side like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, yours truly included, incorporating a dance party for one is a place to start. But what would it take to open yourself up to involving others in your play? What would that look like for you? Believe me, I get that it’s not easy, any why is that? Let’s cut to the chase, vulnerability. When you play, you might look silly. Or better yet, when you play, 9 times out of 10, you will look silly. So what? Vulnerability defined by Brené Brown is uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure. Do those components exist when you invite someone into your private dance parties, your private play?

100%.for. sure.

Vulnerability gets you to courage

I had someone comment the other day that you have a choice to be vulnerable and surrender or retreat…and that courage is the bridge. You can choose to surrender to the moment and let someone into to your inner world, invite them to share you play time, or you can retreat and keep yourself apart. I’m not going to tell you one is better than the other. But what I am going to tell you is that I believe there is a time for both, and if you listen to your heart, you will know when that time is.

My friends, I know you are courageous. If you’ve been with me for any length of time, you know we’re on a vulnerable, courageous journey to a wholehearted life. It is one step at a time and at moments feels like a slog-fest, which is normal, I’m sure of it. But Wholehearted Living, bringing our whole self, including play and rest, letting go of exhaustion, know that self-worth is within us every moment, not externally derived, is our path. We’re on that brave path together my friends. Sending you all the love. Lisa

When play doesn’t come naturally

As a young girl, under 8, I’d cultivated an organized, serious side. My collection of books, those passed down to me from aunts, uncles, my parents, and accumulated as gift and through Scholastic Book Fairs at school set me up well. So well, in fact, I’d determined that my books could not be touched by my little brother. Nope. In order to put his little hands on my precious books, he would need to check them out.

I created a library system.

By taking envelopes, cutting them in half, gluing them inside the book cover and putting an index card within the slot, a simple book became a library treasure. He played along, for a while, and then I’m sure he got bored with the entire system and resumed whatever it is little brothers did, probably playing. I had no time for that. I had to organize. He went on to terrorize me as we got older, so I’d say we’re even.

Where did all the playing go?

Much later, I had two additional little brothers and was more akin to an aunt with them because I was already out of the house and never lived at home with them. They’re now adults and as I think about my Wholehearted Guidepost this month of Cultivating Play and Rest, Letting Go of Exhaustion as a Status Symbol and Productivity as Self-Worth, I have an uphill battle on the play side.

I think my brothers got all the genes for playing.

No really, I’m not joking.

Do I want to play? Who am I, Professor Snape? I am not. So, sure I want to play. But it doesn’t come naturally. My brothers, especially the younger ones, they make me laugh all the time. They’re silly, and light-hearted, they’re jokesters and generally like to have a good time. But all three of them are funny in their own ways. I am the serious one. So, while its easy to say “lighten up,” it’s not flipping a switch.

Of course we want to let go of exhaustion!

But letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol? Sign me up. Earlier in my career, I worked on a takeover project. Endless hours and one night, driving home at 11 p.m., I counted the hours thus far in the week to keep from falling asleep. I got to 80, it was Thursday. I learned that within that company, hours accompanied promotions and traded time at home for advancement. It’s a trap of your early career that many of us fell into in the 90’s and people still fall into today. My advice? Do not do it!

Fast forward to later stages in the game and with wisdom I can say, ummm, nope. The benefit of all those hours was more hours and time away from my family. Time that is unrecoverable. As I talk with peers in this stage of life, it’s a common thread. Most of the women I talk with worked, we jumped on the corporate ladder without a second thought. And lost time at home, time to pursue our interests and now? Now we’re figuring out who we are and what we want. And we have many thoughts about it.

Make a choice to play

Those thoughts are coming fast and furious now. Because we’re tired. Bossy older sister wants at least a chance to play without having to work all the time. Wholehearted living requires us to look at our entire life, not one slice, to truly become our whole selves. And letting go of anything that is exterior to ourselves as a status symbol, or to provide us with self-worth, is necessary to fully function as our whole self.

Play and rest…if you are like me (dear God, I hope you got the play gene!), you’ve spent most of your life being serious and you might need to experiment a bit to find what’s fun for you. Yoga…that’s always relaxing for the body and mind, being with my silly brothers and my kids – who equally make me laugh, ridiculous movies, and even old TV show (and I’m talking childhood) clips like this one. At the same time, I know I will always have a serious side, it’s part of who I am.

Each of our Wholehearted Journeys looks different, but whatever yours is, be brave. I’m right here with you. Sending love and light. Lisa

We need less exhaustion and more play!

Easy as riding a bike

Like riding a bike. I thought about that concept yesterday morning as I literally rode my bike for the first time in probably a year. And while that may not seem remarkable to anyone, it is to me. Today when I pulled on the spandex and buckled up my shoes, the routine came back to me, familiar. And as I rolled out for what turned out to be a comparatively short ride, if I reflect back on my prior riding life, I rode my bike, and it felt like play.

Cultivating Play and Rest

Fitting, because the Brené Brown’s Wholehearted Living Guidepost I’m focusing on this month is: Cultivate Play and Rest – Let go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth

You’d think that after nearly four months of staying at home, sheltering in place for our own protection, I’d have found a way to cultivate play, that I’d feel rejuvenated, refreshed.

I do not.

Busy comes easy

In fact, my mind has remained busier than normal, and I am not alone. Not only are we navigating day to day life, we’re ensuring that we do not contract what may be a deadly virus…or a minor cold…it’s a roll of the dice until we get it. Wear a mask or not? (I’m a mask wearer) Work from home. Be a teacher (my kids and I are thankful we don’t have to figure that one out…we would all suffer). Isolate. Go out…wait…go back into your homes. Layer on the racial injustices in our country and a desire to self-examine and my mind is full.

Ok, so all that plus…I am working on a side project that occupies time outside of work. One I have a great deal of passion around, but which takes focus and mental energy, nonetheless. It’s important to remember that simply having passion for a topic, or a project does not alleviate the mental exertion you put towards it.

Is it truly ok to play?

Sliding into play on the weekend should feel as easy as riding a bike. And while enjoyable, a normal weekend lately feels structured. Between walking with a friend, writing, cleaning, puttering around the house, maybe reading for an hour, working on my side project, and then suddenly it’s 4 p.m. Sunday and I think “I did not relax one bit this weekend.” Part of it, I’ve begrudgingly come to realize, is that when I’m ‘working’ to some degree, I derive worth from the activity. And, I’ve spent enough time in therapy and on my own, reflecting, to know where that comes from. It’s not a healthy thought pattern.

Yet, it’s a hard one to break.

Because, activity is addictive. It’s one of those addictions, like exercise, that isn’t ‘bad’ for you, so it’s hard to see the downside. But when your self-worth is wound tight with your activity, when exhaustion is, in Brené’s words a “status symbol,” it’s unhealthy for you. We question whether we can put it down and play.

It’s like riding a bike. It can be easy. We can roll out and play.

What does play mean to you?

Play is not the same for each of us. To me, maybe it is riding my bike more frequently, or yoga with a friend. It could be painting or creating. Brené writes that play is doing things because they’re fun not because they’ll help achieve a goal, and that’s it’s vital for human development. In that case, I better get it in gear and spend less time doing and more time dreaming and goofing off – although I feel a little cringy at the thought of goofing off. I could get spunky, yes, sassy, absolutely, goofy, I might pass…this may be a hard month.

What about you? What does play mean to you? Perhaps you have a healthy balance between your productivity and play and rest and if so – I applaud you – and hate you a little – ok, not really, just slightly jealous. I won’t even say it’s a balance because in and of itself the concept of balance can lead to unhealthy thinking, another blog another day. For now, let us focus on cultivating rest and play. It’s a journey my friends, one leading us down the road to Wholehearted Living. You are brave and I am with you. Sending you all the love. Lisa

Why choose creativity over comparison?

My children’s grandmother is an artist. I mean, an actual artist, as in, makes a living selling her paintings. Naturally when my children were young, I imagined they would be protégés or born with her innate talent to create. As early as it seemed appropriate, we had crayons and colored, I engineered art projects for nearly every birthday party, I wanted to spark the bug within them to create.

Hanging in my guest bathroom for many years was a painting by my older son, Carson. It was precious and, although it no longer graces my walls, I have it, as I always will, because I am a mother. He recently painted an “installation” for his apartment that I love, and it delights me that the creative bug lives on. Is my younger son creative? Yes? It’s demonstrated through his passion for plants, their growth, structure and patterns. I will go with that as his creative streak.

But if I compared them to their grandmother…are they artists?

What is creative?

One of the challenges internally with creativity is its subjective nature. Not black and white, subject to the eye of the beholder. What makes it ‘good’ or ‘bad’ is up for debate. While the kids’ grandmother is an artist, is it possible that’s a construct? She paints (beautifully), it appeals to an audience, it’s recognizable, and people want to pay money for it, therefore, we call her an artist.

But what about me? Earlier today, I decided to create a picture for a blank wall in my powder bath and with inspiration from Henri Matisse, a flower-esque canvas was born. Does that make me an artist? I write this blog every week in addition to innumerable other posts and documents, does that make me a writer?

Why comparison enters the picture

Because we desire to add definition to our activities, we compare to others. I may look at artists and evaluate my creation compared to theirs. Is it as good? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Am I an artist? The same comparison exists for writing, or any other creative endeavor.

And the unfortunate result is that we subconsciously stifle ourselves. Because we determine that whatever it is that we’re doing is ‘less than’ what someone else has created. Why do we have this insatiable desire to put a label on it at all? When we do, we’re missing the point. Creativity is subjective. It’s not up to you to determine if I am an artist, or a writer, that’s up to me. Determining if you’re an artist is up to you and you alone.

Which is easier said than done.

Wholehearted living lets go of comparison

Truthfully, I’d like to say I don’t compare myself to anyone. That I believe I’m an artist and a writer. That would be a lie. In real life, I hesitate to use those labels. I compare my ‘art,’ my ideas, my vision (because creativity is far more than visual arts) to others to determine the good/bad factor. The Wholehearted Living Guidepost capturing my attention this month is choosing creativity over comparison.

Comparison needs to stop. Do you know one of the reasons I’ve continued to exercise my creativity? Because it brings me joy. I love writing. I love painting, or creating, or dreaming up creative solutions, or schemes or ideas. When we compare, we look at another person’s exterior, at their finished product, and think we’re seeing the entire picture.

We only have the full picture of ourselves

We’re not seeing the whole picture. Each person projects the part of themselves they want others to see. Including us. We show the world around us what we want them to see. Maybe it’s only the best pieces of art, or pictures, or selfies, or writing, or we filter our ideas, our suggestions, our creativity. We run it through our internal comparison meter first to determine if it’s good enough for others to see.

That’s what they’re doing to. Wholehearted living requires us to stop comparison. Let the creativity flow. Encourage it in yourself and others. Know that we may be on this journey together, and our paths may be crossing, but our footsteps are not the same. We need every single one. Together, we complete the picture. You’re creative, you’re an artist, you’re brave, my friend. Sending you love. Lisa

What’s the worst that could happen?

Try it, you’ll like it.  The well-known catch phrase from the 70’s, not, as I learned while researching, from a Life Cereal ad, but instead, Alka Seltzer. Which makes it more apropos, because I’ve been pondering venturing into unknown territory. Leaving certainty. In the ad, the encouragement to try it is made with assurance because if heartburn arose, Alka Seltzer would surely resolve it.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I work with a coach of my own who frequently asks me, “what if you did it anyways?” I assure you this is one of dozens of ways she’s figured out work to challenge me to think counter to my certainty-based thinking pattern when it comes to branching out. As we labored through my resistance, she flipped a switch for me. Beginner’s fear, she called it, which is another form of Imposter Syndrome. Defined as,

 “The persistent inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills”

According to Buck Stewart on Medium, we may experience it when starting something new, a job, a skill, putting our gifts into the world for the first time.

In 2018 I attended Brave Magic with Elizabeth Gilbert and Cheryl Strayed at the 1440 Multiversity. Nestled in the Santa Cruz Mountains, the picturesque grounds and chill vibe give the illusion you’ll float through your experience. I did not. I believed it was a writing workshop, and it was. All about my inner shadows. Surrounded by 600 others, many published authors, I had the joy of sharing my writing with a perfect stranger, but only after digging deep into my soul. I felt over my head and intimidated the entire time. It was not chill. It was therapy. I downloaded the experience in this blog sharing the imposter’s syndrome that stayed with me through much of the weekend.

Several days have passed since idea of beginner’s fear was again posed to me, leaving time for multiple dots to connect. Namely that with anything new, including activities that tap into areas of strength, trepidation is not uncommon. You’re moving from certainty to relying on your experience and intuition. And the stakes are increased if the new thing includes uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure, aka, vulnerability.

Rewiring our minds for uncertainty

The path to wholehearted living requires we move from certainty into trusting intuition and faith. Predictability replaced with trust in yourself, having faith. But it’s not a matter of flipping a switch. Certainty is safe and unknown. Neurologically, our brains will search for what is familiar. We see different as a threat. Dr. Kristin Beasley, PhD, a trusted friend of mine, shared a compelling talk on just this topic, diving into the neuroscience behind how our brains see difference, particularly in regard to diversity, in her Quarantine with Dr. B series on Facebook. You can watch the episode on YouTube.

Our brains have the powerful ability to keep us safe, but we’re not being chased by a T-Rex on our way home from the grocery store. The more we expose ourselves to new experiences, challenges, people, the stronger the neurological pathways connecting different to safe instead of danger.

Embrace your intuition

Growth lies on the other side of certainty. And if we’re not growing, then what? For me, particularly now that I’ve hit the “middle of life,” becoming stale is not an option. Consciously aware that I’m walking out the second half of my life, the importance of growth and trusting my intuition is increasingly important. Midlife isn’t a dead end, it’s a spotlight. Showing us the areas in our life where we’ve been ‘phoning it in.’ It’s time to follow our inner calling and continue in spite of beginner’s fear because…

What’s the worst that could happen?

I, for one, am willing to walk it out. Are you with me? What’s the still, small voice within you saying? Perhaps it’s no longer quiet, but instead a loud roar. Friends, you are not alone. And I assure you, we are not imposters in our own lives. We are walking out our inner calling together. Trusting our intuition and rewiring our brains to embrace different. No one else will live it out for us. It’s our journey, let’s Be Brave.