This is the complementary route that starts 2km prior to Portomarín Spain on the Camino de Santiago Frances. The background is a recording of myself singing and playing the Ukelele. Enjoy!
Tag Archives: Self-Care
Finding New Life
I’m struggling on this journey with habits and patterns that I have created at home to manage myself and my PTSD.
If I were home right now I would be sleeping, because it’s still morning. I might go out to work at Starbucks today. I may spend time painting or drawing. I would likely sit outside at the picnic table, enjoying the last days of summer with Janelle before she goes back to work. I’d have made a coffee, and then another, and likely a third. I wouldn’t have eaten anything yet. I’d likely spend a lot of time indoors, binging Netflix or reading a novel. Possibly, I would do some household chores and rearrange the living room for the millionth time. Tomorrow I would do the same, just as this is what I did yesterday. Life became stale. I was complacent in my maximum isolation. So full of thoughts, and hopes, and desires, but not moving towards anything, just talking it in circles and writing down ideas.
This morning I had one cafe con leche and a ham and cheese sandwich. I packed my bag and I hit the road. I greeted others in kindness and compassion for our mutual journey and struggles up hills. I drank lots of water. I stopped and meditated in my surroundings, not concerned with those going past at faster speeds than I. I drank more water and ate a small muffin. I heard music and I stopped to sing along as the Guitarist played Stand By Me (Ben E. King). I encouraged myself to keep moving on the hills, but to stop, look around, and look up. I discovered that what I thought were dates were actually almonds. Who knew they grew on trees in green pods? I didn’t, nor did the three French women who showed it to me, explaining in French. I don’t speak French, but we understood each other all the same.
I found an old cistern on the top of a hill and I stopped to meditate again. Maybe someone took my picture, or they were just catching the view. Someone walked by and told me “Namaste”. I continued to meditate and breathe. When I opened my eyes everything was brighter, my sight was clearer. Even the ants on my bag didn’t ruin my day. I wondered why it is that I avoid meditating regularly. Is lack of peace such a comfortable place?
I arrived at my destination and felt as if I had not come far enough today, but I’m learning I must make myself pause, even when my body insists it can go further. I fed, cleaned, and embraced my body for its strength and resilience. I interact with others through smile and greeting, feeling akin. This is a life one cannot find binging netflix in the living room. I do believe this is a life we can find by stepping out our front door. There is no need to travel, though I highly encourage it. Seeing and experiencing other cultures gives us perspectives to grow and love better. I hope and believe that everyone can take their own journey and not only finds new ways to embrace life, but like I have on this trail, find that life is embracing you back.
The Path I’ve Walked
I had a lot of built up anxiety prior to getting on the plane Wednesday morning. This trip was 6 months coming and then it appeared all too quickly. It’s interesting to reflect on the path I’ve walked which led to me walking a literal path in Spain. The mindset I was in when I bought the tickets and how my world changed since, well, it feels like two different worlds.
February 13, 2019 0500 CST
I bought the tickets in a haze of sleeplessness. I was unsettled. The nightmares were creeping in on my periphery. They were alive in my mind without me even closing my eyes. I couldn’t, no wouldn’t, allow myself to sleep. The fear if entering my never ending nightmares spurred me on to practice one tool after another, but nothing calmed them, or me.
I, finally, took my mind back to the Camino de Santiago I did in October 2018. I recalled the smell of the eucalyptus trees, still wet with dew. The quiet of the rail, the only sound was the crunchy of my shoes on the path. Singing in the rain, getting caught, and being asked to keep singing. The sense of freedom and no restrictions. The lack of my story holding me back. This was what I most wanted as I looked at ticket prices.
I hoped to find those same senses by returning to the trail. Last year I used the trail to hold onto through the struggles. On this particular February morning I once again needed something to hold onto, to keep living. I wanted to escape my pain, back to the last place that I felt peace.
After February 13th
It’s not that I don’t have peace in my daily life. I’m just constantly looking for the next danger, the next repeat of my trauma. I’m always on alert. I wish I could better embrace the peace and joy that occurs in my daily life. I also have this wanderlust inside me, and perhaps that makes me restless. I’m great in a crisis or a high adrenaline event, it’s the normal where I begin to fall and fail.
So what changed, what happened since that rough February night, which made it so difficult to actually come on this trip? Just buying the tickets I had felt i found my escape, something to look forward to, hold on to. It wasn’t a foolish choice, it was quite informed of me. I lined my date’s up with when my lease ended. I found a balance in my desire to escape and my life responsibilities. Giving myself this time was important. It offered me the space to process, connect better with others, and make a healthy departure.
For almost as long as I can remember, I have had this unhealthy desire to just up and disappear, to run away from everyone. It often has strong emotional ties to shame, guilt, pain, and other dark emotions. As an adult, I began struggling with thoughts of suicide. Suicide: the ultimate disappearing act. When I think about my struggles it is hardly ever a reflection of others. It is a reflection of how I can’t stand myself, occasionally informed by the opinions of others. The thing is I can’t escape myself anymore than you can escape yourself. So my urge to disappear doesn’t work, I can’t run from myself. That was where the permanence of suicide began to feel attractive.
Luckily, for me, I was born with this little flame in my soul, called HOPE. Sometimes, I am in awe of how strong it is. It keeps me going in the darkest of times. It is what gets me to buy plane tickets so I can walk across Spain. Once the tickets were bought, life started to get a little easier. I had an egress plan. Rule #1 of combat, know your egress points. Okay, maybe not rule #1, but it’s up there for sure. It’s as if I can handle anything as long as there is an escape route.
Funny thing happened though, I made my escape plan and then began to experience a life I didn’t want to escape from. Every day wasn’t perfect, but life felt good. It felt possible. I let myself be more vulnerable. I began to accept the love others kept trying to share with me. I leaned into my art and my dream of building a non-profit. I built deeper relationships with neighbors, coworkers, customers, and friends. Instead of thinking I could go nowhere with my dreams, I just started doing it. It was as if I suddenly had nothing to loose, so why not try. To my surprise, people really supported me! I even met someone special who has made my life even better. It turned out I didn’t need to escape my life. I needed to be embracing it.
So, then I considered not going on this trip at all. I balked at the risk of leaving a good life, finally, a good life. The thing is, I had heard this call to adventure and I accepted it. My current level of comfort at home should not hinder me answering the call and stepping into the unknown. A person won’t grow well unless, from time to time, they face the unknown and seek the new knowledge and wisdom it has in store.
The beauty to this evolution is that I don’t know what I’m walking the Camino for. I am no longer escaping. I’m not appearing, like the last Camino, for myself. They’re is no record breaking, comparing, or competing. I’m simply embracing the unknown by putting one foot in front of the other, and continue to walk.
Tomorrow’s Tide
It feels like it should just be any other night. It isn’t though. Tomorrow the woman takes on a new mountain, or will it end up being a mole hill? She doesn’t know, there are so many unknowns. She comes and goes in life like a ride on the shores. What will become of her in this next chapter of the journey. She is taking a leap of faith, not because she’s running away from something or seeking something. She is taking on this journey to experience herself in a new way. She sits on the porch, staring up at the sky, knowing she’ll see these same stars, only thousands of miles from home. It’s scary, she misses her home already. She misses her people and the life she has stepped back from. She chose this journey because she needed to pause. The woman is afraid that once she’s paused for so long she’ll forget how to get moving again. She yearns to hold calm inside herself and never let go, that is why she’s going to walk and walk and walk. Some fear for her safety, while she fears for her sanity. So she’ll go to be with the earth and nature and herself. She’ll face trials and tribulations. She is likely to face an abyss, a breakdown, a spiritual awakening. She’ll find redemption, forgiveness, and salvation. She’ll return to her known world with new wisdom from around the world. She’s scared, sad, joyous, and excited all at once. She already feels exhausted. Her armor is self-care, connection, and love. She’s resilient and a fighter. She’s a warrior walking into a garden to meditate. The woman will be better than okay. She will thrive through adversity and adventure.
My Flawed Existence
To be human is to be flawed and to succeed by simply the act of continuing to try again. I am great at counting my flaws and I struggle some days to keep trying. I find though that I have had to stop trying to be perfect. The idea of perfection still creeps into my thoughts and I have to do the hard work to not allow it to take control. For the most part, I am glad to say, I am not trying to be perfect. I am most simply these days just trying to be, to exist with the world around me. Through all of this I am just trying to understand my own nature further, and the nature of other humans around me.
I feel that humanity hides itself under the cover of owning things, gaining power/perfection, and trying to hide our flaws. I find deep gratitude when others I interact with are also working on seeing who they are underneath the covers that mask our true selves. In our modern era, full of information and toys, we struggle harder to simply enjoy our lives. I have read various research which discusses how there are too many choices available to us, and this overwhelms our capacity to be happy.
With a world so full of so many things we often makes things more difficult than they need to be. I know that I do. I am constantly speaking with my therapist about getting in the way of my own healing. I set barriers in my life that restrict me from fully embracing the world around me. These are flaws that I have to come to terms with. They are fall-backs that when I am hungry, angry, lonely, tired, or all of the above I will likely revert to.
I have some beautiful friends that I often get to speak with by phone or enjoy over a coffee. I have a flaw of not always remembering to be grateful for them. I have the flaw of being afraid of their judgement or dislike of who I am. I worry that trying to be a simple writer/artist/barista/aspiring bohemian woman seems silly to them. I also worry that in doing so I will fail myself. The truth though is in the words I said at the start of this, and have said many times to individuals I have supported through healing. If you are trying you are succeeding. It seems too simple to be true. It seems like not a big deal and gets pushed to the side by the habits we have learned through our society.
We have to clear out all the many choices and the multitude of things that get in the way. We have to return to the simple self, who are we when everything no longer exists in our life? The biblical figure Job is a good example. The book of Job is about God proving to Satan that when Job has nothing left he still has God. I have in my life been asked in various different settings who I am when I take away the volunteering, the working for others, the trauma story, the activities I do, and the things I call myself. Through one program, You School, I was asked a number of questions that helped me dive into who I am.
Through that exercise I found a key Greek term that I have known for years, Agape (ἀγάπη, agapē). This word is found in the original Greek portions of the Bible and is one of several Greek words which translated to the word “Love” in the English language. This specific Greek word denotes the love which God gives to humanity without expectation of return. It is a benevolent love, one full of good will. When I look at my life and the world around me I find that I often focus on the trauma and the pain. It some days appears that there is not good in the world. I had the Greek Agape tattooed on my forearm as a reminder of why I exist in the world. If I have no other reason to be here, at least I can love unconditionally others.
Part of me hopes what I give to others will be returned to me by others, but ultimately it is a term that I must apply to my relationship with myself. The thing about developing myself and being aware of the world around me is that I cannot care for others if I am not first caring for myself adequately. One of the flaws I hear of a lot from different individuals is that serving others is what gives us meaning in life. I know many people who don’t face their own flaws in the mirror because they are too busy helping with their neighbors crisis or flaw. It goes back to balance, which is a common theme on my journey. Helping others can give me perspective but at the end of the day, am I helping myself?
How can we truly be human, accept ourselves, and in turn accept others, if we are so busy ignoring our own humanity? If we are so busy building walls to protect ourselves from the unknown, the dangerous, the risky, the scary? If we build the walls to keep out those things which we have learned to dislike the most we are also building walls to the joy, the happiness, the love, the true connection and relationship we could have with other people.
So here I am being all smart, right? In fact, I am saying this as much for me as anyone else. I struggle to move past the knowledge bombs I like to drop on myself, to the place where I am actually experiencing life. For so long I have watched the world around me, I have been a spectator full of criticism and judgement as I have gone along. I have failed to accept my own flaws and really embrace them. Though it may not seem like it sometimes, I am trying.
This is why I am a wanderer though, because I do not know what this looks like in the end. I wish I did, I wish I knew the outcome for myself, what I can achieve, what I will look back on at the end of my life. Often it feels like life is just happening to me, so I wander along, trying to just experience it. When I have tried to plan it often fails or doesn’t turn out how I desire. The thing about it all is that I have to find unconditional love for myself. I have to dig in roots here, I have to accept my flaws and my story.
The thing is, I keep digging, sometimes I hit rocks, sometimes its’ an easy passage, and sometimes the roots stick. That’s the funny thing about wandering, the roots start to grow in different places, but they don’t hold you back, they support you to grow more, gain more nourishment, and discover what can bloom on your tree of life. There are knotty parts on the tree, some broken roots, some storm damage, and many flaws. All of this together makes you stronger. So yes, I have a flawed existence, and that is okay, I’ll keep trying. And in trying, I will be succeeding.
Be Human, Not a Box Checker
Often in my daily life I hear a request for quantitative metrics to support actions I am doing or suggesting they take at work. When looking at metrics that is compiled there are two main types, quantitative and qualitative. Quantitative metrics is about numbers. These metrics can be easily compiled into a pie chart, a bar graph, or any number of tools available that give a simple picture of a situation. It allows a person or company to look at specific information and compare it to each other to better understand the service or product. I appreciate quantitative metrics, it gives me a good picture of what is going on. Despite the popularity of quantitative metrics, I love qualitative metrics even more so.
Qualitative metrics, or data, is descriptive in nature. It is harder to organize qualitative data into a nice clean pretty graphic that can be understood by the masses. To me qualitative data tells a story. I am a storyteller. Stories are about life, and life is hardly ever only nice, clean, and pretty. The more I hear pressure to ensure that I can have quantitative metrics, the more I begin to wonder what these metrics can really tell us. Sometimes it seems like it becomes so much pressure to have good metrics that the reason behind why we do things changes or maybe doesn’t even exist anymore.
I have coined the term “Be Human, don’t check boxes.” I seem to say it a lot in explanation for why I want to do things differently than those around me. Though I see the good of quantitative metrics I more resoundingly hear the stories of quality. This doesn’t mean that we should stop measuring the numbers and making pretty little graphics. What I mean is I believe in my life that if you are human then the boxes will check themselves.
What does being human look like?
Being human is the essence of knowing your story, listening to someone else’s story, and processing what that means. If we only ever look at numbers then we miss the real picture. We miss the things that are between the numbers. Being human is about being focused on listening. It is doing the right thing because it is for the good of another person or even just for the good of yourself. When you put the qualitative data, the human story, before the numbers you have the ability to ask questions. You ask open, Socratic, questions that allow an individual to dig deeper within themselves to find the answers that best fit their life. This is where you will learn the really important things about those around you. Just don’t expect them to fit into your nice little boxes like you may desire.
If someone took the time to listen to you and help you process information and seek your own answers, what do you suppose the survey results might look like? In my world, when someone listens, respects, and honors my decisions I attempt to ensure that they receive accolades for a job well done. If you are human and treat me as human then I will respond in kind fulfilling your need for metrics. Consider those around you that you interact with. The ones that you are drawn back to, that you become friends with, are typically the ones who listen to you and respect you. We all have issues in our lives, and some of us are trying to get over listening to the negative voices and allowing people to treat us poorly. If you don’t think that you are surrounded by people who listen, support, and respect then get out. Be human for yourself!
Being human is about kindness, caring, and compassion. Being human is about being vulnerable and building deep relationships that help you through hard times. Struggles will always come, but the more human we are with one another, the easier we can make the struggle. This is our reality, not a pie chart or a movable bubble graph, but the real heart of life that is seen through the stories we tell. We see the pain and the anguish that occurs in life and through the actions of being human we are able provide comfort. We see the joys and achievements which allow us to celebrate together.
This is why when I schedule one hour for a person, if they need two, I take it, and I work hard to ensure I value that time given to me. I slow my own life down enough to listen to what another person is saying to me. Communication is more than just the words we say, it is the words we don’t say, the way we say them, and how we act when we do this. It is the stepping stone that has built us into this monolithic society which often can overpower the human aspects of our lives. The thing which built us is most easily forgotten in the rush and the pressure of our day to day lives.
I challenge you
I challenge you to ask yourself if you are being human or if you are merely trying to check boxes? Do you slow yourself down long enough to give your child the time they so deserve and desire? Do you pause and look up to give a smile to a stranger on the street? Do you stop to consider what else is going on in a persons life when they are struggling at work? Do you give yourself time to find internal value and provide the self-care that is so important to who you are? Find questions like these to ask yourself and then ask: what would make me more human?
On an occasion I sit down with a person and I just hold space. I reserve the need to provide a response to what they are sharing. Eventually when I break the hold I ask reflective questions based on what they just told me. This allows for the individual to seek their own answers and know I was listening to them. I support them in what they are doing. On occasion those individuals dive even deeper into their story than they originally intended to go. I do not do this to cause distress, I do this because being human comes with emotions. I work to hold space for my friends and those I interact with to feel their emotions and take the time to think over what they are sharing. This is just one way in which I work to be human, instead of checking boxes.
In a society where we all work remotely and the internet is sometimes our best friend and confidant I want to reconnect with those around me. I want to develop myself and those I interact with in a way that is so normal to human nature that it creates a safe space for both of us. Not every person has intentions to be vulnerable, emotional, or even really dig deep. As part of being human I respect their right to reveal what they desire to reveal. I just want to ensure they know I am here for them, and I support them.
In this same mode I have to be human to myself. This is self-care. As I work on a project that looks to understand self-care better a friend asked me “and self-care?” I went off prattling on about the topic I am researching only to have him correct me and say, “no, your self-care?” I laughed in amusement as I responded that what kind of time do I have for my own self-care when I am so busy trying to understand how to help others with their self-care. He just chuckled back and waited for my response. If I want to be human to other people I have to be human to myself. We are actually such fragile creatures, feel free to disagree, but I believe we are. We build up these walls around us and focus on other things. No emotions for me! Though the reality is that if you numb one emotion, you numb them all. So they are all still there, you just decide which ones to let out, while the others just build up. In my needing to be human for myself I feel every single wonderful and horrible emotion that comes with the title of being human. I find ways to care for myself through this roller coaster of life, like writing.
I dare you to evade it forever, for it will find you. It will creep up in the night and you will find some sort of substance or task to build a wall right over that emotion. If you practice self-care and embrace the human that you are, then the walls won’t be as necessary. We won’t try fitting people into boxes anymore. Though quantitative metrics will still be alive and well… Though there are people who will continue to count the beans… we won’t need to focus on checking the boxes, because by being human they will already have been checked.
So today I dare you, how will you be more human?
Searching for Narnia
I dream of impossible things. In my actual dreams at night I see images of oddly dressed people or creatures, las creaturas, that are from fables. They want to take me out into a field and tell me that all things are possible, that I can search for Narnia. They are trying to point the direction I must go. The field is dull and dingy and the sky is overcast, the color of the landscape is poor and unremarkable. There are walls in areas that block the view. There are people from the normal world that follow me saying that there is no Narnia. It is almost a horrific dance in a way, the push and the pull between the impossible people and the possible people. I watch as walls are built by these impossible people.
I use all the worldly logic to argue with the fairy creatures and beasts who speak of things that do not exist and we are incapable of. I am an impossible person. I listen to those people from my normal world that have followed me to insist that I cannot fly, and that there is no Narnia. They insist that the world is black and white, or simply shades of gray. They’ve convinced me that every Zebras skin is exactly the same as any other and old dogs will never learn new tricks. The impossible people encourage me to believe that things are impossible. That people will always cheat the system if they can. That we need to guard and defend from those who want to use us, even at the expense of those who may truly need us.
There is this part of me that pulls to the faeries and las creaturas, the comical beasts which speak not in plain tongue, but in a voice that I understand in my soul. These beasts and oddly dressed beings, the nymphs and the leprechauns, the unicorns, the Amarok, the Yeti’s, the Geni’s and the Giants, the Gnomes and the Elves, La Loba; they speak in a way that sings to my soul of the possibility in life. They seek to pull me in to their dance and away from the impossible people and the impossible part of me. They draw me through the walls that are my barrier and further into the field. As we dance the field blooms with color and possibility. They show me magic and mystery and the belief in everything being possible. They surround my heart in love, even love for the impossible people, and they teach me I don’t have to live as an impossible person, even if I live among them. Without words they encourage my soul to go and journey and be me.
The words for this dream slip from my fingertips onto the page just as quickly as the images begin to disappear from my awoken mind. The urgency with which I felt the need to write these things speaks loudly to my awake self. Dreams are the communication between the conscious and the subconscious. It is the place that tells me I am starting to heal, or starting to turn in a good direction. It is where the depths in myself communicates, processes, and guides me through the struggles of my awake life. My dreams are not normally good places as I work to process past traumas. This dream did not start as a good dream. It changed though, it changed into an impassioned possible thing. As I tossed off the hold of the impossible people my soul was given the chance to express and inspire my waking moments. It is the part of me that spent several hours on the phone Monday with my best friend making plans to do incredible things and have incredible adventures. It is the part of me that I worry I will lose and I work so hard to keep.
It is so easy to get jaded in our day to day lives that often it seems like we are impossible people living in a dull world surrounded by other impossible people. It is at the end of the day where I am tired, cranky, and jaded that I look back and I cry tears for building a wall of impossibility in my day and letting it affect my attitude. The creatures in my dream showed me magic and hope and most importantly love. With movement and song we journeyed in my mind and were possible. I believe this can be my waking journey as well.
I am daily working to implement new things which provide good self-care. I know that I will stop searching for Narnia if I do not give care to myself. I know that more things will become impossible because I fail to take care of myself in the best possible ways. I dream these dreams because my subconscious knows that we are headed in the right direction and it is encouraging me on. My inner Wild Woman is reminding me to dance and to be a possible person.
Whatever your dreams, at night or just for life, be a possible person and you can do it. Practice self-care and set your eyes on the prize. Journey through the dingy fields and the dark forests following the light of possibility till you find your colorful field that you can dance in (metaphorically or literally). Let your dreams and desires be the creatures that lead you to your Narnia. Don’t give up. Keep searching for Narnia, and little by little we may find it.
Original Post on Medium.
A New Year, New Day, New Moment
I woke up on January 1st 2017 in a haze from going out the night before. I was reminded of the person I used to be and as I chugged water to shake the hang over out of my head I thought about why I worked so hard to not be that person. Every year I hope that January 1st will come and I will be sprinkled with magical fairy dust which makes me thinner, healthier, and happier. Basically not me. And nothing has every really changed. This January 1st I woke up with a sense of knowing that I am clinging to now, ten days later. It feels prophetic and immense in nature. It is a sensation that I can only describe as hope for the future in a way that feels very alive like a roaring fire inside of me.
Instead of holding my New Year’s (over)celebration against myself, I forgave myself. I opted to choose love towards myself as I tried to discover where my cell phone had gone the previous night and how I had made it home. I reminded myself that I won’t be perfect and will sometimes let myself down. I don’t want to be perfect, sometimes being imperfect is more fun… but only if I can forgive myself the next day. Otherwise it is an unbearable reality that threatens my whole self.
In 2009 while I was training to go to Iraq I jokingly bummed a cigarette, lit it, and smoked it. The exhilaration of a change in chemistry made me smoke a second, then a third, eventually buying my own packs and cartons. I swore I would quit when I came home from Iraq. It was easy to make an excuse, I mean for goodness sake, I was at war. Even my parents made that excuse for me. I came home and swore I would quit. I kept smoking. I went to Afghanistan and smoked several packs a day. I proved I could quit mid tour when I stopped smoking for 5 weeks to prove a point to someone. At the end of that 5 weeks I decided to start smoking again. I don’t think I forgave myself for smoking, I just made different and better excuses. Then I just owned my failure and said I had no excuse except I liked the taste of a cigarette with coffee and the burn of the smoke in my throat. Even that was an excuse to keep punishing myself.
When I woke up ten days ago I didn’t just forgive myself for partying too much the night before. I forgave myself for everything that has been the last 8 years and it has taken 10 days to understand.
There are two kinds of people at New Year’s, the kind that make resolutions and the kind that say resolutions are worthless. I heard a lot from both sides coming up to New Year and I didn’t make up my mind about what my goals for 2017 would be until I woke up on the 1st. Those who make resolutions choose to side with hope for themselves and for the future. Those who say resolutions are worthless side with doubt, also for themselves and for the future. I am sure that many will say they have different reasons, but when it boils down to it, don’t you think that sounds right? Setting goals is the difference between hope and doubt. Even trying and failing year after year, a person still chooses hope. Several years ago I stopped trying.
I have been trying to get back to myself. More so, I have been trying to find the me that I don’t recall knowing, the person that I love and trust. Not the person who punishes myself with bad choices and negative thoughts. I started trying a few years back, not because it was the 1st of the year, but because I knew that I could not continue unless I found a different answer than the ones that I gave myself. I work with programs like Warriors’ Ascent not just to help other people but also to continue helping myself. As I help and encourage others to meditate, do yoga, and practice introspection I still struggle. I don’t expect that they won’t struggle still and always. What I have seen in the last several years that trying is hope and it can bring new life and new breathe to a person. I have kept going, sometimes in a direction that feels like I am pushing a boulder up a hill. I have time and again reminded myself that there are answers I don’t yet have and I have to keep going. In high school I used to run, but ever since Iraq I don’t like running, likely because I feel like my whole life is running without a goal in sight.
The thing is that looking back on the years there have been many moments like January 1st 2017. It is a moment where something I have been searching for clicks. Something that I have been trying to understand or grasp or learn just suddenly makes sense and I find a sense of ease. The boulder disappears and my journey becomes a little easier. I pray for these moments. I pray that I move from knowing how to make my road a little easier to doing the actions that get me there. So I stopped.
I did not go to the store for a pack of cigarettes. I told myself 5 more minutes. For Christmas my parents gave me a book called Getting There: A Book of Mentors where Michael Bloomberg says “If your mind starts to wander to past events, the only advice I can give you is don’t go. Just stop it! Think about something else. If you divert your attention, your mind won’t immediately go back to the unpleasant occurrence, and when it eventually does, simply stop thinking about it again. That’s how you quit smoking. You don’t have to stop for the rest of your life, just stop for five minutes.” He then goes on to say at the end of 5 minutes if you want a cigarette, wait another five minutes. When I read this it really started to turn some gears back into place. Whatever you think of Michael Bloomberg, his words are true. I have been using this idea to interrupt my panic attack for a couple years, but never thought to apply it elsewhere in my life.
It’s a New Year, each day is a New Day, each 5 minutes is a New 5 Minutes, and each moment is a New Moment. In a moment of time the gears finished moving back into place and as I forgave myself for one evening, that would normally disrupt the whole course of my life, I somehow started forgiving myself for everything. It’s been 10 days without a cigarette, no e-cigarette, no nicotine anything, just me and 5 minutes at a time. Just me and forgiving myself and truly starting to treat myself as if I love myself. But it didn’t happen in only one moment, it happen in a million moments that built up overtime and altered my course. It is the multitude of moments and minutes and days and years that keep moving forward to continue choosing life over death.
Each of these 10 days that I have not smoked I have spent those 5 minute intervals (the length of a normal cigarette) thinking deeply about loving myself. I have started a list of how to love myself better. I have left plenty of blank space on the list for the future ideas. I have started meditating again, am sleeping better, feel better, and am falling in love with myself.
I hope you find inspiration and seek the 5 minutes or the moments that bring you hope for the future. Happy New Year! Happy New Day! Happy 5 Minutes! Happy Moment!
Original Post on Medium.
The Words I Don’t Speak
I am a woman. A woman who has lived in a mans world for my whole life. When I matured to adulthood I went straight into a field of work that did not have a long history of allowing women, and was still restricted for women in many areas. I sometimes find myself giving the military full credit for the fact that as a woman I feel that I am often under qualified, potentially less than in a crowd of people, and do not speak these words. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I need to give our society at large credit, including the military, for the words that I don’t speak.
I dare not tell you these words, because you will likely call me sensitive. I dare not speak these words because then I will be labeled a drama queen. I dare not share these words for fear of being considered a bitch.
I find that as I reconnect with my wild woman intuition, and find the me that I want to be, I still do not speak these words enough. My words are spoken in small huddles of people, mostly women, that I am close to. They are women who nod their heads, eager to also say the words that they do not speak. We look at stories from our lives to try and understand why we do not speak these words out loud in a group. Even in groups where everything else is safe to say, we do not speak these words.
Fear grips us when we think about the need to shift around a subject or a person for fear of needing to speak the words we do not speak. We speak individually of these things with men who have a special place for us, but we still have fear in our hearts that they will still label or reject us, because it happens. We also do not select just any woman to speak these words with, for as women we have been taught the danger of other women as well. It is difficult because we also know for those we are close with, that their love knows no bounds, but they have also been raised in a society that does not desire us to speak these words and so does not understand us.
I want to tell you these words that I do not speak, but I feel I need to let you in on some other things before you hear the words. I want you to understand that the words I don’t speak should be spoken. That when they are spoken, it is not meant to demean anyone, myself or the person I say them to. It is not meant to offend, cause harm, or cause emotional pain. It does not mean that I don’t like you, love you, or care for you. If it does, then you need to process it, and not put that back on me. Just as we work to teach our children boundaries, I am working to teach myself boundaries. These are words that should be said without hesitation or fear.
Before I tell you these words think back to elementary school days. I recall (and many of you may also) not being allowed to bring birthday party invitations to class, unless I was inviting everyone. I think about this story and I think about what doing that potentially teaches our children. That in group environments, everyone is expected to be just as involved as everyone else or it doesn’t happen. In group environments I am not supposed to set my boundaries with those that I am not close to, for fear of hurting their feelings. In group environments it is better to keep the waters calm, rather than speak the words I need to speak.
So there are words that I do not speak for fear of many things.
I don’t want to be touched right now. No hugs today. No hugs for you. Do not step that close to me. I do not want to talk. Stop. No. I am not interested. I do not want to sit by you. I need space. I need to be alone. I need to slow down for a minute. I need to not rush into things. I want to slow down. I want to not rush things. I know what I need. I am not fine, but I will be okay. Stop. No. I don’t want to. I am not going to. I want space. Leave me alone. I know what I am talking about. Listen to me.
There are many reasons for speaking these words and mostly they have to do with me and my boundaries. I should not fear using these words to set my boundaries. I should not fear social criticism for saying No or don’t touch me. I should not wait until I finally explode with emotion and say these words. No one, male or female, should ever have to live in fear of saying these words in a group or alone. It is not okay. I am not interested in excuses. It does not matter who the person is I am saying them to. What matters is that I am saying them, and the words I say should be honored. I may not say them to everyone in a group, but I shouldn’t be forced to treat everyone with the same level of intimacy that I treat those I am close to.
If I behave in a way that describes these words, then that should also be honored. I should not be forced to say many of these words. A lot of this has to do with not assuming things about a person. It is about respecting them. The saying is not “do unto others as you wish done unto yourself” it is “do unto others as THEY wish done unto themselves.” It is okay to ask permission before touching a person, to have direct conversations about if something is okay or not, if it makes them comfortable or not. Maybe I don’t want to be hugged today even if you hug me every other time, but I should feel that telling you that is not going to damage our relationship. The next step is to let it be, accept the answer, stop asking the questions over and over. I trust you will tell me if you need something, give the same trust to me.
There are many things I have been taught about being a woman, and though I see signs that our society is changing, I am still struggling to change. Many of these are a habit for me. A habit from living in a world where I am expected and told to have a thicker skin or not cry. A habit formed from being called a bitch instead of a leader. A habit formed from being called a prude instead of someone with good boundaries. A habit formed from being taught that kindness and smiling meant I was a whore. From a young age I was taught some things about how to act in society, but they were solidified while in the service.
It’s time we make it normal to speak the words that we do not speak. It is time for those we speak them to, to encourage our actions, and to accept the words we say without excuses. These are the words I don’t easily speak, but I am working to say them because I am important and so are my boundaries. I am not going to stay quiet anymore and I will not allow anyone to call me names. Help me stop making these words so easy to not speak.
Original Post on Medium.