The Sixth One: Letting Yourself Be Happy With Who You Are
or
The Sixth One: Impossible Feats of Mankind
Happy New Year everyone!
Here's what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to write about New Year's Resolutions or Setting Goals or any of that shit.
Not to be a jerk about it. I know a lot of folks get a lot out of their resolutions but I kinda feel like I need to go back a few steps first. I don't think I'm capable of making really good resolutions until I know what I really WANT. And sometimes it's easier to know what you really want when you actually like yourself. And that's where I sometimes get a little stuck.
I avoid things I don't like. Hot stoves, mean people, bad smells, and haunted houses - just to name a few. It's reflexive and I don't really have to think too hard about it. It's self-preservation.
But here's the rub - if I don't like myself all that much then I avoid - myself. I don't listen to myself. I don't hear what my body and my heart are telling me. About my health, about my choices. About what it needs to be its ultimate, powerful, most peaceful self. I cover up the voice with alcohol, food, lots and lots of work, or - the worst - the voices of other people. Opinions about me and my choices that are pretty destructive. Sometimes completely at odds with what my deepest heart would tell me it absolutely knows to be true. And I trust all of those things more than I trust myself because... I don't really like myself.
I know, I know. You're already thinking, "Good Lord. This is like, self-help circa 1990."
Well, I'm retro.
Ask yourself this question:
"What do I like about myself?"
I recently tried this with a pen and paper and I seriously sat there for a good seven or eight minutes (minutes, folks, I timed it) before I could think of a single thing. Yikes. An interesting thing that started happening was that I felt compelled to write things that other people had told me about myself that I liked. Not things I felt. Being able to really stop and consider yourself takes a lot of courage. Make no mistake. It is breathtakingly hard at times to admit all the beautiful things about yourself that you know you know but haven't listened to or done anything about in years. It may drive you to do all sorts of crazy things. Start eating healthy. Start exercising more. Start a band. Start a volunteer organization. Start a new career.
Or it may make you sit down and have a nice, long cry. It may make you sit for a second and feel some grief and compassion for that poor little soul that was so ignored and repressed by all your good intentions to succeed/accomplish/please/impress/just get by.
This is actually a good thing. Contrary to popular belief, showing any emotion other than sugar-coated, saccharine sweetness or over-the-top, aggro, Alpha, warlord-like ambition is NOT a weak thing. Put aside your rom-com notions of "feelings" and indulge. Roll around in it for an hour or so. Put on some weepy music and let 'er rip. I guarantee something surprising and lovely will come out of it.
Then try your list.
See if giving a voice and some space to that richest place of wanting doesn't make you potently and powerfully aware of all the best parts of you. I could write lists for each and every one of you. I could. I'm good at it. I'm good at noticing all the great stuff about my friends and family. Some of you are too. But when asked to do it for ourselves can we be truly honest? Can we admit to being good at something that threatens the stagnant homeostasis of our current life and give it a try? Or do we retreat back to
"I'm nice."
"I'm a team-player."
"I'm reliable."
End of list
Expand your list today. Admit something terrifying. Then act on it.
I triple dog dare you.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Friday, November 15, 2013
5
The Fifth One: Why I Vehemently Believe In What I Do For A Living
or
The Fifth One: My Back Went Out And I Opted Against An Oxy Addiction And Crippling Debt
So my back went out recently. It was so fun.
I realize that a lot of you totally understand this experience and felt some sort of instantaneous tightening or tingling in some area of your lower spine the minute you read that. I also understand that for a lot of us hearing people talk about massage, acupuncture, or chiropractic adjustments as treatment for this and similar ailments also elicits a similarly specific response. Eyes roll a little, a smirk, and "Oh, that's cute. But not with the kind of pain I experience".
Yeah. I get it. I get that response tossed in my face quite often. Usually followed by a long story about a doctor, his or her diagnosis and how no one in the history of modern medicine has ever seen a case as unique and completely untreatable as this one. And that the ONLY option was surgery, pills, and a lifetime of pain and discomfort. Maybe this was true about ONE of you. Maybe parts of it were true about SOME of you. But for a lot of you - and I'm probably going to really offend you here - it wasn't.
Unfortunately, like most of what I write, this isn't ground-breaking material. One of these days I'll make it a mission to sit down and write something that actually sounds innovative. Or at the least not ripped from the headlines of "Women's Wear Daily". It's stuff that has been floating around the common consciousness for the last few years but it's something that still isn't being acted on. We're still cutting big chunks of ourselves out that inconvenience us and replacing them with Steve Austin's rejects. (Bionic Man, people. C'mon) We're still filling prescriptions for the kind of insanely addictive drugs that bring entire urban populations into crisis mode. (I'm so sorry for you Baltimore, Maryland) It's just too bizarre.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not preparing to launch into a brilliantly crafted, well-documented argument intended to bring the pharmaceutical industry to its knees. I've got a lot of "Vampire Diaries" to catch up on and I'm obviously too busy. I would like to offer up one person's experience with an alternative to the above-mentioned horror show and maybe shame one or two of you into rethinking a few things.
See - it went out at work. Midway through the second massage of my shift and - whammo - immobile. I had started out that day fine. Did my morning yoga. Did my walk. Ate breakfast. All good. Then I laid on the floor to read a book and apparently that was just too much craziness for one spine. (It's always something weird and seemingly innocuous from what I understand.) It got tight and uncomfortable but I just thought "I'll power through! I'm limber and healthy! It's fine". Ha. Later at work, as I felt the fist close around my lower back and grind every nerve ending into oblivion I thought, "Hmm. I guess I'm not fine. PLEASEGODMAKEITSTOPSWEETBABYJESUSINASWING" I barely "drove" home - stick shift in stop-and-go traffic nope - and immediately iced it (NOT a heating pad!!) I called one of my favorite massage therapists to schedule an appointment the very next day. I emailed my acupuncturist for the following day and a chiropractor for later in the week. I kept icing. I rested as best I could. There may have been a little wine those first couple nights but other than that I handled it with the best tools I knew. And you know what? A week later I was back at work. Minus extremely expensive surgeries that create entirely new problems and prescription "pain management" pills that give me another shot at stardom on a new season of "Intervention".
I don't intend this to be some smug "Look how much healthier I am! Squee!!" Facebookish post that makes you wanna tie me down and break my toes one at a time. But, honestly, if that is your reaction, maybe a little more exercise wouldn't be such a bad thing for you. Once again, I'm just putting it out there, that there is another option. And once again, some of you are already furiously typing your own personal tale of medically impossible phenomena that renders you immobile and immune to my "new age bullshit". And once again, once again - this is true for maybe ONE of you.
So. STOP TYPING. Sit for a second and consider that "Alternative Medicine" shouldn't be "Alternative". What if it was "Integrative"? What if it was "Medicine"?
I put a quote on my website that I made up and that I actually like: "Massage isn't a luxury. It's maintenance." (Pretty good, huh? Seriously. Kinda nailed it there.) Spas are great and fun but that's not what massage was originally intended for. It was the way Chinese, Indian, Japanese, and even Roman cultures healed themselves over two thousand years ago. Obviously, something in it works for it to be around that long. Acupuncture isn't a wacky trend made up in Ojai in the seventies. It is an ancient, well-researched, amazingly potent form of healing used by millions of people all over the world. Let's recognize that Western medicine isn't the only game in town, folks. All due respect to Madame Curie, Jonas Salk, and the efficacy of Ibuprofen on hangovers.
But the thing about these tools is that they aren't always as "instant" as we like our treatments. We wanna take a pill and have it solved. Go to the doctor and get a diagnosis. Have our surgery and forget about it. The irony of these solutions is that they aren't always solutions. Just opportunities to create more problems. That require more surgeries. And more pills. Bodywork and other related fields of healing require responsibility and awareness. They require you to breathe deeper, listen softly, and take notes. They require you. Present, accountable you. Not exactly stuff we're very good at.
Are we?
Try this. Stop thinking of your health as something that other people have all the control over. Maintain. Stop letting yourself believe that every solution to every problem lies in someone else's decision. Maintain. Look at the habits you have now that could lead to the kind of catastrophic failure that truly can only be fixed by the one-two punch of surgery and pills. Make changes. Embrace new possibilities. Get uncomfortable in your head and more comfortable in your body. Stretch. Drink a glass of water. Tell someone you love that you love them impossibly and watch the medicine flow.
You have so much more in you than you know. Your body is capable of so many beautiful and amazing things. You have super healing powers. You don't even need a red cape and tights - but I strongly encourage it.
Go be faster than a speeding bullet, you gorgeous thing, you.
Coming up...
Vampires In High Schools - Alive For Centuries But Still Can't Leave Seventeen-year-old Girls Alone. Good Lord.
Friday, October 25, 2013
4
Part Four: Why Haven't I Written Anything In Like Three Weeks
or
Part Four: How To Be Consistent
Everybody loves starting new things! (See my first post on this blog) It's exciting and hopeful and you haven't made a giant fool of yourself yet. You haven't blown it yet. If you're like me, you especially love getting "outfitted" for your new venture. And usually without finding out if you even like it. I'll buy new boots/books/racquets/glues/paints/pots/seeds/knives/forks/wax/polish/sanding belts (whoa!) and then I make a calendar (whee!) in which I can record all of my successes. I usually announce it somewhere really public so that when I neglect to actually do anything with all this crap I just bought I've got lots of handy chances to recount exactly how much money I wasted this time. It's all really fun. And then about two days (hours) into it all, you eventually find out that ionizing your water every day or scrapbooking your weekend in Temecula is very boring and you don't like it and that's the end. What follows is a feeling of failure and disgrace. Quickly followed by a yard sale.
I'm sure a lot of us do something similar with Wellness. Diets are notorious "Success Vacuums". And then there's exercise regiments - or as I like to call them - "Your Annual Opportunity To Fail". Too often I think we think of being healthy as something you have to "achieve". You either do it perfectly every time or you're useless.
Try this idea: being healthy is all in the choosing.
Huh?
Look, I think it goes without saying that your image of yourself as a being worth love, attention and gentle care is a necessary first step. We always seem to take better care of the stuff we value. If you understand how valuable you are then you don't do the things some of us do to ourselves: smoke, overeat, overdrink, worry, stress, strain, sit on a couch for seventeen straight hours in your underpants watching Netflix streaming. Understanding your value might just open the door for you to really start making the healthy choices and mindful habits that keep your body, mind and heart running smooth. And maybe it curtails a financially devastating shopping trip to REI. (Seriously, I almost came home with a canoe. A canoe.) And if choosing to do your routine or your habits every day methodically makes you feel good - awesome! Then you're on your way! But, similarly, if your journey is a little less regimented - if it ebbs and flows and sometimes sinks in a hole then comes back after a brief absence - still awesome! Because you still came back. And that was a good choice.
I realize all of this advice is readily available on a plethora of "women's" magazine covers or afternoon talk shows. And maybe it annoys you as much as it does me. But here's the difference - I'm also asking you to really check in with your inspiration to do these things. I'm asking you to really examine your impetus. (And no - you don't need to do humiliating things in front of a mirror to find it - get your mind outta the gutter.) Because I'll bet if you think about it there are plenty of things you do in a day that aren't so hot for you and the reason you do them is equal parts addiction and mindlessness. I'm here to posit that the antidote is a nice little shot of "Today, I'm gonna give a shit." Maybe instead you shift a little gear in your mind that never realized how good it feels to be taken care of the right way. To have someone take the remote out of your hand then take that hand outside for a walk around the block. That someone can and should be you.
And here's how I think it helps lead to consistency; because it's something you do to take care of yourself. And you like that. Even if you don't always like an hour of yoga every morning, you like being focused, patient and alert. Even if you don't like eating almonds instead of potato chips, you like laughing with your family more than having a heart attack. OK - that one seemed harsh. But truth hurts. Almost as much as heart attacks.
I recently went to a beautiful place in Big Sur and surrounded myself with loving grace and beautiful peace. It was absolutely perfect. I worked in the garden, walked up giant hills, took two hour naps, listened to haunting psalms being sung in a gloriously simple sanctuary that opened to an endless sky. I was silent almost the entire time. I opened my ears and my heart to a better possibility for myself. I opened myself to a new idea that I deserved it all. That I was imperfect in the most aspirational of ways. I felt good.
Then, when I got home -
I immediately got drunk. It wasn't funny and it wasn't good. That was my response to myself for all that love and care up there. That was how I saw myself back in my life here.
So, the next morning, I saw what I had done and I... chose something else. Didn't spiral off into frustration and defeat. Didn't forget what I had learned. I remembered my trip. I remembered it all and treated myself with compassion. I remembered that I spent that week in a state of love and forgiveness that we rarely allow ourselves. And I really liked it better than feeling wasted. Imagine that. Three weeks later, I'm trucking right along.
Thankfully, I'm still not doing it right all the time.
Because if I was I wouldn't have the chance to choose peace over turmoil. And it's in that choosing that I think we find the opportunity to showcase our best Wellness. We have the chance to be consistent in the only thing that counts. Love. No matter what.
Go be consistent.
Coming up:
Who Wants To Buy This Canoe? Or This Snowboard? Or These Scrapbooks? Or This Home Jam Kit?
or
Part Four: How To Be Consistent
Everybody loves starting new things! (See my first post on this blog) It's exciting and hopeful and you haven't made a giant fool of yourself yet. You haven't blown it yet. If you're like me, you especially love getting "outfitted" for your new venture. And usually without finding out if you even like it. I'll buy new boots/books/racquets/glues/paints/pots/seeds/knives/forks/wax/polish/sanding belts (whoa!) and then I make a calendar (whee!) in which I can record all of my successes. I usually announce it somewhere really public so that when I neglect to actually do anything with all this crap I just bought I've got lots of handy chances to recount exactly how much money I wasted this time. It's all really fun. And then about two days (hours) into it all, you eventually find out that ionizing your water every day or scrapbooking your weekend in Temecula is very boring and you don't like it and that's the end. What follows is a feeling of failure and disgrace. Quickly followed by a yard sale.
I'm sure a lot of us do something similar with Wellness. Diets are notorious "Success Vacuums". And then there's exercise regiments - or as I like to call them - "Your Annual Opportunity To Fail". Too often I think we think of being healthy as something you have to "achieve". You either do it perfectly every time or you're useless.
Try this idea: being healthy is all in the choosing.
Huh?
Look, I think it goes without saying that your image of yourself as a being worth love, attention and gentle care is a necessary first step. We always seem to take better care of the stuff we value. If you understand how valuable you are then you don't do the things some of us do to ourselves: smoke, overeat, overdrink, worry, stress, strain, sit on a couch for seventeen straight hours in your underpants watching Netflix streaming. Understanding your value might just open the door for you to really start making the healthy choices and mindful habits that keep your body, mind and heart running smooth. And maybe it curtails a financially devastating shopping trip to REI. (Seriously, I almost came home with a canoe. A canoe.) And if choosing to do your routine or your habits every day methodically makes you feel good - awesome! Then you're on your way! But, similarly, if your journey is a little less regimented - if it ebbs and flows and sometimes sinks in a hole then comes back after a brief absence - still awesome! Because you still came back. And that was a good choice.
I realize all of this advice is readily available on a plethora of "women's" magazine covers or afternoon talk shows. And maybe it annoys you as much as it does me. But here's the difference - I'm also asking you to really check in with your inspiration to do these things. I'm asking you to really examine your impetus. (And no - you don't need to do humiliating things in front of a mirror to find it - get your mind outta the gutter.) Because I'll bet if you think about it there are plenty of things you do in a day that aren't so hot for you and the reason you do them is equal parts addiction and mindlessness. I'm here to posit that the antidote is a nice little shot of "Today, I'm gonna give a shit." Maybe instead you shift a little gear in your mind that never realized how good it feels to be taken care of the right way. To have someone take the remote out of your hand then take that hand outside for a walk around the block. That someone can and should be you.
And here's how I think it helps lead to consistency; because it's something you do to take care of yourself. And you like that. Even if you don't always like an hour of yoga every morning, you like being focused, patient and alert. Even if you don't like eating almonds instead of potato chips, you like laughing with your family more than having a heart attack. OK - that one seemed harsh. But truth hurts. Almost as much as heart attacks.
I recently went to a beautiful place in Big Sur and surrounded myself with loving grace and beautiful peace. It was absolutely perfect. I worked in the garden, walked up giant hills, took two hour naps, listened to haunting psalms being sung in a gloriously simple sanctuary that opened to an endless sky. I was silent almost the entire time. I opened my ears and my heart to a better possibility for myself. I opened myself to a new idea that I deserved it all. That I was imperfect in the most aspirational of ways. I felt good.
Then, when I got home -
I immediately got drunk. It wasn't funny and it wasn't good. That was my response to myself for all that love and care up there. That was how I saw myself back in my life here.
So, the next morning, I saw what I had done and I... chose something else. Didn't spiral off into frustration and defeat. Didn't forget what I had learned. I remembered my trip. I remembered it all and treated myself with compassion. I remembered that I spent that week in a state of love and forgiveness that we rarely allow ourselves. And I really liked it better than feeling wasted. Imagine that. Three weeks later, I'm trucking right along.
Thankfully, I'm still not doing it right all the time.
Because if I was I wouldn't have the chance to choose peace over turmoil. And it's in that choosing that I think we find the opportunity to showcase our best Wellness. We have the chance to be consistent in the only thing that counts. Love. No matter what.
Go be consistent.
Coming up:
Who Wants To Buy This Canoe? Or This Snowboard? Or These Scrapbooks? Or This Home Jam Kit?
Monday, September 30, 2013
3
Episode Three: Why I'm Finally Kicking My Regret Habit and Shedding Those Last Five Pounds Of "Fear Weight"
or
Episode Three: Letting Go
First of all, I'm almost positive "fear weight" is a thing. And even if it isn't, it should be. It's mostly in the belly, but sometimes resides in the heart. Or the face. It isn't always measured on a scale or in the snugness of one's denim. It presents in its victims as an overall feeling of heaviness and/or dread. My research shows that it is highly contagious and very serious. I'll look into getting this into the PDR and I'll get back to you.
One of the initial causes seems to be regret.
I have a lot of things I regret in my life. (And I regret that too. See how coo-coo this gets?) The beautiful, life-affirming way to see it is that I've always been a risk-taker. That I pushed forward in my life and wasn't afraid of failing. That I had hope and passion and enthusiasm out the wazoo. But to be very honest, I mostly just did things without thinking of the consequences at all. And I mean that.
At.
All.
I think there are a fair number of us who don't consider consequences. I think when it comes to health especially we are a people who do love our vices. We won't even admit that some of them ARE vices. Instead, we call them "relaxing", "unwinding", "decompressing" or my personal favorite "me time". That's just stupid.
A lot of it has to do with escaping. And that's not really such a good thing.
So, for a second, let's turn and face what the real problem is.
Escaping.
Regret.
Shame.
Suddenly, I don't like this idea. This is very uncomfortable and very tight. I think I just gained another 7 pounds. And so what do I do? Anything. Everything. Except sit down and be still. Be quiet. Listen to the smallest, scariest part of my heart that hasn't been heard from since I got my first Walkman. We drown out a lot of our worry and fear and regret with so much background noise and insist that it doesn't exist. But it's still there. Lurking. And late at night when your defenses are down and your mind isn't distracted by the myriad of devices and remotes you love to lose yourself in, a fist will squeeze your heart. A shiver wracks your body. Your face contracts in a grimace. And it hits you.
I'm so terrified.
There are plenty of things to be afraid of these days. Even right in our own bathrooms. (I'm sorry, but whatever that thing is that keeps building its nest behind my toilet has got to GO.) But I don't want this to become a list of all those things. I don't want to sit here and feed, inform or create one single moment of that. (Except for that thing behind the toilet. Seriously, what is it?) I wanted to get it out there that I'm working on a way of actually seeing the fears for what they are. Being honest about it. Hopefully it makes room for some of that old hope and passion. My wazoo got emptied out a long time ago and apparently it doesn't automatically refill.
I'm going to this semi-cloistered monastery in Big Sur today. I'll be really quiet because they asked nicely and hopefully I'll get the chance to see some of the fears up close and personal. It'll be like Sasquatch hunting. But different. I'll try and hold them close and whisper to them that I'm better these days. I understand that the reason they appeared in the first place was because of that time before. When I acted without thinking. And the consequences were so much worse than I ever could've expected. That the hurt and pain and losses I caused myself and unfortunately so many others were indeed very scary. But being afraid to try again - being afraid to risk again - isn't the answer.
The empty space that I might create from shedding this old story seems the scariest thing of all. Who are you if you aren't all your old stories? Some of us have gotten very comfortable with the worst possible pictures we've painted and the idea of creating a better more beautiful one seems like a lot of work. That will hurt. But hopefully it's what you can do with five days of silence. Or at least, get a very good start in prepping your canvas.
Alright. The writers in the crowd just punched their desks in agony at all of the mixed metaphors I just deployed in that last bit.
Forgive me. I'm excited for my trip.
Wish me luck! I'll be sharing a shower and I don't plan on shaving my legs. (I'm not sure how those two things fit together but I'm sure it's something that Bridget Jones would have a field day with.) I want to come back nice and rested and possibly with a lot of souvenir love to hand out.
And maybe a new career! Who knows - maybe I'm onto something with this whole "Wazoo Refills" thing.
Cottage industry here I come.
Next week:
How I Sold My New TLC Pilot: "Sasquatch Monks: Getting Feral With the Lord"
or
Episode Three: Letting Go
First of all, I'm almost positive "fear weight" is a thing. And even if it isn't, it should be. It's mostly in the belly, but sometimes resides in the heart. Or the face. It isn't always measured on a scale or in the snugness of one's denim. It presents in its victims as an overall feeling of heaviness and/or dread. My research shows that it is highly contagious and very serious. I'll look into getting this into the PDR and I'll get back to you.
One of the initial causes seems to be regret.
I have a lot of things I regret in my life. (And I regret that too. See how coo-coo this gets?) The beautiful, life-affirming way to see it is that I've always been a risk-taker. That I pushed forward in my life and wasn't afraid of failing. That I had hope and passion and enthusiasm out the wazoo. But to be very honest, I mostly just did things without thinking of the consequences at all. And I mean that.
At.
All.
I think there are a fair number of us who don't consider consequences. I think when it comes to health especially we are a people who do love our vices. We won't even admit that some of them ARE vices. Instead, we call them "relaxing", "unwinding", "decompressing" or my personal favorite "me time". That's just stupid.
A lot of it has to do with escaping. And that's not really such a good thing.
So, for a second, let's turn and face what the real problem is.
Escaping.
Regret.
Shame.
Suddenly, I don't like this idea. This is very uncomfortable and very tight. I think I just gained another 7 pounds. And so what do I do? Anything. Everything. Except sit down and be still. Be quiet. Listen to the smallest, scariest part of my heart that hasn't been heard from since I got my first Walkman. We drown out a lot of our worry and fear and regret with so much background noise and insist that it doesn't exist. But it's still there. Lurking. And late at night when your defenses are down and your mind isn't distracted by the myriad of devices and remotes you love to lose yourself in, a fist will squeeze your heart. A shiver wracks your body. Your face contracts in a grimace. And it hits you.
I'm so terrified.
There are plenty of things to be afraid of these days. Even right in our own bathrooms. (I'm sorry, but whatever that thing is that keeps building its nest behind my toilet has got to GO.) But I don't want this to become a list of all those things. I don't want to sit here and feed, inform or create one single moment of that. (Except for that thing behind the toilet. Seriously, what is it?) I wanted to get it out there that I'm working on a way of actually seeing the fears for what they are. Being honest about it. Hopefully it makes room for some of that old hope and passion. My wazoo got emptied out a long time ago and apparently it doesn't automatically refill.
I'm going to this semi-cloistered monastery in Big Sur today. I'll be really quiet because they asked nicely and hopefully I'll get the chance to see some of the fears up close and personal. It'll be like Sasquatch hunting. But different. I'll try and hold them close and whisper to them that I'm better these days. I understand that the reason they appeared in the first place was because of that time before. When I acted without thinking. And the consequences were so much worse than I ever could've expected. That the hurt and pain and losses I caused myself and unfortunately so many others were indeed very scary. But being afraid to try again - being afraid to risk again - isn't the answer.
The empty space that I might create from shedding this old story seems the scariest thing of all. Who are you if you aren't all your old stories? Some of us have gotten very comfortable with the worst possible pictures we've painted and the idea of creating a better more beautiful one seems like a lot of work. That will hurt. But hopefully it's what you can do with five days of silence. Or at least, get a very good start in prepping your canvas.
Alright. The writers in the crowd just punched their desks in agony at all of the mixed metaphors I just deployed in that last bit.
Forgive me. I'm excited for my trip.
Wish me luck! I'll be sharing a shower and I don't plan on shaving my legs. (I'm not sure how those two things fit together but I'm sure it's something that Bridget Jones would have a field day with.) I want to come back nice and rested and possibly with a lot of souvenir love to hand out.
And maybe a new career! Who knows - maybe I'm onto something with this whole "Wazoo Refills" thing.
Cottage industry here I come.
Next week:
How I Sold My New TLC Pilot: "Sasquatch Monks: Getting Feral With the Lord"
Friday, September 20, 2013
2
Chapter Two: Don't Take It Personally
or
Chapter Two: How "Awesome" It Feels To Be Told How To Feel
"Don't take it so personally!"
If you are like me then you have heard that phrase so many times in your life that you often feel that you will punch the next person who says it to you in their face. But you don't. Because you don't want to take it personally.
So this week I'm going to talk about some ideas I've been having lately about that phrase. I'm making it less of the usual recrimination/"advice-for-your-own-good-from-a-person-who-clearly-thinks-you're-an-idiot-and-need-to-be-instructed-on-how-to-interpret-their-obviously-insensitive-and-hurtful-remarks" and more of the perfect starting place for the sort of lovingkindness we all deserve.
"To take something personal" to me implies that you take something on. That you make it an undeniable truth about yourself when in fact it may just be "some thing that happened". Traffic for example. (I know, I know, - super obvious and overused - but somehow I'm still getting upset about it.) Now, I may feel that there has indeed been a major conspiracy that every Aerostar in the greater San Fernando Valley area would drive 10 miles below the speed limit, shoulder to shoulder, down the very roads that I, Heather Burress, need to drive down to get to work. In reality, it may just be that I should calm the hell down and listen to some nice NPR. It's not to say I shouldn't feel frustrated about it. No one is encouraging heartless, robot-like control over your emotions. But it's not happening "to" me. Get it?
Good. Because most of the time I don't either. But I'm getting there.
Things happen. Minor things - like traffic - and also Major Things. People lose jobs, get sick, pass away. Lots of horrible and sad things happen. I seriously am not intending to be glib here. But how do you perceive them? Does it feel deeply personal and isolating? 'Cause it does to me. Here's a thought: next time I'm sitting in that traffic, what if I were to just sit back and actually feel what it felt like - uniquely in the moment - instead of comparing it to every other sad and terrible thing that has ever happened to me and then using this comparison to inform my reaction to future horrible things.
That would be amazing. And incredibly constructive.
I could stop making sitting in traffic a hugely offensive insult to my personality that surely means I am a horrible person who deserves no happiness or good fortune (yeah, folks, it gets like that sometimes, doesn't it?) and instead understand that this inconvenient, annoying thing that is happening right now will eventually stop. And I'll leave it behind.
To some of you this will seem obvious. You are wizards.
To the the rest of us pleebs it becomes a daily challenge to let our experiences be events - not personality shapers. To not take every traffic jam, office drama, family squabble or even - and especially - legitimately heart-wrenching tragedy into our very DNA. Because in addition to holding us back it can make us very sick. I myself have experienced this. Stress, depression and anxiety that manifested as eczema, insomnia and wrinkles - let's call them "2013's Greatest Hits". For some unlucky souls even some of the biggies - addiction, high blood pressure and heart disease - can become the tangible results of internalizing every harsh word or awkward encounter.
Massage can actually help this, you know. Releasing muscles and tension also releases energy. And pain. And heavy memories that our bodies are tired of carrying. Yes, exercise helps too. Sweating out the toxins that clog up our pores AND our souls. But, really - getting a deep, therapeutic session of informed and professional bodywork is an investment that is so much more valuable than this week's happy hour with the girls or another over-priced meal at that place you guys always love for date night.
I'm just sayin'.
Try this today. After you book your next massage appointment, find something in your heart that happened to you that changed you. Find an event or interaction that you can go back to and really see. Something sad or hurtful or hard that keeps coming back up every time a similar event occurs. Or even better, when a completely unsimilar event occurs. Then, try looking at the original event as an observer. Try seeing the things that were said or done not as intentionally hurtful or harmful but just as words or actions that were said and done by another person with another story that they feel equally as passionate and certain about. See what this feels like. It will probably be unpleasant. You may think I am stupid for suggesting it and tell me so the next time you see me. That's cool. I'll hug you anyway. And maybe rub your shoulders a bit. But eventually - hopefully - you can start to see it as a thing that just happened. An event that had pain and sadness or frustration and anger around it for sure - but one that can't continue to force you into responses and reactions in your current present. A present that deserves a much more immediate and loving person in it.
Recently, I had a very deep and interesting and entirely impromptu conversation about this very thing to a man I know. He teaches meditation at UCLA and elsewhere around the country. He is also a very handsome man so my memory of some of it might be a little foggy. Got a little distracted in the middle there. He told a very clever story about two young goldfish swimming in a pond. A wise, old carp slowly swam by them and said, "Hey boys. Water's great, huh?" Then, he swam on. The one young goldfish looked at the other and said, "What the hell is 'water'?"
Let's all take a minute to check what we're swimming in. See how it feels.
I'll bet you five bucks you feel better.
Next week: What Does Five Bucks Really Buy You In An Economy As Shitty As This One
or
Chapter Two: How "Awesome" It Feels To Be Told How To Feel
"Don't take it so personally!"
If you are like me then you have heard that phrase so many times in your life that you often feel that you will punch the next person who says it to you in their face. But you don't. Because you don't want to take it personally.
So this week I'm going to talk about some ideas I've been having lately about that phrase. I'm making it less of the usual recrimination/"advice-for-your-own-good-from-a-person-who-clearly-thinks-you're-an-idiot-and-need-to-be-instructed-on-how-to-interpret-their-obviously-insensitive-and-hurtful-remarks" and more of the perfect starting place for the sort of lovingkindness we all deserve.
"To take something personal" to me implies that you take something on. That you make it an undeniable truth about yourself when in fact it may just be "some thing that happened". Traffic for example. (I know, I know, - super obvious and overused - but somehow I'm still getting upset about it.) Now, I may feel that there has indeed been a major conspiracy that every Aerostar in the greater San Fernando Valley area would drive 10 miles below the speed limit, shoulder to shoulder, down the very roads that I, Heather Burress, need to drive down to get to work. In reality, it may just be that I should calm the hell down and listen to some nice NPR. It's not to say I shouldn't feel frustrated about it. No one is encouraging heartless, robot-like control over your emotions. But it's not happening "to" me. Get it?
Good. Because most of the time I don't either. But I'm getting there.
Things happen. Minor things - like traffic - and also Major Things. People lose jobs, get sick, pass away. Lots of horrible and sad things happen. I seriously am not intending to be glib here. But how do you perceive them? Does it feel deeply personal and isolating? 'Cause it does to me. Here's a thought: next time I'm sitting in that traffic, what if I were to just sit back and actually feel what it felt like - uniquely in the moment - instead of comparing it to every other sad and terrible thing that has ever happened to me and then using this comparison to inform my reaction to future horrible things.
That would be amazing. And incredibly constructive.
I could stop making sitting in traffic a hugely offensive insult to my personality that surely means I am a horrible person who deserves no happiness or good fortune (yeah, folks, it gets like that sometimes, doesn't it?) and instead understand that this inconvenient, annoying thing that is happening right now will eventually stop. And I'll leave it behind.
To some of you this will seem obvious. You are wizards.
To the the rest of us pleebs it becomes a daily challenge to let our experiences be events - not personality shapers. To not take every traffic jam, office drama, family squabble or even - and especially - legitimately heart-wrenching tragedy into our very DNA. Because in addition to holding us back it can make us very sick. I myself have experienced this. Stress, depression and anxiety that manifested as eczema, insomnia and wrinkles - let's call them "2013's Greatest Hits". For some unlucky souls even some of the biggies - addiction, high blood pressure and heart disease - can become the tangible results of internalizing every harsh word or awkward encounter.
Massage can actually help this, you know. Releasing muscles and tension also releases energy. And pain. And heavy memories that our bodies are tired of carrying. Yes, exercise helps too. Sweating out the toxins that clog up our pores AND our souls. But, really - getting a deep, therapeutic session of informed and professional bodywork is an investment that is so much more valuable than this week's happy hour with the girls or another over-priced meal at that place you guys always love for date night.
I'm just sayin'.
Try this today. After you book your next massage appointment, find something in your heart that happened to you that changed you. Find an event or interaction that you can go back to and really see. Something sad or hurtful or hard that keeps coming back up every time a similar event occurs. Or even better, when a completely unsimilar event occurs. Then, try looking at the original event as an observer. Try seeing the things that were said or done not as intentionally hurtful or harmful but just as words or actions that were said and done by another person with another story that they feel equally as passionate and certain about. See what this feels like. It will probably be unpleasant. You may think I am stupid for suggesting it and tell me so the next time you see me. That's cool. I'll hug you anyway. And maybe rub your shoulders a bit. But eventually - hopefully - you can start to see it as a thing that just happened. An event that had pain and sadness or frustration and anger around it for sure - but one that can't continue to force you into responses and reactions in your current present. A present that deserves a much more immediate and loving person in it.
Recently, I had a very deep and interesting and entirely impromptu conversation about this very thing to a man I know. He teaches meditation at UCLA and elsewhere around the country. He is also a very handsome man so my memory of some of it might be a little foggy. Got a little distracted in the middle there. He told a very clever story about two young goldfish swimming in a pond. A wise, old carp slowly swam by them and said, "Hey boys. Water's great, huh?" Then, he swam on. The one young goldfish looked at the other and said, "What the hell is 'water'?"
Let's all take a minute to check what we're swimming in. See how it feels.
I'll bet you five bucks you feel better.
Next week: What Does Five Bucks Really Buy You In An Economy As Shitty As This One
Thursday, September 12, 2013
1
Day One: How To Come To Terms With A New Life Because Your Old One Left You Behind
or
Day One: New Starts, Small Starts and All Things Modest
Here it is. My spankin' new blog. First post. Onward!
(Silence)
Anyway...
I am writing a blog. I am writing it because I have all these ideas that swim around in my head about health (physical and mental) and wellness and bodies and aging (gracefully and otherwise). I wanted to write about them. Put them down someplace somewhat public and thereby engage in my greatest love - storytelling.
Now before you dismiss me out of hand, please know that I do have SOME degree of experience. In both storytelling (I was a professional actor for 18 years) and health (I graduated from massage therapy school in 2012 and currently work at a hugely popular SoCal day spa in addition to a mobile massage service and my own private clients). I went back to school because I could no longer support myself on a career that had been paying the bills for most of my adult life. And paying them rather well, I might add. It was a "Dream Come True" kind of job. Until it wasn't.
So back to school I went. And I felt tremendously fortunate to have found something that I loved and was excited about. I jumped into my new career passionately and with loads of hope and enthusiasm and great, BIG dreams of success.
I'm getting some perspective.
This career - like all careers - takes a lot of work and more than a little initiative. Two things I had felt comfortable with due to my former career. Acting is a job that takes all kinds of discipline and dedication. And really thick skin. So I thought, "No problem! The first year or so will be hard but I'm good at this. It's worth it and so am I!"
One year later and I already realize how naive some of that was. Notice I say "some". Because I do feel that even though this job as a massage therapist is a lot less heroic than I had imagined - I'm not saving anyone's life neither am I hoisting Olympic athletes onto the podium with my Wizard-like bodywork skills - I am doing what I set out to do. Make money as a professional massage therapist and make people feel better. When I keep my goals humble, things are SO MUCH EASIER.
Which brings me to a great topic to start with! (See how this works!)
Humble Beginnings!
Whether you're starting a new career, a new wellness plan, a new exercise habit - or a new blog - "starting" is the start.
It's a noun. A person, place or thing. It's little. You can hold it. Shape it a bit. Dream about it. Stare at it.
But then you have to blow some life on it. You have to take a chance and let it go. Let it grow. And pretty soon, you've got a verb on your hands. Action. Movement. Momentum.
Take five minutes today and find your noun. Find your start and let it be small for a while. There's plenty of time for verbs later. When you've gotten the hang of your start, when you know it so intimately that it becomes an extension of you and who you are and most importantly what you really truly WANT, then you worry yourself with the doing.
So today my start was:
The idea.
The idea that I can sit down and combine my love of creative things (writing, performing, strorytelling) with my love of wellness (massage, bodywork, healing) and maybe inform, maybe entertain, 5 or 10 or 500 people. See - I'm going big again! But that's OK. Because the other part of all of this is the "hoping".
Hope.
There's a magical word. An elixir for success. For youth and vibrancy. For beginners. And I want to constantly and always be a beginner. A person who makes mistakes. And we all know what mistakes really bring. Children. KIDDING! (jeez - calm down) They bring information. And I for one need a lot of information to keep going.
I'm hitting a landmark birthday in about three weeks and I have to say I'm more than a little scared. Granted, I'm very grateful for lots of stuff - a healthy body, a roof over my head, lovely friends and family - but it's sobering and scary and sometimes a little bit sad to realize you're looking at the back half of probably 80 or so years of existence.
SIDE NOTE: Yes, yes - we all know that person who insists that they "really prefer" this time in their life to their 20's and 30's and "wasn't bothered at all" by their birthday. They also leap tall buildings in a single bound and can only eat ONE Lay's potato chip. Good for you. Seriously. Congrats. Now shut up and let me mourn my firm upper arms.
Back to my point -
I'm making mistakes. (Sometimes, like, 27 in one day. All related to clothing.) Hopefully this blog isn't one of them.
I'm making new starts. Hopefully this blog IS one of them.
I have a job that I appreciate - even if I don't always love it - and that is enough. I will grow and learn and work hard and be willing.
I hope this works! I'm certainly humbler about it than I was one year ago. Or even 10 years ago. Turning 40 does that to a gal.
Next time...
Turning 40: How Not To Turn Your Birthday Party Into An Exercise In Self-Loathing and Regret. (Hint: Avoid gin. And fortunetellers.)
or
Day One: New Starts, Small Starts and All Things Modest
Here it is. My spankin' new blog. First post. Onward!
(Silence)
Anyway...
I am writing a blog. I am writing it because I have all these ideas that swim around in my head about health (physical and mental) and wellness and bodies and aging (gracefully and otherwise). I wanted to write about them. Put them down someplace somewhat public and thereby engage in my greatest love - storytelling.
Now before you dismiss me out of hand, please know that I do have SOME degree of experience. In both storytelling (I was a professional actor for 18 years) and health (I graduated from massage therapy school in 2012 and currently work at a hugely popular SoCal day spa in addition to a mobile massage service and my own private clients). I went back to school because I could no longer support myself on a career that had been paying the bills for most of my adult life. And paying them rather well, I might add. It was a "Dream Come True" kind of job. Until it wasn't.
So back to school I went. And I felt tremendously fortunate to have found something that I loved and was excited about. I jumped into my new career passionately and with loads of hope and enthusiasm and great, BIG dreams of success.
I'm getting some perspective.
This career - like all careers - takes a lot of work and more than a little initiative. Two things I had felt comfortable with due to my former career. Acting is a job that takes all kinds of discipline and dedication. And really thick skin. So I thought, "No problem! The first year or so will be hard but I'm good at this. It's worth it and so am I!"
One year later and I already realize how naive some of that was. Notice I say "some". Because I do feel that even though this job as a massage therapist is a lot less heroic than I had imagined - I'm not saving anyone's life neither am I hoisting Olympic athletes onto the podium with my Wizard-like bodywork skills - I am doing what I set out to do. Make money as a professional massage therapist and make people feel better. When I keep my goals humble, things are SO MUCH EASIER.
Which brings me to a great topic to start with! (See how this works!)
Humble Beginnings!
Whether you're starting a new career, a new wellness plan, a new exercise habit - or a new blog - "starting" is the start.
It's a noun. A person, place or thing. It's little. You can hold it. Shape it a bit. Dream about it. Stare at it.
But then you have to blow some life on it. You have to take a chance and let it go. Let it grow. And pretty soon, you've got a verb on your hands. Action. Movement. Momentum.
Take five minutes today and find your noun. Find your start and let it be small for a while. There's plenty of time for verbs later. When you've gotten the hang of your start, when you know it so intimately that it becomes an extension of you and who you are and most importantly what you really truly WANT, then you worry yourself with the doing.
So today my start was:
The idea.
The idea that I can sit down and combine my love of creative things (writing, performing, strorytelling) with my love of wellness (massage, bodywork, healing) and maybe inform, maybe entertain, 5 or 10 or 500 people. See - I'm going big again! But that's OK. Because the other part of all of this is the "hoping".
Hope.
There's a magical word. An elixir for success. For youth and vibrancy. For beginners. And I want to constantly and always be a beginner. A person who makes mistakes. And we all know what mistakes really bring. Children. KIDDING! (jeez - calm down) They bring information. And I for one need a lot of information to keep going.
I'm hitting a landmark birthday in about three weeks and I have to say I'm more than a little scared. Granted, I'm very grateful for lots of stuff - a healthy body, a roof over my head, lovely friends and family - but it's sobering and scary and sometimes a little bit sad to realize you're looking at the back half of probably 80 or so years of existence.
SIDE NOTE: Yes, yes - we all know that person who insists that they "really prefer" this time in their life to their 20's and 30's and "wasn't bothered at all" by their birthday. They also leap tall buildings in a single bound and can only eat ONE Lay's potato chip. Good for you. Seriously. Congrats. Now shut up and let me mourn my firm upper arms.
Back to my point -
I'm making mistakes. (Sometimes, like, 27 in one day. All related to clothing.) Hopefully this blog isn't one of them.
I'm making new starts. Hopefully this blog IS one of them.
I have a job that I appreciate - even if I don't always love it - and that is enough. I will grow and learn and work hard and be willing.
I hope this works! I'm certainly humbler about it than I was one year ago. Or even 10 years ago. Turning 40 does that to a gal.
Next time...
Turning 40: How Not To Turn Your Birthday Party Into An Exercise In Self-Loathing and Regret. (Hint: Avoid gin. And fortunetellers.)
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