The overwhelming reality

So I was looking at my blog and realized this quasi-fledgling endeavor of mine has become part of what I refer to ‘Internet overwhelm’. Everyone knows that the internet is FILLED TO THE BRIM with more information, opinion, and the unknown than any one human could ever consume in an entire lifetime. Even people who are readers or people who stumble upon this particular blog, seem to be suffering from information fatigue.

This concept ties directly in with the recent posts over here about Facebook in particular, but social media generally. In a way, I’d consider blogs as social media. What I find most intersting though is that blogging seems to be less two-way interaction than other forms of social media. Of course there’s a comment section, which I encourage readers to make use of, it’s less immediate and public as posts to social media.

There’s this feeling as if between our personal lives and the atmosphere in the world, many forms of sharing just become part of the larger backdrop, and very little stands out anymore.  It all just becomes the hum around us.

After my break from social media, these nuances are becoming more clear and I’m categorically less interested in participating. Strangely and surprisingly, my husband who is an intense social media user, all but deleted his fb account today. He wants to keep in touch with a couple people and maintain his presence in a couple of niche groups, so he didn’t delete it completely. But he removed all of his friends, with three exceptions, myself being one of them.

He sent the friends he wants to maintain messages containing his email and phone number, but then promptly deleted them and moved on. I’m proud of him. I doubt I’ll go to that extent, but I have already found myself frustrated and annoyed with the state of these things.

What about you, the readers? Care to weigh in on your opinions?

Thanks for reading!

Fight or flight

It has become increasingly difficult to focus on my day job. Not only am I bored by the tasks and lack of opportunity for growth, but I also have so many other things in the works. I am working on becoming my own boss and business owner and trying to maintain some shred of hope, given the political climate in this country.

I’ve never felt such a direct and opposite “pulling” force between my fight and flight sides. Part of me wants to try and keep some semblance of the life I lead, to not lose hope, to fight the good fight and create the life I am meant for. But on the other hand, there is something strongly pulling me away from all that, telling me that my family is more important and getting them the hell out of this dumpster before it blows sky high. I just want to run away somewhere safe and hope there’s a life to come back to in four years.

Between social media and the mainstream media, I’m overwhelmed and saddened. The alternative media is equally disheartening. We are living in a very sad time for human rights and social responsibility. It can be paralyzing, and right now, I feel paralyzed with glimmers of motivation and action. It simply weighs heavy on my heart that the world is not shaping up to be a place where people are free to love and marry whomever they choose, that health is only for the wealthy, and that life is largely not affordable for those that work for a living. It is saddening. And those of us that were working toward those things, hoping beyond hope for those things, are devastated. The feeling is real.

Finding happiness in the destruction of everything we hold dear as a nation borders on impossible. The only thing keeping my head above water is my physical and moral obligation to not fuck up for my kid. She knows nothing of the world, of politics. She is content being a toddler and little else. She loves her parents, her pets, eating snacks, and good music. If only everything were that simple. But her smile makes my day worth the struggle. What else is there? My husband, gardening, pets that we care for… they’re the crux of my life. They are the catalyst to happiness, since happiness comes from within. My family makes me want to be a better person, to keep waking up every day, and to be happy when it’s appropriate.

What the what?

First let me begin by saying happy New Year to all of my readers. I appreciate your continued support, and I hope that 2017 finds you happy and healthy.

Next, as many of my long time readers know, I typically do a “year in review” sort of post that outlines some things that I’ve accomplished in terms of my quest for sustained happiness in everyday life. Also in that post I usually mention some goals that I have for the coming year and how I plan to achieve them. I haven’t done that this time, and truthfully, I have no intention of doing so. In hindsight, 2016 was a trying year in a number of ways. It began with my small family being displaced and sleeping on floors and couches. 2015 ended the same way after we sold our former home, but by 2016, it had been more than three months of this, with a small child. It had grown cumbersome and I was quite exhausted. The year was a train wreck to the bitter end in many ways, albeit sprinkled with joys.

I was fortunate to see my daughter take her first steps, say her first words and now, all the things that followed those milestones. We are no longer displaced and I have a comfortable, but at times extremely stressful, job that pays most of the bills. What’s different though is that for the last several months, I’ve lacked motivation to do the things that I’ve been meaning to do, or things that bring me joy. Writing has fallen by the wayside for sure. I don’t like feeling unmotivated and depressed. I’m sure there are some people who relish in their misery, but I am simply not that person.

I am also acutely aware that 100% happiness, 100% of the time is also unattainable and frankly, unwanted. I know that if you’re never unhappy, happiness is no longer special and it then becomes the “norm” by which everything is then measured. If you don’t live up to that new level, unhappiness reigns. However, my quest for daily joys has taken me to interesting places. While I have not been writing as much, I’ve been reading a lot more.

I’ve been reading articles on topics I find interesting. I’ve also been following the disaster that is American politics. Every bit of it makes me sad and angry. I’m disappointed in so many ways that things are as they are, and hope that it rights itself sooner rather than later. I’ve also been reading books and taking on new and challenging, well, challenges. For instance, I finally started the meditation challenge that I’ve been putting off for the better part of nine months. I have to meditate for ten minutes each day, for 30 days. It’s been rather difficult, but that’s mostly due to my own anxiety and insecurity. I’ve also been doing a yoga challenge, since I’ve not had as much time to devote to going to yoga classes as I’d like. Every day I do X amount of sun salutations, increasing throughout the month. It’s been good for the most part, as I do the yoga and then the meditation. The issue is that if I do not do it in the morning when I wake up, I end up falling asleep during the meditation. I’m a very early riser, so trying to meditate in the evening before bed, is not practical. I’ve since gone back to my morning routine.

Since I’ve been doing some reading and listening to audiobooks, my friend recommended an unconventional “self-help” book that I loved based solely on the title. The Subtle Art of not Giving a F*ck has ultimately changed the way I see my quest and how I will pursue it further. It resonated with me so much that I, in fact, have started listening to it a second time. I listened to the entire book in one day. There are parts of it that resonate a little more strongly than others, obviously, but it was truly refreshing to hear someone say that sometimes, life fucking sucks, and that’s ok.

Not only does life sometimes suck a whole lot, and not only is that ok, but feeling crappy about things is sometimes ok too. Too often these writers gloss over the fact that we are humans and we grow from adversity and suffering. If we do not allow ourselves to experience these negatives to the fullest, we will never achieve the kind of happiness we so desperately seek. And not only that, but if we “seek” it with such drive and ferocity, we are unlikely to actually attain what we’re looking for. It’s kind of like that old adage about finding your keys when you stop looking for them, or they’re in the last place you look (because who would keep looking after they found them?). You find them because you’re both fucking over it and give up, or you come to grips with the fact that you’ve looked everywhere and you just might have to walk. That’s when they pop up and usually in a place that you’ve already inspected.

The point is this: Stop looking so damn hard for happiness. And furthermore, once you’ve stopped looking so intently for a moving target, look deeper at the metric by which you measure your happiness, and with some perspective shifting, you may actually come to see you’re closer than you thought.

For instance, I’ve been feeling rather unhappy at my job. Yes, there are really great aspects about it, but I am still left feeling like I want to move on. I’ve got incredible flexibility and almost zero oversight by my bosses. I’ve got a practically nonexistent dress code, and long stretches in which I stare blankly at my computer screen while listening to music, or in this case, audiobooks, and surfing the internet. The people I work with are pretty exceptional and we typically work well together. There’s nobody I particularly dislike, which is incredibly rare. Yet, there’s a sense of unease and malaise.

Part of it is because, while extremely stressful at times, it’s not challenging. I do not feel as though I am solving real problems, but rather doing busy work and nothing of real consequence. The other problem is that the corporate culture is that of “Old Boy’s Club”, where many people have been here for decades and the vast majority of them are middle-aged white men. There are few women in positions of authority, and virtually none of them are in the department where I reside. I’m the only woman in my department in this city. So, it is exceptionally difficult for me to move up within my department, because there are few opportunities and there’s this idea that women are not meant for this department, due to the nature of the work. I do not work outside in the warehouse, but they are the folks I support in my position.

And I recognize, after listening to this most recent book, that I carry with me a bit of entitlement. I am well educated, but I am in basically the same position I’ve been in for more than the last decade. Granted I’m making a slightly larger salary and have a few more responsibilities, the functions are essentially the same. This frustrates me. I feel entitled to a better role, people taking me more seriously than they do, and ultimately Master’s level compensation for my time. I also am keenly aware that I rock at doing my job. I know that and have been told that time and again. But I don’t feel as though I’m valued beyond lip service. I am not given truly important responsibilities or compensated to an amount that I feel I should be. This is pure entitlement. I feel like I spent so much time and an ungodly amount of money on my education, I should be doing more for myself. And of course, my line of work and my education are completely dissimilar. Getting into my field has proven to be impossible through conventional means, and truthfully, I’ve given up on that battle.

Instead, I’ve allowed myself to become bitter, entitled and indignant. This has gotten to the point in which I would rather bitch about my lack of opportunities than to find something more aligned with my values. I half-heartedly started a business with a friend, but got so discouraged because she wasn’t nearly as motivated as I was. She started out saying she was motivated, but when the time came, her values and mine just don’t seem to line up. That doesn’t mean she’s wrong or to blame, we just don’t seem to be on the same page. She’s got an extremely full plate, and I feel like I perhaps pushed her into this venture a bit too fast for her comfort. And I’m sorry and wrong for overstepping that boundary. I certainly can’t be mad at her for not wanting to just jump in with both feet into a dream that she might not necessarily share.

So I feel stuck. I feel stuck as the breadwinner of my household, unable and unwilling to make changes because of fear and financial stress. And what’s worse is that I’ve not been taking responsibility for those feelings until now. I’ve been blaming the job market, my husband being lazy, my friend not being motivated “enough”, and many more excuses. I’ve been an entitled ass. That’s a tough pill to swallow. I hate being wrong, and more importantly, I hate being unaware of my truth (my truth being the reality of my feelings and behaviors, and how I allow myself to interact with those around me). What’s worse is that aside from being painfully unaware of reality, I’ve also been kind of a dick to myself, my friends, and my family.

Now the options in front of me are as follows 1) keep doing the same thing, while knowing the truth, 2) make small, but meaningful changes to right the ship, or 3) just say fuck it and jump based on my newfound understanding of things. This is what I have been marinating on since yesterday and still have not come to a resolution. Part of me desperately wants each of those options, for conflicting reasons. So we shall see what I come up with.

Thanks for reading this long ass post. J

Meditation and me

I have always had a sordid relationship with meditation. I’ve had an extremely difficult time quieting my mind, pretty much my whole life. I am a very analytical person, and extremely sensitive to the world around me. This makes for difficult meditation sessions.

I’m currently taking some classes for a certification, and at some point we are asked to do a 30 day meditation “challenge”. It’s really just doing it for 30 straight days, for a minimum of 10 minutes. I’ve had several months to complete this task, but have procrastinated in beginning. I want to do it, but I know that it will be very challenging to me because my brain is pretty much a blender at all times. Stopping that swirling mess and quieting the motor, even for 10 minutes is not the easiest of things. It requires a lot of self-determination and lately, I’ve just simply been too distractible to even begin.

When I do decide that I’m going to do this thing that is looming over me, I’ll blog about my progress and lack thereof. I just know that a big part of my trepidation is focusing, even for 10 minutes, on something other than things I need to do…

As always, thanks for reading and I’ll be back soon!

Meltdowns

Meltdowns come in a variety of forms and permutations. Children have them because they cannot articulate their needs in appropriate ways. Teens and young adults have them because they’re riddled with confusing hormones and conflicting needs. We adults have them too. In my case, it was because there were a million little things that build up over time. Eventually I get to the breaking point and I lose my shit. I end up yelling and crying, usually at my husband. Sometimes he’s the catalyst, and sometimes he isn’t, but more often than not he’s the target of the explosion.

I’ve gotten a lot better as I’ve gotten older. My meltdowns used to be MUCH worse for the person that ended up getting the full force of my wrath. What’s worse is that I used to be a “stuffer”. I’d stuff my feelings down and swallow them until there was just no room left inside me to stuff another feeling, until I exploded over someone. Too many times my roommate or boyfriend would be the sad soul to get the brunt of it. However, in many cases my then-boyfriend was the cause of much of my frustration.

These days my meltdowns are fewer and less devastating to both me and the other person. I’ve learned to try and communicate my feelings about situations as they arise and in a more constructive manner. Of course, we are all human, and I’m certainly not perfect. I’m a work in progress just as any other. So when I say I had a pretty gnarly meltdown yesterday, trust me, it was not pretty.

I’ve been harboring some feelings in the hopes that they would somehow subside, or that I could mentally deal with them and move on. Unfortunately, that just hasn’t been the case. Instead, there have just been more and more things to pile up on top of the heap. Of course the final straw was something that really shouldn’t have been as big as it was, but once I started yelling, it was all over.

Dinner was that final straw.

I was hungry, tired, frustrated, and still had not dealt with some underlying feelings and when I tried to talk about it, I got some arguing back and that was it. But really, what made me snap was about dinner.

So obviously, I’ve got a lot to work on as days go on. It was good that I was finally able to speak my piece though, albeit loudly with some tears. I feel a little lighter and that we can go forward from where we have been spinning. I don’t know that my husband feels exactly the same way, but I know he was able to say how he’s been feeling about certain things, and I hope we’ve come to a space of understanding.

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