Tag: right action

Evolution

Hello and welcome back to whatever this blog has morphed into… musings really, I think. I set out over a decade ago after becoming inspired by a book I read on happiness. I gave myself tasks and goals (very Type A of me) to achieve everyday happiness. And for a long time, it worked, as you can read if so inclined, by my studious documentation of that project.

Over time, that little project changed a little, into sort of another project. And that challenge lead into a different thing, which led to a bizarre “confessional” of sorts, and now to this phase… where I seemingly wax poetic about something that has been on my mind.

As I have aged over the years, my focuses have changed too. My voice in writing, as well as my priorities in my life have changed distinctly. In the time that I’ve been hosting this blog, I’ve become a parent, gotten divorced and remarried (possibly more than once), and I’ve moved more times than I can recall at this moment. I’ve fairly recently uprooted my life and took my kiddo across the country to try something else, because what I was doing in our hometown simply wasn’t working for us anymore. We’ve grown as individuals and as a pair, me and the kid. We’ve gained a whole new support system in our new/old city, and lost a tremendous amount in these subsequent, turbulent years.

Which brings me to today’s topic: evolution. Not the controversial (for reasons I cannot begin to fathom) Evolution (read: dinosaurs, primates, humans, planet, and cosmos shit), but evolution, as we grow and change as people, parents, partners, and stewards of our lives. While I jokingly say to those close to me, I’ve been the same cynical bitch you’ve all come to know and love, that’s not exactly true. Yes, a great deal of my personality has not changed one bit since childhood- shakes fist at trauma– there are huge parts of me that HAVE evolved into someone/something else.

I’ve recognized that events in my life have caused me to change, both as a person unto myself and as a person in the world. Past experiences have formed how I behave in certain situations, whether healthy or unhealthy. A number of them are trauma responses that I’ve picked up to carve the path of least resistance for myself or others. However some of this stuff just comes with age, and my priorities being different than they were when I was 30.

My relationships with people have changed significantly too. My close friends and I aren’t playing sports like we used to, injuries and having jobs that start early in the mornings being things. Partnerships have evolved. The days of teenage infatuation have moved toward a deep sense of knowing another person on a deeper level. I’m not as afraid of things in relationships either, like the other person getting distracted or periods away from one another.

I recently saw one of my best friends and it was like nothing had changed. We caught up, laughed, hugged… we’ve not seen each other in 6 months. We don’t talk as often as we’d like, but it’s ok. Life is hectic and we are so solid in our friendship, we know that we are friends for life. There’s so much peace in knowing who your people are and that they’re solid. It’s taken a loooooong time, and a whole lot of shitty friends seeing themselves out of my life for this to happen. I used to be the type of person that would try to keep people in my life, even if they were toxic, because I was afraid of being alone. I don’t have the patience for that any longer. It’s just not who I am.

Patience is another thing that has evolved. I have infinitely more patience for certain things, like kids. But I’ll be damned if I waste a single second that doesn’t serve me or my higher self. If it’s a drain, I’m OUT. This goes for people, social situations, jobs, all of it. I can’t tolerate nonsense anymore. If Covid has taught me anything, it’s that life is too short for bullshit and I refuse to waste a single moment more on it. I’ve wasted far too much of my life catering to people and things that are soul sucking. Never again.

This admission in itself, is proof positive that I’ve evolved. In a former life, I’d have held on for dear life to shit that was actively destroying me. I lost everything because it, repeatedly. I lost myself. I lost my homes, car, stability, security, everything. I was empty and lost. Never again.

I can say with utmost certainty that it’s never too late to evolve, change, grow, and throw away the things that make you feel hollow, alone, or sad. Choose happy and work toward that every single day.

Thanks for reading.

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Shadows

The work that is the hardest, lingers in the darkness. The pieces we must heal the most, are those who live in the shadows. These are the most difficult, because they are the most wounded parts of us: the trauma, the grief, the sorrows. We don’t want to uncover these sadnesses because they are painful, and many times they are easier left buried in the earth, never seeing the light of day.

However, in healing these broken bits, we find the wholeness of our true selves. For many of us, this is a lifelong endeavor. But guiding out the shards, leads to a lightness many of us have not felt in ages (if ever).

There is hard work in the shadows. Many tears and old wounds being laced open. Is it worth it? I can’t speak for others, but I can say this work is meaningful. It’s certainly not easy, however rewarding.

As longtime readers know, I’m on a quest to always seek into myself and I have done much shadow work. I’m never done. There are always old hurts to uncover, antiquated trauma responses that no longer serve a purpose. I uncover them often and I say their names, such as loneliness, abandonment, fear, and many, many more. By bringing them and their names to the surface, I’m able to process them, with all the tools I have now, instead of what I didn’t have when I buried them. It doesn’t make it easy. It just makes it real.

Living in this crazy, unrelenting, uncertain time makes everything amplified. Old habits, ways of thinking, responses, etc that simply have no place in my current story just make everything more complicated and situations that arise, muddier. Am I really feeling this way, or is it fear? Is this situation what I think, or am I running/pushing away? Sometimes it’s just so damn hard to know. There’s just too much noise to find the song. But what do I do? I’m still trying to figure that out, because I’m as guilty as anyone of doing self destructive things to cover pain or ignore it. But all I can do is try my best today, and tomorrow, and the next day, right? It’s all anyone can do. The best we can with what we have at the time.

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Too much

For the last couple of weeks, watching the world unfold has been an effort in trying to keep myself upright. I have been on the verge of collapse as Russian troops invaded Ukraine.

There have been countless days where I’ve sobbed uncontrollably as my heart shattered for people I will never meet. From places I’ll never get to visit. I’ve had this experience many times in my life. But for some reason, this hits me in the core.

It’s likely, of the last several decades, I’ve said that the sadness is just too much to take it all in hundreds of times. Today, I’m feeling those words in my marrow. for the last two solid years, I’ve been thinking it regularly, but saying it rarely. Today, I break that silence and acknowledge that my heart is sawdust for the people of Ukraine, and other sufferings that are equally unspeakable. My heart has been ground to fine powder for those sufferings.

It’s difficult to go on with daily life, when life has been uprooted and pulverized. By sickness, pain, loss, isolation, abuses, murders in broad daylight, shootings, all of the tragedies we’ve collectively experienced for TWO SOLID YEARS. Everyone on this earth is in pain, whether they know it or not.

Once upon a time, writing was my safe haven, my outlet, and my muse. Today it feel heavy and pointless. As though my words are meaningless. I have nothing to say that hasn’t been said by someone else, more eloquently, to a larger crowd. What do I have to add to the dialogue? To contribute to the narrative? Very little, in my estimation. However, staying silent does not allow me to feel whole, so I write today. Not for those that are “out there” suffering. But for the one “in here”.

It’s an odd feeling writing to a page about lasting happiness. It’s so elusive. Do I feel “happier” than I did many years ago when this page began? Without a doubt. I’ve grown so much, learned more things than I could ever recall, read a myriad of books, researched the research of happiness and put practice into my quest for more tangible joy in my everyday life. However, in that same breath, I find it impossible to be “happy” while so many people are in pain. It’s so hard to go on with our “regular lives”, whatever that even means now, while others have lost everything. To not acknowledge the struggle, would 1) be doing a disservice to those who are in pain, and 2) make me an asshole. I’m unwilling to allow either of those things. Not on my watch.

I have no rosy closing to this entry. I have nothing but love in the space my heart once was, for those that need love right now. I know I’m not alone in this feeling of hopelessness, and I genuinely hope that we all make it.

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2021, in retrospect

As yet another year closes, I feel compelled to write. I have had brief passing thoughts, but otherwise no desire to do much writing this year, much like last year. Everyone is going through their own experiences and quite simply, I have too. I haven’t felt as though my shaking voice was necessary in the larger conversation. Like virtually everyone else, I’m just trying to get through this period of time with my family, with the fewest scars possible.

Obviously we are all scarred these days. Nobody that has made it through these last two years has come out unscathed, unless you’re a billionaire with infinite resources. Then, you’ve made out pretty well. However, I don’t believe they haven’t also experienced tragedies in private. We often only see the curated versions of life and not the daily grind. The reality of the human experience is that some days you’re the mortar, and others, the pestle. Regardless, it is a grind.

Today, being the winter solstice, I felt compelled to not only write about the past, but also to look toward the future. Last night was the shortest day of the year and from here until summer, the days will lengthen and the darkness shorten. I feel like that is quite metaphorical. While we still have so far to go in the light/dark balancing act that is the seasonal changes, I’m encouraged that we will soon be letting more light in, after so much darkness.

What has been so crucial for me to remember, as someone who has had lifelong depression, anxiety, and Seasonal Effective Disorder (SAD), there is ALWAYS something to be grateful for. My family has been a constant reminder of this, even if they’ve also been a source of stress during these months of a whole lot of “togetherness” due to Covid. I wouldn’t want to be “stuck” with any other humans. Even at the most panicked and stressed times, I’ve turned my internal negativity toward gratitude. It has helped me appreciate the small wins, and allowed me the opportunity to get closer to my family. We’ve spent months having hard conversations so we can all grow and evolve into who we are becoming. It’s been quite apparent in all my household members, but also close friends. Despite the dumpster fires so commonplace in society, we are still growing and BECOMING. It’s a beautiful thing. I’m truly grateful for the chance to see those around me digging deep and working through the things that need to be worked through.

None of this is easy, even in the best of times. But during a pandemic of epic proportions, politically divided nations, shortages, wars, unimaginable losses, and more that we likely will never even know- there is always something to be grateful for. Even if it is just another sunrise, or making it through another trying day. Breathing, a smile, a furry friend, a song, anything. There have been many days where I’ve had to think REALLLLLLLY hard about what has gotten me through the day. But we have to find it. We have to. Some days, it’s the only thing we have to hold onto. And that’s ok. They can’t all be winners. Some days are there to teach us something: balance, humility, boundaries, patience, etc.

These things are not easy lessons and sometimes, they’re the hardest lessons of our lives. But in closing, I implore you, find the good in each day. Even if on the surface, it was the absolute worst. There is always something to appreciate and in those hard days, often a lesson. But also recognize that sometimes, the lesson isn’t ours, but we are the catalyst for change in someone else’s life. The other thing I ask of anyone reading this is to hold your loved ones close. Tomorrow is never promised. That has been a glaring lesson worldwide over the last two years. Hold your loves close. And Happy New Year

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Passion

I’ve recently watched a couple of shows on the ‘flix the inspired this entry. As any of my longtime readers can attest, I’ve been relatively consistent in writing, until a little over a year ago. There have been numerous times since the inception of this blog, however, as life tends to have other plans for me sometimes. I have not, though, ever gone through such a long steak without writing. It’s something I’ve always done with ease and general excitement. It has always been something I’ve wanted to earn a living at. There’s just something about the written word… anyway.

These two shows (one a dessert competition, and the other a beauty industry completion) demonstrate people with incredible passion and skill at their crafts. Their drive and tenacity are unparalleled. Their motivation to learn, grow, and hone their techniques and ranges are just marvelous. And because humans are very much selfish creatures, I watch this and circle back to myself at some point.

What is my passion? What can I not live without? What gets me amped up?

Throughout my life, even the things that have given me the greatest joys, have eventually become stale. Very few things keep my attention for long, let alone become something I’m passionate about. They become too cumbersome, too distracting, too much drama, too much work. They lose their shine, and I get bogged down. There have only been a couple things to genuinely keep me coming back (not without the afore mentioned periods of drag, of course), for years. One of them has always been writing.

However, lately, I’ve realized that I’ve lost my spark for even writing. I also realized that I no longer have anything I’d consider a “hobby”. There’s truly nothing that I’m currently passionate about enough to even want to entertain.

Covid has been wearing on me, more than I’d like to admit, I’m sure. But I’ve been isolated and busy for years before. I was chronically busy with a full time job and way beyond full time school. However, I’ve never felt this level of malaise before, especially toward writing. Even writing this right now, even with inspiration striking, this feels a bit like a chore. I know I’m not the only one. I didn’t learn a skill, like baking bread or a language during lockdowns. I worked full time throughout much of the last 1.5 years, and it’s been entirely from home. Plus I’ve been a full time parent, juggling distance learning with the kids, and a full time partner to boot. So I just have been feeling heavy.

If you add in racial injustice and the protests that has been spurring for more than a year now, stemming from the cities in which I live, plus unimaginable tragedy from all corners of the globe- wars, natural and unnatural disasters, climate change, isolation, deaths, and more. It’s just too much to take in. It’s no wonder I’ve lost whatever spark I once had, no wonder I feel like a zombie sometimes. It’s all been exhausting.

With the new, worse outlook with Covid, I don’t know… it all seems rather hopeless. It’s absolutely no wonder for me, and countless others, that discovering our passions during the pandemic of the century hasn’t been too of mind. It’s been barely more than an effort in survival for many of us. The thing that I HAVE discovered is that despite losing much of the vibrancy of life, much of the colors and textures that make life passion-filled, I’m not alone and someday it’ll get better. Regardless, I’ve also deepened my relationship with myself, with my family, and the kids. It’s not “my passion”, but it’s been a unique opportunity that I wouldn’t have otherwise had.

I have discovered a deep understanding and an even deeper love for those around me. My life.

This isn’t to say I’m not fearful about Covid and additional unrest in my area, and worldwide. Because those are very real feelings, with good reason. People have proven to suck, a whole bunch. But I also believe that individuals can and are the most resilient, dedicated, and truly inspiring creatures on earth.

Stay strong, friends.

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