Busy Be Gone

Posted May 28, 2012

Brene´ Brown recently posted this on her Facebook page: “It’s so easy to buy into the idea that if we stay busy enough the truth of our lives won’t catch up with us. When they start having 12-step meetings for busy-aholics, they’ll need to rent out football stadiums.” This clearly resonated with people. 1,183 people liked it and 80 people commented. I replied, “Great idea, but I might be too busy to go.”

I love her writing, but sometimes Brene´ uses such big concepts, I’m not 100% sure what she means. I definitely relate to the part about busyness, but I’m not positive what it means about the truth of our lives catching up with us. Maybe I’ll figure it out as I’m writing. Maybe it will be a separate piece.

In my post, The Grass Always Grows Where You Water It, I wrote: “It’s May 1st, and I usually would have already had my monthly goals mapped out in my mind (and on paper). But not this month. I’ve been busy living, so that’s a good thing!” I also added that I wasn’t even worried about not having any formal goals. Well, I lied. I’ve been scared out of my mind. I’ve been doing a lot of not being busy, and I wonder if I’ll turn into some sort of sluggish sloth! What if I never set another goal again?

Busy has always been a good thing in my family. It means you’re being productive. My family is of German descent, and I think it’s a cultural thing. During weekly Sunday phone calls, my mother cheerily told me to “Have a productive day.” In talking with another woman of German heritage, she said her mother said exactly the same thing! She also told me about a German word, sitzfleish. It literally means the virtual flesh that exists between one’s behind and the chair. Figuratively, it refers to the ability to persist in one’s work, the patience that can endure anything, and the idea that work is more important than play.

I’ve certainly had a lot of sitzfleish in my life. I’ve prided myself on being able to plow through work and sit there until the job is done. And I’m not knocking the value of being able to keep your butt on the chair. It’s a skill that has served me well over the years, especially spending oodles of study time earning a doctorate and pounding out four books.

For me, busy has been fun. It has often meant being fully focused and engaged, in a state of creative flow.

My problem is that I take it too far. I don’t know when to stop, take a break, get up from the computer, walk around, stretch, move, breathe. Can you have too much creative flow? Sometimes I think so. I can get so immersed in what I’m doing that I forget to eat—and that’s saying something! (Maybe there’s a book in there…Write Yourself Thin.)

Ethan Nichtern, a popular Buddhist teacher, talks about the Tibetan concept of coemergence. He defines it as “the ability of any particular phenomenon or experience to manifest as either wisdom or confusion, helpful or harmful, a weapon or a prison. So busy is not good or bad, it’s what we do with it.

I’ve never been good at finding balance in my life. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl. Greg teases me about it all the time. For example, when I want to change the thermostat in the house (and being a middle-aged woman that is about every five minutes), I ask him, “Are you hot or are you freezing?”

If there’s one good thing that has come from my chronic pain, it’s that it’s making me more mindful of my work habits. I simply can’t work for as long as I used to. But I’m still fighting that fact. I usually don’t notice I’ve worked too long until my body screams at me.

Hmmm, I’m sensing a new goal…start listening for the tiny whispers.

***

We have a great covered patio, and I think I’ve sat outside more this month than in all the months we’ve lived here combined (about 5 years). I’ve been watching birds build nests, listening to them sing, and feeling the breezes blow. I’ve enjoyed sharing this time with Greg, my college-age son who has been home more, and of course, Lily and Larry. As I’m sitting here finishing this, I see 7 Goldfinches, an Indigo Bunting, two Cardinals, a Red-bellied Woodpecker, and two Wrens who live in the birdhouse you’ll see pictured below. I’ve named them Henry and Harriet. They seem like a great couple! I wonder if they’ve done much decorating in their house…

There’s no place like home.

Windy day!

: Trying to get Lily and Larry to pose.

We’ve had enough of this!

Worthy

Posted May 14, 2012

Filed under Taking Risks, Writing

This is the essay I wrote for the MORE model search, which I wrote about here. The judging was based 50% on a brief (there was a strict word count) essay answering the question, “What makes you feel beautiful, inside and out?” and 50% on a photo of yourself. I used the picture to the left. At the time I entered, I couldn’t post the essay on this blog. Well, I didn’t win, but I’m still glad I entered. In case you didn’t click over to MORE’s site before, here’s what I wrote.

The truth is, I don’t always feel beautiful. I think it goes back to growing up painfully shy. I still remember one horrible day in school when a teacher announced to the class that I was the quietest student he’d ever taught. Everyone turned around to look at me, as if I was some kind of freak. I felt blood rush to my face and my heart raced. I hated myself for being so reserved. Despite this (or perhaps, because of), I went on to become a psychologist and wrote three books on shyness and social anxiety. Although I enjoy writing and helping others, I still find promoting my work challenging. The strange thing is, throughout all of this, I’ve enjoyed a love affair with the camera. It treats me well. And almost magically, seeing myself in a photo gives me objectivity. I can view myself through a lens of compassion, and am better able to tune out the pesky gremlins in my head that tell me I’m not good enough. But it’s still not easy—this feeling beautiful stuff—and I’ve learned to be okay with that. “Feeling beautiful” comes and goes, because feelings come and go. What matters most is believing I am worthy. Worthiness doesn’t have to be earned; it just is. To me, worthy means speaking my truth, owning my power, and taking risks. And you know what? That painfully shy girl, who tried so hard to remain under the radar, is no longer afraid to tell her story. Sometimes, the story line even reads, “Hey, I’m beautiful.”

Because You Gave Me a Name

Posted May 12, 2012

Filed under Parenting

Anyone who has been following this blog knows I’m obsessed with all things Kelly Rae Roberts. I don’t think she’ll mind me posting this Mother’s Day card because I’m always telling people to visit her blog and buy her inspiring, soulful artwork! For local readers, Southbank Gifts carries many of her things. I actually bought this card for my mom, but ended up not giving it to her because I couldn’t part with it (I should have bought two). You probably won’t be able to read the words, so I’ll repeat them below.

Card by Kelly Rae Roberts

because you held

hope for my life

even before I was born.

because you gave me a name,

and a beginning to a

beautiful life journey.

because you taught me that

kindness really does matter.

Thank you, Mom, for all of the above. I couldn’t have said it better.

Ode to a Third Shift Messiah

Posted May 3, 2012

Filed under Poems, Writing

(We’re focusing on poetry in my writing class this week. I haven’t written anything share-worthy yet, so I thought I’d post this treasured poem written by my brother and given to me in July, 1988. I was in graduate school and just starting out as a therapist.)

Ode to a Third Shift Messiah*

On Her Way to Work

*Therapist for Broken Revolutionaries

Breathe in

taste the deep dust,

Breathe out

feel a need.

Look in a mirror

see a guardian of dignity,

Look again

see a savior of pride.

Accept this power.

Go out to a field,

hold fast to your courage.

Let your eyes preach the gospel,

let your words work great miracles.

Be a prayer.

As ashen arrivals ride down from the sky,

and songs of descending bond with the night.

Photo credit: Werner Kunz, via Flickr, Creative Commons

The Faucet

Posted May 2, 2012

Filed under Writing

photo by Barney Craggs, Flickr CC

Here is my response to another writing prompt from Alchemy: The Art and Craft of Writing (the really cool writing class I’m taking), along with a few comments from participants in the class.

My mind is like…

My mind is like a faucet. I think I’ve turned it off, but no sooner do I get comfy on the couch to watch The Good Wife do I hear the drip, drip, drip of tiny little thoughts that drive me crazy. I should be doing this, or that…It doesn’t matter what. I may as well get up because my thoughts won’t let me rest. Sometimes the faucet doesn’t simply drip, it sprays in all directions. I’m flooded with ideas and feelings. I experience an urgency to write, to create, to make meaning of all that’s pouring out. But the water is getting things wet. Things that aren’t supposed to get wet. I need a paper towel. I feel pressure. Time pressure. Other yet unnamed pressures. I can’t follow each idea, explore each feeling. I have to pick and choose. I hate that. I can’t let water get all over the place. Can I?

Comment: There’s something interesting about the drip turning into a forceful flow – neither of which can be ignored.

Comment: I think water all over the place, the chaos of that, is something you should pursue. I sometimes write best, or get the best ideas, when I am totally on edge.

I’m curious, what’s your mind like?

Here’s a photo Greg took of water dripping off our deck. I like how the light reflects through the droplet.

The Grass Grows Where You Water It

Posted May 1, 2012

Filed under Goals, Meditation/Mindfulness

I saw this saying, “The grass grows where you water it,” and it speaks to how I’m feeling today.

It’s May 1st, and I usually would have already had my monthly goals mapped out in my mind (and on paper). But not this month. I’ve been busy living, so that’s a good thing! I’m loving my writing class, and I’ve chosen to spend my extra time soaking up all that goodness. I also went on a blogging binge last week and posted something Monday through Friday. Whew!

But (I know, there shouldn’t always be a but)…I’m having trouble focusing on more than one thing at a time. In February, I did great when I followed Sharon Salzberg’s 28-day meditation challenge. In March, I focused more on my physical health, managing my chronic pain, and have made some significant diet changes (you know, I reluctantly joined the free-range chicken/organic produce/supplement-popping club). In April, I immersed myself in the Alchemy writing class. In the meantime, I’ve let the meditation slide, although I’m managing to keep the dietary changes intact. I’ve found that when I focus my attention, I’m quite capable of making changes in my life. Yet I have trouble maintaining the changes, especially while trying to introduce new things, as well.

photo by Omega Man, Flickr CC

Does anyone know how to keep everything going? I think I need one of those really long soaker hoses, so I can keep everything watered at once.

Although I don’t have my May goals to share with you, I want to tell you this. I’m being much more self-compassionate. I sensed it and felt it, but I wanted proof. I retook the self-compassion test and compared it to the results when I began this project (you can find the test here). My scores show I’ve made significant strides in each of the areas measured. I’m really grateful and excited about that!

I’m not even too worried about not having any formal goals this month. I’ll probably start meditating again, because as Sharon Salzberg says, you can always begin again. I don’t even feel guilty (HUGE change) for not meditating. That’s just the way it’s happened. I’ll keep working on my health and exploring ways to manage my pain. I’ll definitely keep writing. And a huge thank you to everyone who keeps reading The Self-Compassion Project. Happy May Day!