Category Archives: Self-Care

Something Good.

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I think I might have already mentioned this, but when I am feeling bad, I will often ask Eric to “tell me something good.”  When I need something to hang on to, to make me feel better, something to show me that it’s not all bad.  When I am in that dark hole, way down at the bottom, and the mean things with teeth are down there with me–“tell me something good.”

Picture by Cubby

He’s really good at it, because even when all he can think of is “I love you,” it totally works.  I mean, how great is it that the person that you picked and who said “yes” eighteen years ago, and knows you better than anyone, knows all the embarrassing and ugly stuff, continues to love you?  He usually is able to give me a whole list when I ask him, followed by a hug and “what can I do for you, how can I make you feel better?”

But wait–this isn’t a post about how great Eric is, even though that’s true.  This post is about a new Monday feature I’m starting today on this blog: Something Good.  I like the idea of gratitude generating joy, and the opportunity my gratitude has to spread joy when I share the good things.

Here’s today’s list:

  • Monday Morning Yoga. For the past four and a half years, I have been going to a 6:30 a.m. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning yoga class.  The teachers have remained the same, and there are two other people, along with a rotating cast of about 10-15 others, who have also attended for all that time.  It is a constant comfort, while it continues to challenge me to keep changing and evolving.  These classes were the beginnings of my yoga practice, and I am so grateful.
  • My Dogs. I promise I won’t list them every week, but I totally could.  These furry boys are at the center of my life, and live right in the middle of my heart.  And Obi might be physically gone, but he is still with me, with us.
  • Kind Over Matter.  This is on of my favorite websites.  It is a collection of daily goodness that comforts and inspires me.  There was a guest post today, “Be the Rabbit” that was so great, made me think of my dogs and helped me to think of another strategy for taking better care of myself.  “Kind Over Matter is a place that is filled with kindness, inspiration, creativity, truth, gentleness & love.” Amen.
  • Blogtoberfest. This event challenges bloggers to post to their blog every day in October.  It was perfect timing for me, because I had just started this blog, and committing to daily posts gave me the discipline and inspiration to really get this thing off the ground.  I might have already faltered if not for Blogtoberfest, but with it, I feel settled and connected to this practice, and can already see it’s value, shared and internalized.
  • Writing This Blog. Writing publicly and daily is really good writing practice, and as I have mentioned before, people like Malcolm Gladwell (who wrote Outliers: The Story of Success) would argue that it takes some 10,000 hours of dedication to a craft or profession to become an “expert,” so the more practice, the better.

And also, a few times in the past weeks, as I have been writing a post, a line emerges that shifts things for me.  Yesterday, it was this one: “it’s actually my heart that is starving and this is not going to feed it, never going to satisfy that hunger no matter how much I eat.”  Holy Wow.  It feels like there’s this deep wisdom bubbling up, and this practice gives it space, power, a voice.

  • A moment of gratitude from one of my favorite movies, Joe Vs. the Volcano: “Dear God, whose name I do not know – thank you for my life. I forgot how big… thank you. Thank you for my life.”
  • Your turn: tell me something good.

Now you see it. Now you don’t.

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I met a friend for coffee yesterday afternoon, and we got to talking about the difference between awareness and mindfulness.  I was explaining how I am more aware now, can see myself as I start to enact old habits, practice old patterns, specifically of numbing out or perfection, but most of the time, I am unable to stop myself.  Instead, I watch it happen, the same way it has thousands of times before.

For example, I make the chocolate zucchini bread with an awareness that I typically can’t eat it like a “normal” person, that I have trouble stopping because the more I can eat, the more numb I feel.  I feel bad and want the bad to go away, and this works.

But I make promises to myself that this time will be different, I will control myself, I will “be good,” but get into a heated argument with the one that needs the zucchini bread, as much of it as I can stand to stuff in.  It needs to feel better, now, and this is how to make that happen, so “you” aren’t going to stop me–I am doing this.

This is the point where my awareness–awareness of the danger, my understanding of the ineffectiveness of this strategy, the knowledge of how ashamed I’ll feel when it’s over, that it won’t actually help in the long run, that it’s actually my heart that is starving and this is not going to feed it, never going to satisfy that hunger no matter how much I eat–slips away. 

The next thing I know, I’ve eaten two huge pieces and I feel sick to my stomach.  It’s like when you get in your car to go to work, aware that you are getting in your car to go to work, and next thing you know, you are there, and have no memory of the drive–complete mindlessness.

My friend and I also talked about how sometimes it is like watching a movie of ourselves doing the thing.  There’s no moment when we aren’t aware, we see all of it, but still, we do like we always do.

This can be incredibly frustrating and discouraging.  And yet, there are so many reminders that this is how it happens, and that’s okay, that it’s worth continuing to try.

“True life is lived when tiny changes occur.”
— Leo Tolstoy

It is the “Half Step that Will Change Your Life.”

“Pause and Deepen Your Attention.”

image via Demetri Martin in 'This Is a Book'

This afternoon, rather than going to City Park to walk the dogs, Eric and I drove up to Mount Margaret, one of our favorite places. I relaxed, breathed, heard and felt the wind, took many steps, and let go. This is what it means. You practice, you keep showing up, you stop “smashing yourself to bits” when you see yourself doing the same old things, instead you love the suffering, you accept and lean in, and you promise to keep watching, being aware, for as long as it takes.

  • What are you attempting to balance? What are you trying to break?