Dare I say it?
Given all my talk about, my belief in, authenticity, I have to.
I have officially hit the "I'm-tired-of-handling-it" phase.
That's where I am.
That's all I can be right now.
This too shall pass.
Oct 11, 2011
Sep 29, 2011
midstream reflection of a renovation
Planned or not, renovations sure present an interesting metaphor with which to perceive and work through our own internal journey of change or transition.
Discovery:
what's really going on below?
Clearing the Decks:
getting ready for the work to be done.
Letting Go:
cleaning out what is no longer useful ...and keeping what is.
Midstream Reflection: taking time to notice where I have landed.
Wherever you are along your transitional journey, Breathe Big and know you're not alone.
Linda
Discovery:
what's really going on below?
Clearing the Decks:
getting ready for the work to be done.
Letting Go:
cleaning out what is no longer useful ...and keeping what is.
Midstream Reflection: taking time to notice where I have landed.
- Appreciation (it's still standing...and so am I).
- Anticipating the next step which will bring different materials and support.
- Acknowledging the guiding force and trust I put into my underlying intentions and vision
Shivers of excitement emerge as my body-mind-spirit begins to make the move from fear and overwhelm to trust and possibility. Silver lining's and gifts begin to surface out of the chaos and rubble.
Wherever you are along your transitional journey, Breathe Big and know you're not alone.
Linda
Sep 21, 2011
another layer
The sound of my typing blends with the sound of my floor being ripped up.
What a journey the past two weeks have been! Though there are still many unknown's and a number of fears, I am feeling better - compared to Monday.
Monday the worker didn't show up. Monday I couldn't get a hold of him to find out why. Monday all the stress came crashing down on my head and weighed very heavy. How could I have been so proud of myself regarding how I was handling things and now suddenly I find it all too much?
After some pondering, some paddling, some sleep...I've got a hunch as to what might be going on. Clearly we're dealing with different layers and time lines when we're dealing with loss and grief.
When my brother died I think I went into logistic mode. There's so much to do, including supporting family members and his friends. I felt strange but not like how I would have imagined I'd feel at such a huge loss. It seemed buried or far away some how. Seven months later (last weekend) I'm in Toronto and suddenly I feel a wave of sadness. It hit me with no warning:
This was Peter's city.
I'll never see him again here.
I'll never see him again period.
A similar pattern seems to be showing up with this sudden unexpected (nor desired) renovation. You keep it together in order to get what needs to be done, done. Contacting and meeting with the various people who can advise you, choosing the various folks to do the work, figuring out how the heck you're going to pay for it, and packing and moving and asking for help to get all your stuff out of the way. That's what I had control over.
Now that that part is done...it's out of my hands to a large extent. I have to let go. I have to trust the people to come and do what they said they would. When they don't, or when it changes from what I understood, I suddenly feel all the stuffed down feelings that go with this whole change - overwhelmed, frustrated, scared - anything but strong.
Like another layer of grieving.
What helped me through that period? Sleep for sure. Let's not underestimate the power of rest. Reminding myself to breathe, big, deep, belly breaths. And I think the biggest thing for me was expressing those raw feelings. First privately through uncensored journal writing, then to an empathetic ear or two. And allowing the tears and the anger to show too. All these things helped me find my balance again.
So here's what I want to remember when attempting to live aligned through a tough time:
What about you? Anything you want to add that has helped you in your experiences?
What a journey the past two weeks have been! Though there are still many unknown's and a number of fears, I am feeling better - compared to Monday.
Monday the worker didn't show up. Monday I couldn't get a hold of him to find out why. Monday all the stress came crashing down on my head and weighed very heavy. How could I have been so proud of myself regarding how I was handling things and now suddenly I find it all too much?
After some pondering, some paddling, some sleep...I've got a hunch as to what might be going on. Clearly we're dealing with different layers and time lines when we're dealing with loss and grief.
When my brother died I think I went into logistic mode. There's so much to do, including supporting family members and his friends. I felt strange but not like how I would have imagined I'd feel at such a huge loss. It seemed buried or far away some how. Seven months later (last weekend) I'm in Toronto and suddenly I feel a wave of sadness. It hit me with no warning:
This was Peter's city.
I'll never see him again here.
I'll never see him again period.
A similar pattern seems to be showing up with this sudden unexpected (nor desired) renovation. You keep it together in order to get what needs to be done, done. Contacting and meeting with the various people who can advise you, choosing the various folks to do the work, figuring out how the heck you're going to pay for it, and packing and moving and asking for help to get all your stuff out of the way. That's what I had control over.
Now that that part is done...it's out of my hands to a large extent. I have to let go. I have to trust the people to come and do what they said they would. When they don't, or when it changes from what I understood, I suddenly feel all the stuffed down feelings that go with this whole change - overwhelmed, frustrated, scared - anything but strong.
Like another layer of grieving.
What helped me through that period? Sleep for sure. Let's not underestimate the power of rest. Reminding myself to breathe, big, deep, belly breaths. And I think the biggest thing for me was expressing those raw feelings. First privately through uncensored journal writing, then to an empathetic ear or two. And allowing the tears and the anger to show too. All these things helped me find my balance again.
So here's what I want to remember when attempting to live aligned through a tough time:
- Acknowledge that there will be layers and various depths.
- Listen to your body.
- Feel what you feel.
- Ask for and accept support.
What about you? Anything you want to add that has helped you in your experiences?
Sep 8, 2011
both farmer and field
I just learned that I have to completely redo my floor insulation...yup, the whole floor, the one upon which I eat, work, visit, sleep, live. The one upon which all my belongings currently sit. The one upon which all the walls rest.
It appears that the clay upon which the barn sits has led to condensation build up, which has given way to wet insulation, which has begun to compromise the wood frame. Any way you look at it...chaos and a huge expense has descended! No easy answers here.
What surprises me is how relatively calmly - and with some humour - I'm taking it all. I guess that's part of the beauty of acceptance. It is what it is. Neither freaking out nor hiding out is going to help. Instead I'm open and curious and ready to face the challenges, learn what I need to learn, find the resources that will help me figure out what to do and how to do it. I've even wondered what magical new idea or outcome it might lead to! (Don't get me wrong I've had my moments, complete with expletives!)
This time last year I was also hit with a range of challenges. Though I slogged through them valiantly, it was hard. It was hard because I had so little reserves to fall back on then. I guess we could say I was officially burned out. The difference in how I feel as I face my current challenges is striking. With my energy back, I can feel my attitude, my curiosity, my problem solving centers alive and active again.
Acceptance of what is includes recognizing when to stop, when to leap, when to ask for help. You can't be your best nor offer your best if you are depleted.
Self-care is not selfish, it's wise. Resting, taking time for yourself, doing nothing ... isn't wasting time (as I experienced it at times). It's wise action. A farmer knows that a field that is allowed to occasionally lay fallow will reap much more in the future.
You are both farmer and field. Take care of yourself. Tune into what part of the cycle you are meant to be in right now and be there.
***
Another learning from this year's creative sabbatical has been how much I get from structured reflection time in the form of writing and sharing my thoughts. So I hereby renew my commitment to weekly posts.
All feedback, including suggesting topics or questions, would be much appreciated.
It appears that the clay upon which the barn sits has led to condensation build up, which has given way to wet insulation, which has begun to compromise the wood frame. Any way you look at it...chaos and a huge expense has descended! No easy answers here.
What surprises me is how relatively calmly - and with some humour - I'm taking it all. I guess that's part of the beauty of acceptance. It is what it is. Neither freaking out nor hiding out is going to help. Instead I'm open and curious and ready to face the challenges, learn what I need to learn, find the resources that will help me figure out what to do and how to do it. I've even wondered what magical new idea or outcome it might lead to! (Don't get me wrong I've had my moments, complete with expletives!)
This time last year I was also hit with a range of challenges. Though I slogged through them valiantly, it was hard. It was hard because I had so little reserves to fall back on then. I guess we could say I was officially burned out. The difference in how I feel as I face my current challenges is striking. With my energy back, I can feel my attitude, my curiosity, my problem solving centers alive and active again.
Acceptance of what is includes recognizing when to stop, when to leap, when to ask for help. You can't be your best nor offer your best if you are depleted.
Self-care is not selfish, it's wise. Resting, taking time for yourself, doing nothing ... isn't wasting time (as I experienced it at times). It's wise action. A farmer knows that a field that is allowed to occasionally lay fallow will reap much more in the future.
You are both farmer and field. Take care of yourself. Tune into what part of the cycle you are meant to be in right now and be there.
***
Another learning from this year's creative sabbatical has been how much I get from structured reflection time in the form of writing and sharing my thoughts. So I hereby renew my commitment to weekly posts.
All feedback, including suggesting topics or questions, would be much appreciated.
Jul 29, 2011
tender moments and empathy
Sometimes two days is all that it takes.
When it's with a dear friend, when it involves a canoe and camping, when the weather and every other detail is perfect, when there is space and time for conversations, for swims in the nude, for song...and then another song.
I just experienced such a blissful couple of days. It included deep listening and sharing too. In the slow flow of our time together we found ourselves opening, revealing, touching deep desires as well as the places that are tender. Places I thought I had moved on from.
All of this was held with empathy - both in the heart of my friend but also my own heart. I am reminded to stay gentle with myself. I feel what I feel. It is what it is. I can hold both the beauty and the pain at the same time...and even see the beauty in the pain. Strange...but true.
Bolstered and more aware of my heart I now head off to a weekend of music and community...and possibly more tender moments. Blue Skies...one of the wonders of the world in my view. It embodies all of the values I hold dear. And a person I loved and let go of.
So....one moment at a time I will live each emotion that comes along... the full spectrum. I will keep music at the centre. I will appreciate the music offered. I will play and sing and share my own songs. I will simply drink in the community energy and joy that surrounds me...allow it to hold and nurture me. It's going to be beautiful.
May you also have a place, a person, a community experience to go to, that holds you gently in your tender moments.
When it's with a dear friend, when it involves a canoe and camping, when the weather and every other detail is perfect, when there is space and time for conversations, for swims in the nude, for song...and then another song.
I just experienced such a blissful couple of days. It included deep listening and sharing too. In the slow flow of our time together we found ourselves opening, revealing, touching deep desires as well as the places that are tender. Places I thought I had moved on from.
All of this was held with empathy - both in the heart of my friend but also my own heart. I am reminded to stay gentle with myself. I feel what I feel. It is what it is. I can hold both the beauty and the pain at the same time...and even see the beauty in the pain. Strange...but true.
Bolstered and more aware of my heart I now head off to a weekend of music and community...and possibly more tender moments. Blue Skies...one of the wonders of the world in my view. It embodies all of the values I hold dear. And a person I loved and let go of.
So....one moment at a time I will live each emotion that comes along... the full spectrum. I will keep music at the centre. I will appreciate the music offered. I will play and sing and share my own songs. I will simply drink in the community energy and joy that surrounds me...allow it to hold and nurture me. It's going to be beautiful.
May you also have a place, a person, a community experience to go to, that holds you gently in your tender moments.
Jul 14, 2011
the novel of novels
I'm reading novels again. It is an absolute joy to be returning to this simple pleasure. Especially while gently rocking in the hammock, feeling the light breeze, occasionally glancing out at the trees
I gave up the habit a long time ago when I noticed I couldn't put novels down to attend to the other things in my life. Played a lot of Russian Roulette. I began to reserve fictional reading to holiday time...and before long that dwindled too.
For the past few months, perhaps stimulated by my shifts at our local library, I have been diving in again. I love how it can restore my energy after a spout of doing or giving. Though I can still get caught up in a story such that I forget the rest of the world, I think I'm a bit more balanced now. (Perhaps because I'm giving myself permission to?) Instead of feeling guilty I savour the experience, sink into it wholeheartedly.
As someone with a dream to share her own words, thoughts, stories...this simple pleasure also serves as a support mechanism. My delight in reading is a reminder of how words and perspectives can uplift, provoke, comfort and inspire. May this realization be one more step towards my own written work...however that may manifest itself.
What pleasure are you avoiding? How does denying yourself this experience affect you? What would happen if you gave yourself permission to try it again?
I gave up the habit a long time ago when I noticed I couldn't put novels down to attend to the other things in my life. Played a lot of Russian Roulette. I began to reserve fictional reading to holiday time...and before long that dwindled too.
For the past few months, perhaps stimulated by my shifts at our local library, I have been diving in again. I love how it can restore my energy after a spout of doing or giving. Though I can still get caught up in a story such that I forget the rest of the world, I think I'm a bit more balanced now. (Perhaps because I'm giving myself permission to?) Instead of feeling guilty I savour the experience, sink into it wholeheartedly.
As someone with a dream to share her own words, thoughts, stories...this simple pleasure also serves as a support mechanism. My delight in reading is a reminder of how words and perspectives can uplift, provoke, comfort and inspire. May this realization be one more step towards my own written work...however that may manifest itself.
What pleasure are you avoiding? How does denying yourself this experience affect you? What would happen if you gave yourself permission to try it again?
Jul 6, 2011
stillpoint
It seems many roads are leading me to acknowledge, embrace and accept that I am indeed where I need to be. And right now that entails non-activity, non-striving, non-productivity. Simply being, observing and noticing.
This too is part of the creative and the writing process. Can I accept this? Not easily. Social conditioning, along with certain personality characteristics, do get in the way at times.
Last week one of our Wakefield Fringe guests, Alison Wearing ["Confessions Of A Fairy's Daughter"] talked about writing looking a lot like this: and she slumped in her chair, gazing out into space. I recognized myself. I felt somewhat affirmed.
Earlier today I had my first coaching session with Laura. My homework challenge this week is to spend an hour a day this week not working on this illusive book project...and to journal about not working on it. Curious juxtaposition. Not quite sure what that will surface but I'm looking forward to seeing what does.
And just now I re-read a post I saved from Wild Artist and received another affirmation for me to be exactly where I am:
To sing, you must put courage behind your song. To be heard, you must put heart and time into your song. But first you need to pause. Power comes from the quiet inside. The power to paint.
Except for the point, the stillpoint,
There would be no dance,
And there is only the dance.
- T.S. Eliot
Balance requires a still point. Everything unique and beautiful grows out of the still point; your dance needs to start first in a place of quiet reflection, meditation, prayer.
But now these words, these gifts from others, are allowing me to see my daydreaming, my non-action as this still point, a possible birth place for something to be born. I am just a bit more able to accept that this non-doing, non-focused time is actually a necessary part of the process for me to move forward with ease and integrity. Eventually. When it's time.
Once again what is right now (when I stop struggling against it) is actually quite perfect.
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