Dear Readers, I hope that you are well and safe and taking every precaution while self-isolating to help flatten the curve on Coronavirus. These are unprecedented times and I know that fear, stress and anxiety are rampant. I wanted to write sooner, but I’ve been struggling myself as I’ve attempted to adjust to this new normal.
Things are scary and there is a lot to worry about on top of natural emotions like loneliness, sadness, and boredom. It’s a recipe to trigger any disorder or addiction. I know I’ve been drinking too much, eating too much (which is triggering my disordered behaviors and thoughts around food), sleeping too much, working too much, reading the news too much, watching too much TV… too many unhelpful things too much of the time, of which there is simply too much.
I’ve allowed it with minimal self-judgement though because I understand I’m adjusting to a situation I’ve never experienced. I have a lot of helpful coping tools for my anxiety, disorders, and addictive tendencies, but it feels like I’m being given the ultimate test. We’re all being asked to build something we’ve never seen and for which we have no instructions. We’re all blind here, learning as we go.
So I’ve taken the past few weeks to feel my way around my emotions and this new way of life. I’ve allowed myself to give in to my emotions and fall back on old unhelpful coping tools like sleeping, drinking, and eating.
It’s funny in a weird sort of way; how many times I’d wish to be able to stay at home. How much I’d accomplish! I guess that’s why they say to be careful what you wish for. Granted, I didn’t wish for it to be under these circumstances. But here I am with an overabundance of hours in the day struggling to find the motivation to do much of anything, other than what I absolutely have to. Shit, I’m not even showering every day.
I’m impressed by those who are doing well under these circumstances. I’m not. I am weighed down by fear and loneliness, two exhausting waves of emotion lapping against the shores of my depression threatening to pull me in.
That being said, if I’ve learned anything over the past six years of this wellness journey it’s how to recognize when I need to course correct. The time is now.
Correcting Course
As I struggled with emotions that are triggering my disorders and addictions, I thought I’d reach out to someone whom I know continues to thrive. Jennie Claire has overcome more than most people, including a stroke last year that left her half-paralyzed. She’s since recovered and opened Rooted Yoga and Wellness, a yoga studio centered around holistic wellness and giving back to the community.
I asked Jennie, as someone only six months sober, to share with me how she’s managing and to offer some advice to people who are struggling with their own addictions or disorders. She answered, using alcohol as an example, but we can substitute any behavior or substance: food/disordered eating, sex, drugs, gambling, shopping/hoarding… anything that is part of our addictive pattern.
Jennie, Owner of Rooted Yoga & Wellness
“A global shut down provides us two opportunities: to get good old fashioned drunk, or to stay, or perhaps even become sober. Addiction is often a disease of loneliness, a disease of dysfunction, a disease of feeling inadequate. When we drink, the question we should be asking ourselves is why? What caused us to approach this toxin as a form of self medicating? What are we running from? What are we hiding? What are we afraid of?”
Distraction and avoidance. We turn to substances or behaviors to numb and distract ourselves from what we don’t want to/can’t face: fear, discomfort. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
Although Jennie is six months sober, she has been in and out recovery for 21 years, replacing one addiction with another.
“But today I am free,” she said. “Free from the fears, the burdens, the shackles that brought me into the patterns. Today I understand how to be alone, and that being alone doesn’t cause loneliness. Today I understand how to explore the emotions I am feeling instead of running and medicating.”
“This global pandemic to me is an opportunity to dive into yourself, your self worth, your fears, your frustrations, your why. And, chances are if you’re wondering if you should stop a behavior, you should. So today is a perfect day to take the first step. To breath in a new life free of chains, and full of hope.”
Today I took the first step. It’s a new month and self-isolation is mandated for at least 30 more days. Whether we like it or not, this way of life is our new normal. I have two opportunities, like Jennie said. I can continue to sink into old destructive patterns and behaviors or I can go inward, face my emotions, sit with them rather than numb them, and work toward doing more of that which brings me peace.
Today I went for an early morning bike ride and practiced yoga. I showered. I started reading a new book and wrote. I ate three healthy meals. I created a habit tracker for healthy habits I’d like to re-cultivate. I made a list of projects I can tackle throughout the month.
I know some days will be harder than others and on those days the best thing for me may be to stay in my pajamas, nap, and watch television. And on those days, I will do that. But I’d like for it to be by conscious choice, not because I am subconsciously hiding from my emotions.
We humans are incredibly resilient. But as we acclimate to our new environments, I urge you to be gentle with yourself and focus on your mental well-being. Many of us struggle with motivation on even the best of days. I’m not looking to make progress on my novel or come out of this a size smaller. I’m just trying not to come out of this worse than I went in. And I think if I can manage that, then I know I will at the very least come out stronger.
And so will you.
Rooted Yoga and Wellness is offering donation-based classes online! Classes include meditation, Yoga for Recovery (which complements the 12 step program), restorative yoga, yoga nidra and “Angst Away Asana.” Click here to view the class schedule.
How are you coping with the emotions triggered by this new way of life? I’d really like to hear from you.
I wrote one blog post in October. Surely someone other than my Mom noticed that? I started a draft of this post back in June. It reads “June was hard on me.” Unfortunately so was July. And August. And September. And October. I shared some of that in my last post, Stress Sucks, where I also confessed I had gained back twenty of the forty pounds I lost this year. I had high hopes that this week off would finally mark the end of a five month run of stress. It almost didn’t. But thankfully I realized my staycation mistakes early on with the help of my counselor, and finally gave myself permission to take it easy before I start my new job.
Staycation Mistakes
Mistake #1: Attempting to add too much structure to the unstructured
Before the start of vacation I began scheduling my time off in what I now realize was an attempt to add structure to the unstructured. I filled my calendar with to-dos and all the yoga and exercise classes I wanted to take.
But then my calendar became overwhelming. I struggled between what I thought I should be doing (going to yoga) and what I wanted to do (have slow mornings in my pajamas with lots of coffee and reading.)
“You are a very structured person,” my counselor said. “Structured people struggle with unstructured time, which is why they often can’t wait to get back into a routine. But this is your vacation.”
I realized I could do with a bit of unplanned time, so I stopped scheduling it all.
Mistake #2: Overly ambitious and unrealistic plans
I overwhelmed myself with ambitious and unrealistic plans. These plans included working out every day, eating perfectly, writing every day, and completing about eight thousand million projects. Is it any wonder I started vacation with splitting headaches and wanting nothing more than to sleep? Guilt gnawed at me, like a hamster on a carrot. What I should be doing ran through my head on repeat and the headaches intensified.
“What are your MAIN priorities this week?” my counselor asked.
I considered them. “Eat healthy. Umm, exercise every day for at least 45 minutes, rest, get my clothes ready for my first week of work. Oh, and write!”
Eating perfectly was never going to happen and I should have known better than to even let that combination of words pass through my mind. I had so many social plans and meals out that it was impossible. Not to mention it was Halloween! So again, I eased up on myself.
Identifying my primary goals also helped me realize that I didn’t need to go to yoga most days, especially since my body wasn’t up for it. I walked around Philadelphia nearly five miles with my Dad on Thursday. That counts. So does hitting the treadmill in my basement while I watch an episode of Scandal. I’m doing what my body is up for. After all, I’m still sleeping twelve hours every night and recovering from whatever stress my body’s been under, which leads me to…
Mistake #3: Denying the magnitude of the transition
I truly don’t feel stressed or anxious about starting my new job. I have only felt stressed or anxious about wasting this week (see mistake #4).
But my counselor helped me realize that regardless, the transition is causing anxiety. This is a major life change. There are residual emotions over leaving my previous job and there are many unknowns about the new job. I haven’t noticed because I’ve gotten skilled at staying in the present, but obviously, there are emotions lingering. It was a mistake to not acknowledge the magnitude of this life-changing transition. Once I did, that helped me to be more gentle with myself.
Mistake #4: Judging use of time
No one is productive all the time. I don’t care what they say. And personally, I don’t think that would be healthy. But I did go into this week thinking that binge-watching Stranger Things Season 2 was a waste of precious time. Anything that wasn’t writing, cleaning, prepping, cooking, producing was a waste of time. But once we identified my goals for the week, one of which is to rest, I realized there was a lot of time where I could do whatever I wanted.
So after counseling, I went home and watched Stranger Things over lunch. On Halloween, I ran my errands in the morning and then finished the season throughout the afternoon. Time wasted? No way. I enjoyed it.
So much of our stress is self-inflicted. Seriously. We put far too much unnecessary pressure on ourselves it’s ridiculous.
I was disappointed I only posted once last month. The need to write and get something up certainly gnawed at my mind. But I had nothing to say at the time, and the truth is that I had higher priorities. I gave myself permission to take the break to focus on other things. And frankly, I was exhausted all the time.
I try to live by example with this site, which is why I share so openly and honestly with you all. What kind of inspiration can I be if I start posting for the sake of posting and give myself a break down in the process?
Priorities shift as life shifts. And I’m doing my best to roll with it.
So I made some staycation mistakes. And I didn’t eat perfectly. I slept A LOT. I watched a lot of Netflix. Not much writing happened. But I DID have quality time with numerous people. And best of all, I finally feel better. The headaches are gone and I feel rested.
I received disappointing news last week. Since all my writing is inspired by my personal journey, I took this as an opportunity to coach myself on how to deal with disappointment. This post is as much for me as it is for you. And if you think I’ve left anything out, please let me know in the comments.
So anyway, yeah, I was disappointed. I had an exciting opportunity in the works. For over two months I struggled between being realistic and optimistic; not getting my hopes up and visualizing my desired outcome in order to help manifest it. In the end I decided to believe the opportunity was mine. I daydreamed, used words like “when” instead of “if.” I was confident.
Since I believed the opportunity was mine, the disappointment was magnified. It’s not just that I didn’t get something I wanted. I feel as though something was taken away from me.
So how to deal with disappointment? After all I’ve learned I can surely pass this exam. Here’s what I’m thinking:
1. Don’t take it personal
This is one of the Four Agreements in the aptly named book, The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz that I recently finished reading.
“When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.” – Ruiz
I won’t take personally not being chosen for this opportunity. There are countless reasons why I may not have been selected in the end and many of them may have nothing to do with me personally. I know this. And if it is something personal, like the sound of my voice for example, it’s still not personal. Because I also know that what others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own preferences, their own dreams. And they are entitled to them. They have no bearing on me.
2. Don’t assign meaning or make assumptions
And in that vein, not being selected doesn’t mean I’m no good or not talented or not likeable. It doesn’t mean I’ll never be successful. I won’t make any assumptions regarding future opportunities based on this one disappointment.
3. Identify the blessings or silver linings
It’s not ideal, but look, I got a crash course on how to deal with disappointment and test all I’ve learned (and my next blog post, to boot). You take the good with the bad. I’m sure there are other blessings here I can’t possibly know. Maybe the opportunity wasn’t meant for me and I would have hated it. Maybe I dodged a bullet?
Regardless, I got really far in the process and garnered a lot of valuable experience.
4. Be grateful
Like I always say, there is always something to be grateful for. I am grateful to no longer be in limbo, waiting for a decision. That turned into a terrible distraction.
I am also grateful that although it feels like I lost something, I didn’t really. I am no worse than I was before this. For that I am grateful.
5. Remain optimistic
I won’t allow life’s disappointments to turn me into a cynical pessimist. I will remain optimistic.
6. Brush yourself off
I admit that after zoning out and feeling sorry for myself for an hour or so, I then ate a really big slice of chocolate cake. But then I did brush myself off! I got my bearings and drafted this blog post to help me process my disappointment.
7. Try, try again
Then I identified next steps and immediately tossed my hat back in the ring.
One dropped ball won’t have me swearing off the game of catch. I’ve caught (and dropped) many balls in my life. There will be more balls. And I’ll drop some.
But I have a feeling I’ll catch a really good one soon…
Have anything to add? Let me know in the comments.
Every women has at one time or another experienced her menstrual cycle. Month after month for the great majority of our lives we experience hormonal fluctuations which cause changes in our bodies and shifts in our moods, sometimes drastic. Despite the fact that every woman has experienced this fact of life, our culture barely acknowledges it. I have realized that as a result, even though we all experience our periods, many of us don’t have a good understanding of our menstrual cycles. I certainly didn’t. But let me tell you that once I learned, everything changed.
We live in a male-led society with zero sympathy for what women deal with as a result of their cycles. Furthermore, there is a booming business centered around minimizing the significance of our natural cycles; discreetly sized sanitation products and pills to treat our symptoms just to name a couple. Like most women I know, I dealt with what I considered a monthly inconvenience to the best of my ability, and kept the matter to myself. But on this journey of self-understanding I was led to a better understanding of the menstrual cycle, and then my own personal natural rhythm. As a result, I have learned so much about myself and things I always thought were beyond my control, like fatigue, cravings and moodiness.
It turns out that with the right knowledge our menstrual cycles cease to be so much of a nuisance. Instead, they become a resource; predictable monthly calendars with a wealth of knowledge we can use to our advantage. We just need to learn how to read them and where we fall on any given day within our cycles.
The Wave
Ironic that a man would express a women’s monthly rhythm in a way I identify with most. John Gray, author of Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus (which I highly recommend), explains that women are like waves. We gain momentum and build ourselves up and experience high energy and then, at the end of our cycle, we crash. And then the cycle begins again, slowly building back up again until inevitably crashing again over and over… just like the waves in the ocean.
Sometimes, depending on a myriad of factors hormonal, emotional, external and the like, seas are calmer and the waves don’t grow as large or break as hard. Yet other times, our waves grow enormous and crash devastatingly hard.
Since January 2 my wave had been building with incredible force and energy. I rode my monster wave for weeks until CRASH! Without notice, the crest caved and all that energy collapsed. It was January 22. I barely left my couch. It is now January 27 and I am still held under whitewater, coming up for air as often as I can to go to work, exercise, and do chores, before resorting back to my bed or the couch for a nap. Additionally, my food cravings are incredibly intense.
The Whitewater
It took a day or two after I crashed to realize what was going on. Ahhhh, PMS, there you are. I should have begun preparing last week, but I kept forging ahead with full intensity, focused on other things. Is it any wonder I crashed so hard? Had I been more mindful of the calendar and my cycle, I would have begun to slow down, wrap up some projects, increase my calorie intake, and buy the appropriate food to nourish me yet satisfy my coming cravings.
I didn’t do those things. And so when I crashed, there was nothing to cushion me. But now that I know what’s going on, I know how to take care of myself. I know what my body needs during this phase of my cycle and how long it lasts. I know that I will start to bleed Saturday or Sunday and that I’ll turn inward for a day or two. I’ll need extra rest and won’t feel like being social. I also won’t feel terribly creative so best not to try to force it. This weekend is definitely not one for projects or parties. Luckily I have few plans and can get some rest and enjoy reading and Netflix. That’s what this time in my cycle calls for.
The Water Rises
By the middle of next week my energy and creativity will spike and so will begin my favorite nine days of my cycle where productivity becomes my middle name. This is the time to start new projects, tackle cleaning and get as much work done as possible. It’s a short lived time and I take advantage of it. I can because I am aware of its power and when it arrives. My mood is optimistic and friendly, so it’s also a good time for socializing.
The Southern Swell
After those nine days I will begin to ovulate. This is a time to give of myself and be nurturing to my friends and family. I may experience cravings and need to increase my calorie intake since my body will be exerting more energy. Many women also desire greater intimacy during this time.
The Crest and the Crash
After ovulation the wave begins its final turbulent surge as it rages toward the shore. This is a creative, yet emotional and sensitive time. Energy is waning and the dynamic becomes destructive and descends inward. The immune system lowers and near the end of this nine day phase our crest curls and crashes and we often experience cramping, bloating, fatigue, tender breasts, intense cravings, hostility and mood swings. This is a time to choose our interactions with people carefully and be sure to incorporate plenty of alone time.
Once you learn to track and understand your cycle, rather than forge on ahead as if everything is level, you can plan around these various phases. For example, this is a good time for the children to go to Grandma’s for the weekend so you can have some quiet, undisturbed time.
The crash is followed by blood time which lasts approximately five days. This is a time of quiet, comfort and reflection. Only do what is absolutely essential and avoid making any important decisions or stressful appointments. Oftentimes bleeding is accompanied by the continuation of cramps, migraines, and exhaustion. Rest. Dr. Christiane Northrup, women’s health expert, says that in a perfect world women would not leave their beds on their first day of bleeding.
Adapting
We are not afforded the luxury of staying home once a month or scheduling all of life around our cycles. But we can be more mindful and manage things within our control. You may not be able to schedule a board meeting when your wave is rising or surging, but you certainly can schedule dinner with your in-laws for that time. Plan parties, projects, decision making, your meal plan, physical activities, etc. accordingly around your cycle. If you’re going to Mexico for a week and will start to bleed, don’t plan to walk the Mayan ruins on that particular day.
Although it may seem that the expectation is for you to be energized and “on” every day, the truth is that that is not how we women were created. The native Americans believed that menstruation was a gift from the moon so that a few days every single month women were given a chance to rest. Embrace your cycle. Roll with your wave and experience it. Use it as the wonderful resource it can be to help guide you through these years of your life.
Suggested Reading
This post is only meant to be an introduction to the idea of understanding menstrual cycles to the point of using yours as a resource. I didn’t touch at all on what happens physically in the body during each phase, the fascinating cultural histories of women and their cycles, or tracking your cycle. If you’re interested in learning more and really getting a better understanding of your cycle, I highly suggest you read Moon Time by Lucy H. Pearce. This short book is wonderful and eye-opening. There is also a version written for young women, which I think is lovely! Buy it for your tween and teen daughters, nieces or sisters. Help them mature with an understanding that many of us lacked. That book is Reaching For The Moon by Lucy H. Pearce.
Additionally, let us women talk more about our cycles! During PMS and blood time, women crave sisterly communion. Let us aid one another to ease the shifting tides of our cycles and be a support to one another. Since every one of us experiences menstrual cycles, let’s not continue to experience them so alone.
And lastly, please be kind to yourself and your body. Nothing in nature blooms all the time.
“What was your happiest moment this year?” That was the daily question for December 30 in Questions For Life. Even though I wrote the questions, I am experiencing them for the first time as I use the journal for myself. This question stumped me; it made me think. What was my happiest moment? Many memories flashed before my eyes and I recognized a spectrum of nuanced emotions. It took me some time to hone in on the answer. Once I did, I realized the question had a deeper meaning. And that’s when I discovered there was much to learn from our happiest moments…
Through my daily journaling practice throughout all of 2016, I paid close attention. The year isn’t a blur for me. And specific moments of happiness stand out amongst the countless joyful ones I am incredibly grateful to have experienced. Pinpointing my happiest moments was such a good exercise because in identifying and acknowledging our happiest moments I think we are more likely to strive to recreate them. Many people, sadly, don’t seem to know what makes them happy. We generally don’t give our happiest moments the credit they deserve. We allow them to be fleeting.
My Happiest Moments of 2016
1. Beach Days: Reflecting on the year, many of my happiest moments occurred at the beach. The sun, the water, my paddleboard, a good book, relaxation, friends, laughter… it’s a recipe for joy. Emotions are tricky because they are so nuanced. As I sat in my beach chair in shallow water at my favorite spot and looked up from an excellent book and felt the sun on my face and inhaled the scent of saltwater, was it happiness I felt? Or was it joy? Or peace? A combination of many different emotions, I think. My jaw hurt from laughing with special people, my shoulders were at ease with no presence of stress. Days like that are the good stuff. I felt happy…
2. Travel: Other happiness highlights are also peppered throughout my week vacation to Asheville, NC. Quality time with family made me very happy, as did seeing new sights and being surrounded by mountains and fresh air. New experiences, however, made me feel exuberant. Standing in the middle of a forest in the pouring rain waiting my turn to slide down a natural waterfall. Later, swimming full force at the bottom of a waterfall in frigid crystal clear mountain water. Hiking. White water rafting… Travel thrills me! It makes me feel alive.
3. Conversation & Connection: Good conversation and human connection has the same effect on me as travel. There were some amazing moments this past year with people I cherish. How incredible to feel so happy just being given the opportunity to listen and to be heard, to love and be loved. It fills my heart. Without these connections, a large part of my joy would go missing.
4. Accomplishment: And finally, how I love my productive days and meeting goals! I may be confusing accomplishment with happiness here, but damn, I LOVE the way I feel after a good workout, work session or when slashing things off my to-do list. I crave it.
What My Happiest Moments Taught Me
Now that I took the time to reflect and identify what made me happiest in 2016, I know exactly what I need more of in my life in 2017. I need more:
Beach days
Travel
Conversation & Connection
Accomplishments
This is clearly the good stuff in my life that brings me the most joy. I’d be a fool not to seek more of it in my life. And that is what my happiest moments of 2016 taught me… they taught me what to go after.
So ask yourself: “What was your happiest moment this year?” Explore what makes you feel most joyous, most alive. And then, pursue it as if your life depended on it. After all, our life does depend on our happiness.
I stood before Kathy, frozen, as big fat tears welled in my eyes. She asked me the tough questions in her gentle, loving and non-judgemental way. I was “emoting,” as she says. All the complex emotions I often contain were intensified and spilling out of me.
“I’m stuck,” I choked.
“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s just sit with what you’re feeling.”
“I can do that?” I asked, seeking reassurance and permission to not take action; to not do anything. To stay stuck, where it was sorrowful but safe.
“Yes. Sometimes we need to simply lean into the uncomfortable.”
Kathy and I had this conversation two weeks ago. After having become a bit stagnant, the Universe saw fit to give me a good shake. It got my attention.
The New Moon was the very next day. Each new moon I write down a set of intentions for the cycle. Among those intentions I scribbled: Lean into the uncomfortable.
Leaning
There’s something about the word ‘lean’ that is safe. In yoga we are constantly leaning into the uncomfortable, knowing full well we can pull back when the discomfort becomes too great. It is a way of challenging ourselves, yet listening to our bodies. Until Kathy suggested I lean into my emotional discomfort, I didn’t connect the two. I am often frozen in place, terrified to step into the unknown, the uncertain. I despise the discomfort. It has been my way to run from it, numb it, or viciously attack it. Like so many others, I, too have numbed my discomfort with drugs, alcohol, sex and food. I have hid from it with sleep. I have attacked it by making others feel as uncomfortable as I did.
But now, equipped with new vocabulary I intended to begin to “lean” ever so gently into that which makes me feel uncomfortable. I started small, experiencing my hunger and sitting with it, rather than rushing to satiate it. Every time I felt uncomfortable for whatever reason, I reminded myself to lean into it. I was like a child dipping a toe into water to test the temperature.
This was a start.
Earlier this week, I suffered tremendous emotional discomfort. From the moment I woke up until the moment I fell asleep I felt it. My first instinct was to call out of work, drink Nyquil and sleep the day away. In times of discomfort we so often resort back to our old patterns of behavior. But after all this work I was able to identify it as that; a pattern. So instead I said to myself, “This is uncomfortable. But we’re gonna lean into it. We’re gonna show up for life anyway.”
And so I went to work.
Throughout the day my thoughts waged war on themselves. In a desperate attempt to quiet them, I focused on my work. I knew the night would be torturous without a distraction and I couldn’t allow it to be food. So in an act of Herculean emotional effort, I signed up for a yoga class after work and promised myself I’d go. During yoga, I continued to ease into the uncomfortable, pushing my body deeper into poses, combating the thoughts that wrestled around in my mind. One of the thoughts was fear over what I would do after yoga…
I know this may seem vague, since I haven’t gone into why I was so upset. But the truth is that it’s irrelevant. If it’s not one struggle, it’s another. Life is full of them. And I need to learn how to lean into them without resorting to destructive and avoidance behaviors.
After yoga, my urge was to crawl into bed. The leaning I was doing was far from restful, and I was exhausted. But instead, I had a good cry in an effort to release some of what I was feeling – another way of experiencing my discomfort. Afterward, I took a hot shower since I knew it would do me good. I dressed comfortably and put on thick, warm socks, a healthy way of easing some discomfort. And since I have learned that life doesn’t stop when we have a hard day (as much as we wish it would), I started making the turkey chili for my work holiday pot luck.
For me, skipping the occasional meal is not an act of destruction, but one of self-care. So I did not eat dinner. I feared that once food entered my mouth, I’d ramsack my kitchen hunting for more like a shark on the scent of blood. I couldn’t risk doing this in an effort to numb my discomfort. And so I allowed myself to feel it. And in order to feel it, I couldn’t eat.
At last, I could go to sleep. I leaned into my discomfort for an entire day without resorting to old patterns of destructive behavior. As upset and exhausted as I was, I couldn’t help feeling an inkling of pride. I had dipped my toe into unfamiliar waters, and survived to tell the tale.
Unfortunately, the discomfort has not passed since. It has shifted. Once again this morning I debated calling out of work. And once again I made the decision to show up for life, fearful that staying home would enable me to wallow in my discomfort and exacerbate a lingering anxiety. I am proud of my choice and grateful for my decision.
It wasn’t until I wrote this post that I’ve realized how much most people lean into the uncomfortable on a daily basis. It amazes me, since my pattern has always been to give in or numb. Every day people with broken hearts, sadness, anger, and tremendous worries get up and show up and continue on with their lives despite their tremendous discomfort. I find it brave and I am in awe of their strength to do this.
I’m working on my leaning muscles so that I may be stronger and better at facing my problems and fears, rather than avoiding them. I will continue leaning into the uncomfortable. And when I’m ready, I will walk. But for now, it is enough simply to lean into the discomfort.
I’m tired. Sure, it’s the most wonderful time of the year to be stressed and overwhelmed after all. But that’s not only why I’m tired. I’m tired because I have three events over the next three days all centered around food. The thought of navigating said events without overindulging exhausts me. The holidays are a particularly difficult time of the year for people with weight and food issues. But on top of the usual food anxiety, I have added pressure this year. You see, I’m participating in a clinical study and there is a weight requirement. A requirement I didn’t quite make…
But let me back up.
On the first of December I began enrollment for the clinical study. If you haven’t participated in one before, trust me that there is a lot involved. A twenty plus page consent form to review, physical, blood testing, other examinations… I was two hours in to my appointment when the doctor asked if I knew what my BMI (body mass index) was. “I believe it’s thirty-four,” I said. “Oh, good,” she said. “Thirty-five or higher is an automatic exclusion in the study.”
It was time for me to undress and prepare for the examination portion of this lengthy enrollment process. I sat on the edge of the examination table holding my thin pink gown closed around my naked body when the doctor returned looking forlorn. My heart sank.
“What is it?” I asked.
She placed her hands on my knees, a kind gesture. “I am so sorry, but I just calculated your BMI and you don’t qualify.”
Stunned, my mind kicked into overdrive. “I lost weight since my last visit!” I exclaimed hopefully. “Weigh me again,” I demanded, sliding off the table.
My attitude energized the doctor. “Let’s do this!” she said. “Take off your necklace, take off your earrings.” It would have been funny if it wasn’t so desperate. “I won’t ask you to take off your robe.”
“Oh God, please don’t.” Even though this women would eventually perform a breast exam and place her fingers inside of me, I have my limits. They include standing naked on a scale in front of an audience.
Just as I had known, I lost weight since my last appointment. Not too shabby for a week after Thanksgiving, if I do say so myself. The doctor punched the numbers into her BMI calculator. She looked up at me, sadly.
“Thirty-five POINT three.”
“POINT three?” I asked in disbelief.
She nodded.
Tears welled in my eyes. For the first time in my life I wouldn’t be able to do something solely because of my weight. And that is an incredibly harsh reality.
She placed a sympathetic arm around my shoulders as I apologized profusely.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” she said. “That BMI is too low. Nearly half my patients have a BMI higher than 35.”
“How much weight does the point three amount to?” I asked, wiping my eyes.
“Two pounds.”
“I can lose two pounds.”
“I know you can. But unfortunately we can’t continue with the examination at this point. But we can reschedule for a month from now.”
“Will we have to do everything over?”
“Yes, but don’t you worry about that.”
She gave me another compassionate squeeze and left me to get dressed. I was mortified. And full of self-loathing.
After a short while she returned looking much more positive than when she departed.
“Don’t kill me,” she started. “But I re-read through all the guidelines and it turns out we can continue with the examination and record your weight at your second visit next week!”
“So I just have to lose two pounds in a week and we can stay on schedule?”
“Yep!”
“I can do that!”
“Great! I have to ask you to get undressed again.”
This was turning into one hell of an emotional rollercoaster…
So let’s fast forward to yesterday, December 7, the day before my appointment. I weighed myself in the morning and I had succeeded in losing the two pounds plus a little extra for wiggle room (pun intended). I felt accomplished and relieved. The pressure would soon be off.
But then I received a phone call in the evening. All my test results hadn’t come in yet so my appointment would have to be postponed after all. Now, after all that, I have to maintain this weight twelve more days… and right in the midst of a jam packed holiday social calendar. FUN! It will be my twelve days of Christmas indeed. On the first day of Christmas, I’ll forego bread and pasta, on the second, dessert, on the third, cheese… oh God, help me.
The pressure is on. Willpower is not infinite. Like a fuel tank, it runs low. Too much use and you’ll find yourself on empty. I don’t expect everyone to understand this struggle. But there are those of you whom I know full well do understand. And also understand that one dinner out can add three pounds and the Christmas weight struggle is real. When food is a trigger, three nights of festivities and dinners (two of which are at Italian restaurants) is daunting. I am nervous and anxious.
But then again, I have the tools and I know I can do this. I am looking at these twelve days as an opportunity. An opportunity to test myself, practice tools, and shift my focus from the food to the people I will be spending time with. I am intrigued by the possibility of going through a holiday season not feeling bloated and indulgent, but instead feeling healthy and balanced. It will certainly make picking out my outfits easier… and give me added confidence especially with visiting friends and family I haven’t seen in a while.
I’m up to the challenge. Will I make my goal? Stay tuned to find out…
I’ve been ill for seven days now. For the majority of the time I’ve been too sick to do anything but sleep or stare into space. The days have blurred together with only different patterned pajama pants and tissue boxes adding any variety. As my body attempts to heal and I try to aid it, I can’t help but wonder… I’ve been healthier than ever, so why am I so sick? As my physical illness subsides, a tremendous sadness has taken its place. I struggle to understand what’s happening to me and my body. There seems several explanations, one being that perhaps I have entered the Dark Night of The Soul.
Illness Without Warning
Over the course of this wellness journey I’ve learned to take better care of myself: physically, mentally and spiritually. I pay attention to my body, my emotions; I practice self-care. I’ve changed. I’ve grown.
But this time… there was no warning.
Seven days ago I woke up feeling exhausted and weighed down, like my bones had been coated in adamantium steel. I slept for two days, too sick and exhausted to read or even watch television. I felt like roadkill. Then came a sore throat so excruciating it brought me to tears. I went to the doctor. She said I had a virus and gave me a steroid. By nighttime, the sore throat had let up and been replaced with a violent cough. The cough settled deeply into my lungs, and sent alien looking sputum through my mouth and nose for days. I left my home only twice during this period. The second time was for urgent care when the force of my cough ruptured a capillary in my throat and I vomited blood. That’s how I learned I had a bronchial infection/pre-pneumonia.
I still have limited use of my voice and an obscene amount of mucus and a cough that sounds similar to that of a pack a day smoker in their seventies. So I find it a little ironic that exactly one week from today I will achieve 100 days cigarette free. This will be the longest I have ever gone without smoking since I started in my teens. And yet, I’m the sickest I have ever been.
Illness Inquiry
I understand why we get sick. Germs, pathogens… I know how it works. It’s virus season and something has been going around. It is absolutely possible that I simply picked something up. And yet, I just can’t believe it’s that simple. All these efforts to be healthier, and yet I’ve been so sick… why? That is the question that gnaws at my brain. After a life of ignoring my body to devastating effects, I have learned to listen. What didn’t I hear? What is happening inside of my body?
I wondered if perhaps my lungs are detoxing… shedding. Maybe on the cusp of 100 days cigarette free my body is saying, “I believe you this time. I trust you. I will begin to let go of the fifteen plus years of abuse you have done to me.”
The symbolism and timing made sense to me. Then I realized that I’ve been shedding for a long time. Bad habits, self-destructive behaviors, unnecessary stress, negative self-talk, toxic relationships… I figured maybe my body decided to literally shed itself too.
Then yesterday, sadness overcame me.
Entering the Dark Night of The Soul
It’s been a painful and lonely week. Last night my heart broke open in self-pity and I cried a river of tears from a broken dam of my own expectations and ego. I realized how completely not special I am and felt utterly alone. It was a pity party unlike no other, and I gave in to the release. Six days of the worst sickness of your life without so much as a hug can do that to you, I suppose.
After my cry and an honest chat with a friend, I felt better. I acknowledged that my suffering was caused by my own expectations of others and that is on me, not anyone else. Also, I realized that in replaying the week I was living in the past and not the present. The sickness had clearly heightened my emotions. Being off my routine and away from most human contact for an entire week had taken its toll on me. I cushioned myself after that and laid in bed.
But today the sadness continued and I remained curious. Thankfully, the Universe provided a possible explanation… and I just love that it’s part of the hero’s journey.
“The dark night of the soul comes just before revelation. When everything is lost, and all seems darkness, then comes the new life and all that is needed.” -Joseph Campbell
Can this be a new path in my journey? I read more about the spiritual Dark Night of The Soul. It’s a process that occurs after a seeker has gained a lot of spiritual knowledge or growth when the ego attempts to strengthen its grip on us to prevent us from going further to the light.
Last night my ego was the loudest mouth at my pity party. Even while thinking the selfish, immature, egotistical thoughts I was thinking, I couldn’t help but realize how unenlightened I sounded. Last night, my ego threw a temper tantrum.
“Even though this is a very beautiful and sacred process, it can be perceived at the time as very difficult. Especially when you are in the thick of the fog. This is why it is called the dark night of the soul. You feel as if you are stuck in the dark with no hope of seeing the light again. You already feel totally alone due to this process, and on top of that it is not talked about often. This is because a lot of us look for the light only and try to run away from the dark, not realizing that the dark will only grow larger the more you ignore it.” – in5d
Apparently, many people think they have done something wrong when the symptoms of the Dark Night appear, especially if they just went through so much perceived spiritual growth. I see myself in that. I said earlier that I am the healthiest I have ever been, so why now? What did I do wrong?
“When you find yourself in the Dark Night, show gratitude because you are going through a sort of rites of passage or a spiritual detox. The pain you feel is the pain you have tried to suppress for years, decades, and even lifetimes. It is now finally bubbling up to the surface to be healed with the love you give it. Even though it seems painful to face this pain, you should feel honored that this pain is finally flowing out of you. We don’t even realize the heavy baggage that we have held onto for so long.”
This all makes sense to me, and I believe that my illness may have to do with this spiritual detox. I am on the verge of the next step –I can feel it! This time of illness and inquiry helped me to understand what’s been happening. I believe I am entering a new phase, a phase of spiritual depression, and I must use this time to detach my emotions from the stories they have claimed, and cultivate love.
“The reason why we find ourselves in a Dark Night is because we are learning trust, acceptance, love, and surrender. This is our true nature, and the ego knows this and puts up a fight. A very strong fight! The ego is unwilling to give up its control and fearfulness and this is perfectly normal because this is ego’s nature. When you see it as ego’s nature and not your nature and that it is inevitable, it gives you the power to ALLOW.”
I have only begun to scratch the surface on the Dark Night of the Soul, what it means and what is to be done about it. And that’s enough for me for now. My inquiry has yielded answers that make sense to me. In the meantime, I will practice self-love. I will cushion myself, stay mindful of my ego and the false stories it tells, and practice self-care as I continue to heal from this sickness.
Things happen for a reason. I couldn’t accept this was simply a virus. I have come to know myself far too well for that. If entering into the Dark Night of the Soul, or some form of it, means moving forward, then so be it. I will enter this time of darkness, and face my lingering demons with love.
Like physical exercise, spiritual exercise works only if we do it. Even better is if we not wait to do it until we find ourselves in trouble. Often we work out hard after overindulging. This is not unlike our relationship with prayer. We often surrender spiritually and reach for a higher power when disaster has struck. Lesson 8 of Marianne Williamson’s A Course In Weight Loss stresses the utmost importance of practicing spiritual surrender. The goal is to get us surrendering to the divine and calling on the power that dwells within us all before disaster strikes. This is how we can begin to deconstruct and dissolve the emotions that lead to emotional overeating.
Lesson 8 calls for practicing spiritual surrender by handwriting a prayer 30 times morning and night for three days. The prayer is:
Dear God, please feed my hunger and restore my right mind. Teach me how to love.
When I first read lesson 8, I had a strong and immediate response. It was, “I’m not doing that.”
I thought the assignment was silly and unnecessarily time-consuming. But then something my friend, Kathy says came to mind and that’s more or less that it is often the things we have an adverse response to that we need most. Then I also realized this wasn’t that different than reciting “I have a choice” forty times for forty days while setting an intention for my mala. I also committed to doing every lesson in this book. So I picked a journal that I had been “saving” for a special occasion, gifted to me by another friend. It is leather bound with the impression of a magnificent tree, and has beautiful parchment pages. I knew this was the proper place to put my prayers.
And so, feeling slightly foolish, I sat and wrote my prayer thirty times, an image of Bart Simpson at the blackboard coming to mind. Then I did it the following evening, the next morning and so on until I was done.
This is not a religious blog, nor do I write about prayer here, so please bear with me if this isn’t your cup of tea.
I learned that the prayer is not unlike an intention. Throughout the act of repetition I began to really dissect the plea. I use food to feed my hunger, although my hunger is not for food. I still don’t know completely what I’m hungry for, but I know I am not in my right mind when I attempt to satiate my hunger with food. It has something to do with love, particularly the lack of love I have for myself.
Through the repetition I found some strength and ease. Then I disregarded it until I began to write about this lesson. I didn’t practice surrendering enough to make it habit. It would be amazing if I could surrender during difficult moments at the very least, but that is when I find it is hardest because I’m in some sort of blackout, autopilot state (more on that when I recap lesson 9). Surrendering when things are going well doesn’t even occur to me. This is why this lesson requires mental discipline. Through the process of writing about spiritual surrender, I have come to understand it more.
The book makes a point of reminding us that if one antibiotic doesn’t knock out an infection, it doesn’t mean it’s not working. “Prayer is spiritual medicine,” Williamson wrote.
“[Prayer] boosts your spiritual immune system by increasing the depth of your surrender. Whether or not you believe it works is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter what you think about surrendering to the divine. All that matters is that you surrender.“
Williamson continues to say that, “In all things, spiritual surrender marks the end of struggle and the beginning of true ease.” The point is to establish the mental discipline of calling on a higher power as a regular practice to cultivate and maintain serenity, not just in hours of need. The lesson is meant to dismantle our resistance to doing that.
“Spiritual surrender is a full-throttle willingness to let go of everything – every thought, every pattern, and every desire – that blocks love from entering into you and extending through you.”
It is a beautiful concept. I also happen to know it works. The problem is remembering to surrender. In times of struggle we often become so protective, and go so far inward, or leave our bodies completely, that surrendering or calling on something higher than ourselves does not occur to us. We become entirely narrow-minded and focused on survival.
Therefore, spiritual surrender will take a lot more discipline on my part in order for it to become a part of my daily practice.
How do you practice spiritual surrender? Any words of advice?
I’ve written before about how much I love the start of a new year. I imagine it was the high energy and positivity a new year brings that contributed to my second attempt at appreciating my body. January 17 was a bitter cold, dreary Sunday more than two months after my first attempt at completing A Course in Weight Loss‘ Lesson 7. The promise of snow lingered in the air and calm permeated my home like the scent of simmering soup. The weekend had been healthy and productive, my favorite kind. I had no further obligations and the clean sanctuary of my home office beckoned. The timing was perfect for ending an abusive relationship with my body and beginning an honorable one.
Preparation
I started with a long, steamy shower and concentrated on becoming more aware of my body as I prepared for the ritual before me. I sloughed my body of the dry skin that seemed to cover every inch of me, then slowly shaved my legs. This wasn’t my usual five minute shower, but more like the kind I take when I anticipate intimacy; giving of my body to someone else to enjoy. This time I prepared my body for intimacy with myself.
I concentrated as I slowly dried my skin, paying attention to each limb and joint. The silky material of my favorite robe felt pleasant against my skin. My awareness of my body increased as I sought to repair my relationship with the container of my soul.
Inside my office, I lit candles and incense upon my altar and played meditative music. I laid a towel on the floor directly before my altar and bowed to the Buddha before slipping off my robe. Standing naked and exposed, I battled embarrassment, shame and the urge to reach for cover. I stood tall, my hands in a prayer position at my heart. Snow started its slow and sporadic fall just outside the windows directly in front of me. I strived to summon the grace, strength, power and beauty of ancient kings and queens who regularly performed similar rituals.
Acknowledgement of Abuse
I reached for the oil. As the book instructed, I started with my feet. My cracked and calloused heels felt rough in my hands and guzzled the oil like desert dirt gulps rainwater. I apologized to my heels for giving them so much weight to bear.
Next, I lovingly smoothed the oil into the skin of my ankles and legs. I examined the scars and beginnings of varicose veins bright against the paleness of my flesh. So many scars… from accidents, bug bites, a tomboyish youth, all coupled with a horrible habit of scab picking. And then the pencil thin scars on the insides of my thighs. Not the stretch marks that are plentiful I assure you, but the marks I made myself many years ago. My eyes filled as the sight of those scars brought me back to my teenage bedroom. The sadness, loneliness and anger I felt then coursed through me. I cried for that teenage girl who felt so scared, so hurt, so lonely that she dragged razor blades across her flesh in order to feel something, anything other than what she was feeling.
I rubbed my thumbs gently over those scars lovingly as a parent might rub a smudge of dirt off a toddlers pudgy cheek. “I’m so sorry,” I sobbed over and over as I allowed myself to grieve, not just for my body, but for myself and the young girl I used to be. “I’m trying. I swear to you I’m trying so hard.”
I wrapped my arms around myself and hung naked in a sort of forward fold as my body wracked with sobs. My skin absorbed oil mixed with tears. When I was ready, I once again summoned the power of those ancient queens and stood tall once more.
Coincidence is indeed God’s way of remaining anonymous. Just yesterday I read these words spoken by Chris Cleave’s character, Little Bee in the book Little Bee:
“I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”
I ask you all now to join with me in Little Bee’s pact. Let us all see scars as beauty. Okay?
I continued my upward journey as I thanked my skin for its ability to expand and apologized for making it have to. My belly. My belly is something I hardly ever look at in a mirror except to ensure it’s properly covered. It’s the palest part of my body, as white as the snow that fell just outside my window. I rubbed oil into it with both hands in a circular motion and apologized for hating it so much. I had rejected and detested my stomach, my core, the very center of me. In order to heal myself I now understand that I must make peace with my core and allow love to permeate the center of me.
Emotions continued their flash flood as I massaged my breasts with oil. Each was heavy in my hand. I have always disliked my breasts. They don’t make me feel sexy; they make me feel fat. More often than not, they are a nuisance. I have resented being told I should be grateful for them because men love large breasts. Excuse me if I don’t think that is a valid enough reason to graciously accept the many drawbacks of having large breasts.
But as I cupped my breasts in my hands I thought of my mother as she laid in her hospital bed post-mastectomy and placed her hand where her breast used to be and grieved the loss of her womanhood. And so I apologized to my breasts for disliking them. I apologized for not keeping them sacred and sharing them with far too many people who didn’t deserve access to my body so freely. I thanked them for not being cancerous.
The oil felt good against my skin and my body relaxed, responding to my touch, opening up to me, welcoming me. I began to feel more comfortable in my own skin and no longer felt the urge to cover up.
As I rubbed the oil into my back as best as I could, I apologized to my back for not being able to scratch and lotion it properly because I’m so wide. I apologized for the weakness of my core and shoulders that result in my poor posture, straining my back. I apologized that I’m so insecure at times I tend to huddle into myself, adding further stress to my back. Despite all this, my back truly has “my back,” so I thanked it for doing its job so amazingly well and praised it for its strength.
New Beginning
I covered the remainder of my body – my face, my ears, my neck. The sheen on my skin glistened in the flickering candlelight. I ran my hands slowly over my slippery surface, satisfied I hadn’t missed a spot. I sat on my towel in order to meditate on what I was feeling. Sitting cross-legged naked was so unfamiliar that I laughed out loud. “Here I am,” I thought. This was me in my purest state, nothing to hide behind. I looked down at my thighs, breast and belly and the way they all rested on one another unsupported by clothing. I sat up straight and lowered my eyes.
It’s true. I’ve fed my body excessive food, but too little love and care. It’s time to reunite my inner and outer self. I thanked my body for the way it moves despite everything I’ve done to it; for the miraculous way it heals; for the physical pain it endures and the resilience it demonstrates. I thanked it for the endless ways it supports me and for its power. Our skin is our biggest organ and I apologized for everything I exposed it to, environmentally, chemically, physically, all undeservedly. I thanked my skin for containing every single part of me.
Although I didn’t protect my body, it has protected me. I took advantage of my body and was in an abusive relationship with it. It took performing this ritual to understand all that. I am so grateful to have marked the beginning of an honorable relationship with my body. That was the goal of Lesson 7: to repair and restore the relationship between me and my physical self.
Like the oil, I think it’s safe to say it was absorbed.
P.S. Although I completed this ritual nearly seven months ago, I hadn’t wanted to write about it until now. It took me all these months to integrate the process and formulate my thoughts surrounding it. Now that I have, I feel the full benefits of the Lesson. If you’re working through A Course in Weight Loss, a similar book, a process of your own or simply wondering why I have been working through the same book for well over a year, please remember that change takes time, patience and space.
This post is only meant to be an introduction to the idea of understanding menstrual cycles to the point of using yours as a resource. I didn’t touch at all on what happens physically in the body during each phase, the fascinating cultural histories of women and their cycles, or tracking your cycle. If you’re interested in learning more and really getting a better understanding of your cycle, I highly suggest you read 
