“I Can’t Do It…But If I Could…”

(Title image: Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash)

What would that feel like?

After a few weeks away for a funeral in my hometown, it’s not so simple to jump back into what I was doing before.

This has led to some ‘motivation’ issues (complicated by the grieving process, no doubt). As a result, I’ve been reviewing how I tackle difficult tasks. Before I undertake anything that I consider less palatable, it’s not unusual for me to have some sort of visceral reaction to the idea of the task. I think this is true for many of us. And we might not even be aware that this is taking place.

Encountering resistance to initating projects?
(Photo by Peyman Shojaei on Unsplash)

But if that response is strong enough and negative enough, it can shut down the possibility of accomplishing the task in front of us.

If we can’t get past that point, we don’t tackle the things we should. Unfortunately, those may be the kinds of things that help us grow personally, professionally, health-wise and the like.

So I have a suggestion for you. The next time you have that “ugh, I can’t do that” reaction, stop and consider:

* But…what if I could?
* How would I go about taking care of that? What steps would I take?
* What would it feel like to know that I was doing it?
* How great would it feel to be done?

When you start answering these questions for yourself, several things happen. You introduce the possibility of starting, making it less daunting. Sometimes that’s the hardest part. You open up a path for moving forward, breaking down what needs to be done into small steps. You may imagine yourself taking care of things and bring them into reality.

So what does this look like? Take cleaning as an example, something that I usually put off. “House cleaning” as a concept may seem like a monolithic undertaking. There are so many other things that I’d like to be doing, and many of them important. But consider, what might it be like to just, say, grab the vacuum cleaner and vacuum one area…yeah, that seems doable. And maybe after that, just empty some trash cans. How would it feel to do that? Not to get bogged down in the process but to move through it.

The “Done” List

Try a different kind of list. Instead of (or in addition to) a “to-do” list, make a “done” list. Write down everything you’ve accomplished. It can feel really good to see what you’ve done and more positive than simply crossing off items on a “to-do” list since you’re adding accomplishments instead of taking away tasks.

Note your accomplishments instead of simply crossing out tasks.
(Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash)

If you have a particularly difficult time getting motivated, split your already-split-up tasks up into even smaller parts: instead of waiting until you’ve “vacuumed the house” to write it down, note that you “vaccuumed the entry way”, “vacuumed the front part of the living room”, even “vaccumed the doormat”. It counts. Because no matter what you’ve done, it’s still better than not having done anything, even if it’s just one thing.

Let your own need for putting completed tasks behind you be the guide for how granular to get with this.

I do this when I clean. And, yes, my go-to is the vacuum to get started. Or sometimes the toilet. But it could also be doing the dishes, something that I’ve actually dreaded in the past but realized that it takes a surprisingly short time. Our brains are what stop us from proceeding so make the process rewarding to your gray matter.

Many of the tasks that we don’t undertake are simpler, easier and take less time than we anticipate (or fear!). The key is to not psych ourselves out, instead breaking them down into bite-sized pieces and recognizing their completion as a reality. Even if you don’t do it all, you’ve done part, bouyed by the knowledge that it doesn’t have to be perfect to count. This builds positive associations with getting things done.

No matter how much you do, it’s all good.


Staying Present in Discomfort: Being Here When You’d Rather Not

Title image: Photo by Tolga Ulkan on Unsplash

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Thank you everyone for your patience during this time of my father’s passing from cancer and dementia. I have appreciated the quiet visit to my childhood home, supporting my mother and being comforted by close friends and relatives.
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There are times that the present moment is an uncomfortable place to be in.

That’s when things are not going well and you want the current situation to be over so that you can move past it and onto healing. But one could argue that this is exactly the time you need to sink even deeper into the present moment.

And even more important to get more granular and still. To observe what is going on even more closely. To understand the important of this very point in time, how it will never come again in the same way. And even in this discomfort there is something to learn, something to lean into, something to accept.

I felt this strain while my father was still in in-home hospice, declining at a pace that was both quick and slow depending on what you’re focusing on. It evoked an axiety in me: wanting to hold on to him and save him–but knowing that this was an impossibility. The tug of time is unrelenting, taking everything with it like a glacier or a tsunami that continues onward no matter what is in its way.

But this is also an opportunity to remember that the impermanence of life does not take away from the joy and beauty of it. Dropping down into what is happening right now, taking a front seat on top of that glacier/tsunami, and allowing everything to be here is the way to appreciate all of this.

So while I would rather that the things that were happening not be happening, I couldn’t stop them. I sat here trying to understand my feelings and allowing gratitude for my father’s long life to remain in the forefront. There was peace in knowing that he was living his last days at home, in familiar surroundings with my mother there.

I could have made all sorts of stories up about what he was feeling or thinking, but the reality is that I didn’t know. So I didn’t pretend and instead noticed the sounds around me, the feeling of the air on my skin and the knowledge that my father’s imminent passing unscored all the many things about him and my own life that I have to be thankful for.

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It’s easier to ignore reality and think about other things, but that doesn’t help us deal with them.

A Rock in a Bubbling Stream [Visualization]

(Photo by Hendrik Cornelissen on Unsplash)

There’s a lot going on in my family at this time, most importantly the transition of my father to in-home hospice care, signaling that a life chapter will be coming to a close. That’s one of those things that you know is going to happen but usually don’t want to think about.

It’s these kinds of changes that unsettle us the most because they’re significant shake-ups of life as we know it. In the case of my family, this change was not unexpected and yet it is still not easy.

The uncertainties associated with end-of-life issues can be unsettling.
(Photo by Pylyp Sukhenko on Unsplash)

But I can draw on my meditation practice and ability to stay present to accept things are they are now.

It helps to use a visualization in the midst of emotional upheaval. So I think of myself as being a rock in a rushing stream. You know, one of those rocks that sticks out about the water’s surface and might serve as a comfortable sunning place for a river turtle.

The rock sits still even thought there is a rushing tumult all about. The water parts around it and then rejoins on the opposite side, but the rock remains there, unmoving and unbothered.

The rock doesn’t hinder the flow but neither does it get carried away by it. And as it sits, so do I, observing and understanding and accepting everything that is going on around me. Not getting caught up in my head and taken away by thoughts.

Mindfulness meditation provides me with a stable rock from which I observe the tumult of life as it rushes by.
(Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash)

There will come a time to grieve but now I focus on what is happening in the moment and how I can support my parents. There is gentle planning as I get more information about the situation. And always, taking deep breaths, feeling into my hands and feet, staying grounded. From this vantage point, I can clearly see what needs to be done today.

“This is what’s happening now. Tomorrow may be different, but at this point in time, I am here.”

So the coming weeks may bring shorter posts, perhaps a skipped one here or there. There will be much to do and it will all get done in time. Decisions will be made as they come up. Focus remains on each task at hand. Even if responsibilities come fast, I find a stable base in my practice that helps support a strong relationship with my family.

The river rushes relentlessly. But I know it’s there and expect the constant movement. Changes become familiar, fear drops away and I am comfortable where I sit, calm as I watch the waters flow past me and then continue onward.

Entering a Dimension of Calm

(Title image: Photo by Ksenia Makagonova on Unsplash)

One of the amazing “side effects” of meditation for me has been that the calm I experience while I’m on my meditation cushion has been leaking into the rest of my life.

This did not happen overnight. As a matter of fact, it took a number of years (I am currently on 7+ years of daily meditation). But through the ups and downs of my sessions, there’s been a wonderful build-up of grounding and calm.

Yes, I still get smacked with a powerful wave of anxiety from time to time. But recovery is quicker and I don’t feel like I’m being dragged under, disoriented.

The raw dimension is slippery and loud and agitated.
(Photo by Martin Adams on Unsplash)

What I have been feeling lately is that there is a dimensionality to how I experience the world. It’s like this: there is the raw world, which has lots of hard edges and bright lights–overexposed, washed out colors–and loud noises. That’s the world I used to live in exclusively and it felt like a whoosh flying at me and pulling me in, allowing no control over what was hitting me, nor much of a way to steer myself.

But now, I’ve transcended that dimension somewhat. I’ve found a much more grounded dimension, perhaps a more soothing shade–think “golden hour”. The colors are deeper, the pace is slower, the sounds are gentler, the edges are softer. In this dimension, I find my roots quickly, feeling my feet on the floor and connection to the earth, to what is stable and unchanging.

The calm dimension invites deep breaths and beckons us into the present moment.
(Photo by Jasper Boer on Unsplash)

Here, I hear my breath and feel the tingle in my hands. I notice when I’m clenching my jaw, furrowing my brow, hunching my shoulders. I am also aware of when the raw dimension starts pushing to the forefront and am able to prioritize creating a safe space so that I don’t leave myself exposed.

This may sound very woo-woo but I assure you it’s not. It’s very much down-to-earth and sensible. There is no otherworldly magic at work. Just the understanding that my nervous system needs to feel safe and stable, and that I can offer myself a protective shield not by running away, but by settling into where I am.

It is as if there is a comfy blanket that I draw around myself, and from there I sit and watch and process and, if necessary, deflect the things around me. This is the gift that consistent meditation along with mindfulness have given me, and it feels like for the first time I’m experiencing life the way it was meant to be lived. Not as something to dodge and weave around but something to grow with.

Pictures at an Exhibition: Re-framing Your Fears

(Title image: Photo by Dannie Jing on Unsplash)

I have a history of getting myself wrapped up in future fears and past regrets. It can be terrifying and difficult to shut off, especially during very stressful events.

I have to be honest, there was a time when I was afraid that if something seemed so real in my head, something I could describe in fine detail and feel the fear via physiological responses in my body, it was more likely to come true.

I don’t know how that actually started. It might have been some form of “magical thinking” that suggested that if I’m having a response, it was a premonition that accurately predicted the future. Or maybe I was so frightened by how real it felt. Regardless, it was difficult to shake.

With the help of mindfulness, meditation and expert guidance from a counselor, I found it easier to notice when this was happening. It took years to get to this point and the shift was very gradual.

It’s not a perfect shift, however. From time to time, I still get run through the wringer by fearful thoughts so I’ve developed a silly practice to help myself defang this beast. When I realize I’ve been caught, I grab the thought and run to the nearest art gallery–in my mind.

It’s the ability to step back and put space between yourself and your fears that makes this such a helpful practice.
(Photo by Xavier von Erlach on Unsplash)

Yes, I realize this sounds strange, but hear me out: (1) I recognize that an anxious thought is particularly sticky, (2) I compress it into a two-dimensional image, and (3) place it in an imaginary frame on an imaginary wall in an imaginary environment that I define, and finally (4) I step back to give myself some space–as if I were at an art gallery evaluating a painting–and note that it is only a picture, one that I could potentially remove from the exhibition and send to storage.

Then I ground myself in the present, feeling my feet on the real floor where I actually am.

This kind of manipulation requires some imagination and, like I mentioned, this practice can seem a little silly. But it does help to recognize that the thing that elicited such a strong response in us is really just a simple thought. We can choose what to do with that thought.

IMPORTANT: I acknowledge that the physical responses are real and they might be driven by the real possibility of something bad happening. We don’t have a crystal ball to tell us with 100% certainty what will take place in the future. But what we do know is that nothing is happening now. If you can clear the foreboding images out of your mind you will realize that in this moment you are safe. And that is a very comforting place to be.

Take-a-Break Monday

(Title image: Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash)

For anyone who’s been wondering, it is true that I did not post last Monday.

There was so much going on at home, including cleaning and prepping for out-of-town guests who were coming in for my eldest child’s university graduation that was taking place over the weekend.

I had so much to do that I knew trying to squeeze out a post would pile on even more pressure on top of what I was already feeling.

At the same time, I have a strong sense of responsibility that keeps me on track with all the things that I need to accomplish. This has been a very good thing that helped me establish a lot of healthy habits.

Can you tell when you’ve got pressure building up? And do you know when to slow down?
(Photo by Wim van ‘t Einde on Unsplash)

However, I’ve been mindfully reconsidering some of the rules that I’ve made for myself. Missing last week’s post was an opportunity to gently relax my stringent requirements for consistency, since what I really needed was a break.

It felt good to give myself permission to release at least one responsibility. And as soon as I made the decision to take a break for that one Monday, I realized how much my overworked self deserved that tiny bit of grace.

It also reminded me of going through chemo. Several infusions in, once the terror of unknown side effects had ebbed, I found myself relaxing into my chemo seat, knowing that chemo gave me an excuse to release all my “shoulds”. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted nothing to do with chemo and couldn’t wait for my treatment to finally be done. But there was also that strange relief that at least I could use the infusions as a reason for people to not expect too much of me.

It wasn’t until very recently that someone asked me whether I had been burned-out even before my cancer diagnosis. I realized that I had been under so much stress at work with responsibilities at home too, that all the anxiety associated with that was only relieved by getting cancer.

Pause. Breathe.
(Photo by Flash Dantz on Unsplash)

“Relieved by getting cancer”!!! What a ridiculous statement, and yet so true and telling. Sometimes we barrel forwards carrying so much responsibility (and, yes, guilt) that we don’t stop to question whether there’s a way to do this without driving ourselves into the ground.

And that, my friends, is why I’m forcing myself to stop pausing from time to time to reevaluate whether my expectations for myself are reasonable. No, that doesn’t mean practicing “deleterious self-care” that can be harmful–for the record, eating half a box of donuts in bed while binge-watching an entire season of a Netflix series does not qualify as true “self-care”, no matter what Instagram is trying to get you to believe.

Rather, I’m noticing where I am applying pressure on myself in a way that ultimately may have negative effects. It’s all about finding a healthy balance.

And so, there was no post last Monday. My hope for you is that you also take a break when it’s beneficial for you to do so. Have a great week!

Exactly Where You’re Supposed to Be

(Title image: Photo by David Paschke on Unsplash)

Some time ago, I was thinking how I got to where I am and was seized by a sense of regret and shame. This was not where I thought I’d be by this age.

So many things that I’d worked for education-wise, health-wise, career-wise seemed to have been derailed by decisions I’d made based on life circumstances that I didn’t feel I could control…or by just plain bad luck (cancer, I’m looking at you).

As I pondered this, I became enveloped in it, slipping down a dark hole, trying to squash those negative feelings—the ones that get buried for a while only to pop back up at 3am some night.

But then I thought, “Ok, so how about another way of looking at this?”

What if how I am now was the end goal all along?

What if where you are right now is where you need to be for the rest of your life to work out according to plan?
(Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

And that shift in perspective allowed me to look at the things that I felt I hadn’t fully achieved as being “the plan” for creating me as I am now.

And what I am now is made up of the valuable experiences that I was labeling as half-done or poorly-executed or forced upon me—but no, perhaps they were all so necessary for setting up myself in this place with this knowledge. And from here, preparing me to move forward.

A master’s degree I haven’t used for a couple of decades, a job situation that falls below my career aspirations, a body that is limping back from injuries and cancer, a mind that can be my worst enemy. The experience of all of these brings with it wisdom and insight. And strength.

Where I am now is exactly where I need to be for the next chapter of my life. The foundation for future-me has been established.

So, how about you?

What if you spin the timeline around, understanding and appreciating who you are now, however “imperfect” it might seem to you, social media, whomever else serves as the judge of your life. This is now your starting point.

What’s your next step?

How can you take everything that’s come before you and allow it to support the incredible you that you will become?

I Am an Imperfect Yoga Teacher

(Title image: Photo by Cameron Raynes on Unsplash)

A couple of months ago I received an amazing invitation: to teach yoga to cancer survivors at our local Cancer Survivors Day event on June 1st.

What an amazing opportunity! The sole reason that I had gone through yoga teacher training and registered with the Yoga Alliance was to eventually teach cancer survivors. To have this invitation fall into my lap was serendipity at its very finest!

It was also terrifying.

Ever been offered an amazing opportunity and felt like you’re still a little too ‘green’ to handle it?
(Photo by Nagara Oyodo on Unsplash)

My first impulse was to run and hide under the most solid object that I could find. You know, sometimes you have great goals, but you don’t consider what you will do if you actually manage to achieve them. I didn’t feel confident that I was ready for something that had always seemed several years away.

But I still had enought time to prepare for this class. I had taken a specialty 5-hour training on teaching cancer survivors, I had 16 years of maintaining a personal trainer certification with a clinical/academic focus and, importantly, I was a cancer survivor myself. I kinda knew what’s what.

At the same time, I felt a nagging doubt. What if I created a yoga class that people hated? What if someone got injured? What if I couldn’t memorize the sequence, kept stumbling over words or blanked out in the middle of it?

The more I practiced the sequence with friends and family, the more opportunities I had to beat myself up over every time I said “right” instead of “left”. Or said “arm” instead of “hand”. Or anything else that seemed less than perfect. The possibility of looking like a bad teacher and shaming myself opened the door for anxiety to flood my mind.

Nothing quite like thinking you’re not good enough and then proving yourself wrong!
(Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash)

Eventually, I recognized that I was driving myself nuts with unrealistic expectations. I also realized that this is a bad habit that I’ve fallen into on other occasions too. So I took some time to sit quietly and reflect on what was happening.

I am an imperfect yoga teacher. While I try to mirror movements for my students, I mess up once in a while (mirroring can be really hard!). I might not always use the right word to describe a body part. I might forget to mention a cue and then have to stick the instruction in later. I might even forget whether I forgot to say something!

But when the day came to teach to this amazing group of people, my students followed along without a problem. And you know what? After class, they clapped for me. My heart was so full!

I may be an imperfect yoga teacher but maybe that’s okay.

Favorite Calm Things: Snail’s House Ferret Rescue

(Title image: Photo by Steve Tsang on Unsplash)

[NOTE: I am not associated with nor do I get any kickbacks from writing about Snail’s House, Pirate Software or Heartbound (except for a sense of well-being) 🙂 ]

Continuing with my “Favorite Calm Things” series, I have found great pleasure in watching ferrets sleep.

Yes, Snail’s House Ferret Rescue stream (https://www.twitch.tv/ferretsoftware or ferrets.live) has a playtime about once a day where you can watch an amazing bunch of curious ferrets racing about, charging through tubes, sneaking off with little toys, play-fighting and pausing the chaos to indulge in a yummy snack. But in between these playtimes, I find great comfort in watching a large cage of about 15 or so ferrets (just a fraction of the actual ferret population there) cuddle together in hammocks and under mats and snooze away the 18-20 or so hours that they spend sleeping during a 24-hour period.

The cameras are always on. Full color overhead view during playtime and front nightvision as they sleep the rest of the time.

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GHzvcQvaoAAsmVk?format=jpg&name=4096×4096
Photos of a selection of resident ferrets (more have already been added)

This ferret rescue is the forever home for these wiggly noodles, as the facility accepts ailing animals, rescues from bad situations, ferrets who can no longer be cared for by their owners and the like. These ferrets are provided with high quality food, nurturing environment, medical care and proper stimulation…but are never adopted out. Snail’s House is the loving home from which they will ultimately cross the rainbow bridge, comfortable until the end.

Faces like this are difficult to resist (this is not one of Snail’s House’s ferrets, but cute nonetheless).
(Photo by Nikolett Emmert on Unsplash)

This ferret rescue is the pet project of game developer PirateSoftware (https://www.twitch.tv/piratesoftware) led by Jason Thor Hall and exotic vet assistant (and artist) Shaye Rehmel. Due to Thor’s diligent planning and recent explosive success on both Twitch and YouTube, the rescue is ever-expanding, as of this writing home to about 42 ferrets. Ingeniously, Snail’s House is funded by ad revenue from the FerretSoftware stream on Twitch. If you want to support them, all you have to do is tune in to the stream.

This is the only stream where the viewers get excited when ads come on because they know the benefit that advertising funds bring to the furry noodles.

We, the viewers, are the beneficiaries of the ’round-the-clock video because we get to watch the wigglers at any time, day or night. These snoozing ferrets are an anchor that I use to ground myself in the middle of a hectic workday.

For me, watching this stream is a meditation. While there is a varied soundtrack in the background (musical pieces from the Heartbound video game by PirateSoftware), sometimes I find it more peaceful to sit in silence as I watching the little guys sleep, piled up on top of each other. It feels like a perfect pause.

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The rescue is expanding! Snail’s House has moved to a new and larger location and is still in the process of securing fiber internet; until that time, the stream may occasionally be pixelated.

Favorite Calm Things: Bob Ross and “The Joy of Painting”

(Title image: Photo by Ryan Stone on Unsplash)

If you’ve ever seen one of Bob Ross‘ painting shows, you immediately understand why he is magically relaxing.

Bob Ross had an instructional painting series on US Public Television (PBS) in the 80s and 90s, up until his untimely death from complications from lymphoma on July 4, 1985.

He used a wet-on-wet technique with oil paints that allowed him to blend colors on the canvas and he became famous for landscape paintings that he completed within the space of a half-hour video segment. It was amazing watching him work, and even though what he painted wasn’t “high art”, that also wasn’t his purpose. He wanted to remove the intimidation factor from painting and introduce as many people to it as possible.

But it wasn’t just that. Bob was a former master sargeant in the Air Force, a position that required him to be loud and tough, and after he left the service he decided never to raise his voice again. I don’t know whether this story is true, but during his painting shows, Bob used such a calming voice that many would watch just to be soothed by him. It was ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) before ASMR became a “thing”.

Additionally, ever-kind, he would drop positive bits of wisdom and encouragement during his shows. Not in a toxic positive way, but gently, to demystify oil painting and empower his audience. He was known for his “happy little trees” and “there are no mistakes, only happy accidents”.

And who can forget Peapod the Pocket Squirrel. Bob loved not only nature, but also the woodland creatures that inhabited it. He would adopt injured or orphaned animals and raise them until they were ready to live on their own, and then he’d let them go, because they needed to be free.

Bob had such a kind heart and even though some poked fun at him for his gentle demeanor and animal-loving nature (and famous permed afro), so many of us appreciated his abilities and sensibilities.

So why am I writing about him here? Every weekend from Friday at 12pm ET (US) through Monday at 12pm ET, there are marathons of about 4 or so of his seasons (out of 31, which rotate through). These stream on Twitch (@BobRoss) and YouTube (@bobross_thejoyofpainting). We put him on and leave him going, allowing his quiet relaxing voice to waft around our apartment over the weekend.

If you’ve ever needed something to help bring your out of the worries in your head while mesmerizing you with artistic aptitude, Bob’s your guy. Next weekend, put him on and watch for a bit, and you’ll quickly understand what I mean.