Changes Are A Coming

My firstborn graduated from high school in May.  This is something both very exciting and exquisitely bittersweet all at once.  Our bird is flying the nest.  It's such a cliche but it's my cliche now, up close and personal.   I have worked really, really hard to make it the best nest possible.  I made an intention very early on in regards to my offspring to be emotionally present for them.  I didn't even know what that meant, I just knew I needed to be emotionally connected.  I ended up looking at patterns in my life and worked to change the ones that weren't helpful.  I wanted my girls to know, I was on their side, and had their back and they could talk to me.  Every human being longs to have connection with someone who sees them and hears them...just as they are even if they are not on the same page. 

What I didn't expect was along the way, I would learn how to care for my own self. 

I am learning how to do be present for myself, to listen to the divine intuition that is a magnificent guide for how to proceed.  It can be just a small flicker of a thought that registers for but a second, and I have learned over time...LISTEN TO IT.  Lean into it. 

In my head, I very much want my eldest daughter to gain her independence as she moves six hours away but for my heart, this departure has been unfathomable for years.   Watching a movie or tv scene of the drop off at college has ripped me to pieces. 

So now it's our turn. 

From the very beginning, to bring Riley into the world, we struggled.  It was a two year journey which included horrendous fertility treatments.   We finally succeeded, and then we brought our bundle of joy home and I went off the deep end.  My postpartum depression was not only unbearable sadness but relentless anxiety.  Anxiousness permeated every thought and decision and it was never ending.  It was a very rough few months and the pictures where I smiled betrayed what was really going on.  There are moments of time that are hardened in my mind as the worst of my life and it was during this period.  

I eventually sought help and began coming out of it.  (I didn't know how to clearly communicate and ask for help) The first night of taking an anti-depressant was one of those.  I didn't sleep at all (which was already a problem) and for hours truly thought that I was going to have to be hospitalized and the baby was going to be taken away. 

The pervasive loneliness, isolation and feelings of losing my mind slowly lessened but it has stayed with me.  When I think of that time, the pain is easily brought to the surface. 

As a baby, Riley was my constant and the learning of unconditional love.  It was the two of us twenty four hours a day, seven days a week with George popping in every now and then.   I was her meal ticket and it seemed to never end.  She looked to me for everything and I wanted to learn how to do "that."  In the beginning I faked smiled and singsonged through it.  And over the years through much hard work,  the fake smile became genuine.  With therapy, I began learning who I was, how to be in the moment, and how to feel everything that came my way.  I learned that feelings are not who I am, and they are energy that will flow if you allow them.  

The letting the energy flow has been one of the hardest skills to learn. 

In this past year, I'm learning with some very intense therapy to be caring and nurturing towards all my deeply seeded parts of pain and anxiety.   I am going back and addressing times of trauma that are imprinted in my soul.  Trauma doesn't have to be a horrific one time event.  It is something that gets trapped in your psyche because you did not know how to handle the situation at hand.  And each person handles the same life situations differently.   In therapy, long forgotten scenes pop in my mind that made a lasting impression.  These times are the foundation for my emotional muscle memory.  This is what I act out of every day.   "The Body Keeps The Score" book by Dr. Bessel van der Kolk has been one of my sources to understand how deeply embedded events in our lives end up affecting us for life. 

Some of those moments I can still picture in my head from our old house are when Riley was a baby and I felt utterly helpless, alone and teetering on the brink.  Over and over and over again, I didn't think I was going to survive.  Through my therapist, I am processing these times with all the skills that I have now.  It is a reconciling that I never knew I needed but has been so powerful.  Slowly these feelings don't terrify me as they did in the past. 

But now...my eldest is venturing off.  The child inside of me feels like she will be overwhelmed and decimated by this loss, if I label it a loss.   I am grieving her evolving to a new stage of life and I know I am not alone.  She will still need me, but it is in a new and different way than the last eighteen years.  She will not be in our home.  She will not be in my physical presence everyday and her room will be empty.  

{Time out for crying.}  

 The pain energy will move through, the crying jags will recede. Life will change and we will adjust.  At times, this summer, as we don't see things eye to eye, I have moments where I think, oh my gosh, yes, it's time and then I quickly move back to, I am going to miss her like the dickens. 

On her end, my eldest is both excited and scared as well. Coming out of the crazy pandemic which rocked
her last two years of high school and Italy trip (!) this structure loving girl is ready to establish a new routine in her new place.  She is discombobulated once again and has lots to do to get ready to move on.  She needs my help.  It turns my stomach sometimes as I engage in college virtual seminars and then I talk to the scared part and it passes.  I am working to be present for her as much as possible while tending to my own needs.  It's not pretty at all and it's not photogenic. 

Yet, this is THE new learning curve.   Both/and.  Both being present for her AND myself. 

We can do hard things.  We have done hard things and we can do them again. 

We will both survive, and thrive and there may be dips and valleys along the way, but that is life. 

Namaste. 

Feelings, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa Feelings

In lower and middle school, I took piano lessons.  When I quit lessons, there were just a few remaining songs that I could sit down and play by memory.  "The Rose", "You Light Up My Life" and "Feelings" were the emotional songs that I sat down and belted out every word.  I think there was a Barry Manilow in the repertoire as well, of course! {giggle}

I'm finding the irony of how enamored I was with those heart wrenching sentimental songs and where I am now.  I have come full circle.

Somewhere along the way from childhood on and most especially after a terrible bout of Postpartum Depression, I shut down allowing myself to experience a full range of feelings or what I like to now call by the proper name of energy.  Feelings are just energy, plain and simple.  Society and those persons closest to us, tell us not to cry, not to be angry and ignore the anxiety and Just Do It.  It's both a natural reaction to cry but also it seems to try and stop someone from having an emotional catharsis.  How many times have you seen someone apologize for making someone cry or apologize for crying oneself and then making a joke about it?  It can go to the extreme though, as a good portion of America now numbs itself with compulsions or addictions.  Nowadays, there are more compulsions that you can shake a stick at.  The old standards are still there: alcohol, drugs, gambling, food, cleaning, exercising and newer ones with that have crept in with technology, all so we can avoid ourselves and the emotional energy that naturally comes up in life.  We are turning away from ourselves (and the Divinity within).  And it takes a lot of practice to turn towards oneself again.

For years, I have been listening to a marvelous teacher named Mary O'Malley, a therapist in Washington State.  In interviews, videos, and articles, Ms. O'Malley states that in essence befriending and being curious with the compulsion is the way through, not trying to fight it head on but rather using curiosity and compassion.

Curiosity and compassion towards myself? Are you kidding? How contradictory is this to the message from the diet industry which owns my compulsion:  restrict, and deny yourself through eating.   As then there is the Western mentality of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps and white knuckling through whatever. 

I have been missing the curiosity and compassion component for years even though I had heard of it. I had no idea of how to do it.  I figured out I needed to feel my feelings so I started gutting myself through all of them.  I learned that anger is a sign that boundaries are being tread on and so I took different actions with certain people.   I faced anxiety and deep sadness head on.  I cried buckets, and sat with discomfort that I wanted to escape from more than anything.  A true bonus though, was learning that joy was in this mix of energy too.  I began to feel utter joy from simple encounters with my family, friends and nature because when you turn away and numb, you numb everything.

What Ms. O'Malley points out is that we judge our energy (feelings) and that keeps us in the vicious cycle.

I JUDGE MYSELF FOR HAVING THE ENERGY THAT COMES!

I'm screaming this because I need that to sink in as I practice acceptance. 

She describes four kinds of movements in regards to energy.  The first is anger that I'm not getting what I want.  The second is fear and I'm getting what I don't want.  The third is despair/sadness that I will never get what I want.  Lastly, Mary says the glue that holds them all together is judgement.

We want to escape the anger, sadness, fear and we try to think ourselves out of the shame, guilt and whatever else is associated with it.  In my head, I think so very many derogatory thoughts of myself.  Why am I feeling this way, no one else is?  I need to get over this.  I am so pitiful.  What can't I be stronger, etc. etc.  I beat myself up.  Let's just pile it on. That will make things better. NOT.

Ms. O'Malley does a brilliant in depth explanation of the next step and more in her book, The Gift of Our Compulsions, if you are so inclined.  I had a simple event recently that highlighted the act of compassion towards myself.  I know Mary knows what she is talking about but knowing and experiencing the phenomena are two completely different things.  Both of my kids went off in different directions for the first week of summer.  Four years ago on a Sunday,  I watched Mallory drive off on a bus towards camp, a destination 6 hours away for the first time, and I cried uncontrollably.  I couldn't contain it, and I couldn't pull it together to attend church.  Four years later, we were going to church on another Sunday, yet Mallory was already gone to Texas and we were going to be bringing Riley to catch the bus for a weeklong mission trip. As I got dressed that morning, I immediately experienced a strong wave of "I've got to cry" sadness.

And then something brilliant happened if I do say so myself.  In that wave, I immediately accepted the fact that I was going to cry my eyes out and deemed that it was okay.  NO BIG DEAL. I packed up makeup to refresh myself so that I could go to church.  And I went on with my morning and the sad wave of energy passed.

I didn't resist the energy, or judge it.  I know how much I love my girls and I'm watching them grow up and be independent, which I didn't learn until my forties.  Four years ago,  I was probably crying for my own self who was scared of everything and transferring it to Mallory. She was totally fine and excited. But it doesn't matter why I cried.  This time,  I ACCEPTED IT.  My goal here is self acceptance and love.

Energy comes and goes. Learning compassion and curiosity towards myself, opens my heart to those around me and in the world.  It's my new practice.

Feelings, whoa, whoa, whoa feelings.  Again in my heart.

Namaste.

Putting the Air Mask on First

During Christmas break, I tend to lose my marbles when the kids are home 24/7.  It's just the way it goes.  And every year, I forgot that this will occur, and finally after 13 years as a mom, I'm starting to catch on.    I get cranky, short-tempered and yearn for any adult conversation at Easter, Mardi Gras, Thanksgiving and Summer Vacation.  During this past Christmas break,  putting the air mask on first, what airlines tell you to do in preflight demonstration before you put the mask on your child, resonated with me big time.

It really sunk in.

It is one thing to have intellectual knowledge of a notion or idea it is another to put it in practice. (And for it to go well.)
I have read and talked about many parenting ideas that I know are right from an intellectual standpoint
yet putting ideas that I recognize to be good in practice requires much discomfort.

I saw an incremental change during the last school break. On the spur of the moment, I decided to go to yoga and leave the ten year old with the thirteen year old (and the ferocious guard dog and the alarm system on!)  The ten year old DOES NOT LIKE staying at home with the thirteen year old.   The thirteen year old who herself has Red Cross certification and one babysitting experience under her belt, DOES NOT WANT a sitter anymore. So what's standing in my way, is the beloved heart and nerves of a ten year old.  (On this particular occasion, my husband was able to leave later for work, and off I ran.)

But this time, I was going for it, no matter what.  Even though it made my ten year old uncomfortable, I wanted and needed to go.  In the past, I would have hedged back and forth, the child would have seen that I was hesitant and they would have gone for the jugular for me to do what they wanted.

The practice of yoga, feeds my soul and works out my body.   I feel refreshed, renewed, and mindful afterwards.  It is exactly what I needed to take on the rest of the day and school break.  And it hit me that this is what it means to put the air mask on first, because then you are better able to handle what comes your way.   This was actually practicing that idea with one caveat.

I would do things before that were FOR ME but I would feel GUILTY over it and WORRY the entire time.  This was one time, I walked away and left my worries at home and focused on myself for an entire hour.

It was almost better than an orgasm.

And it lasted longer.

I came home from yoga, went straight to Mallory and said, "I know you didn't want me to go and I appreciate your cooperation, I really love to practice yoga and it makes me feel really good" (...Laying the foundation for future yoga sessions)

And the kicker is this act of putting the air bag on first is teaching my children to take care of themselves.  Losing my mind and being short tempered, is not how I want to love my children or myself.

Taking care of me, helps me take care of them AND most importantly they learn from watching what I do.  Not what I say.  What I do.

My Name is Carolyn and I'm a Knowledge Clutterer

I took a quiz after watching my favorite cleaning guru, Peter Walsh on Rachel Ray.  And this was my result below.   Ha ha!!  Not surprising at all.  I have gotten really good at decluttering but the area I have the most trouble with is…

Paper.  

I have many, many books, and I do have binders and notebooks from college.  I have ripped the band aid off and recycled magazines.  I learned to let them go.  I knew the article that I hadn't read would come around again.  

My desk in the kitchen area is my most shameful spot.  I can't manage the paper flow in my household.  I have often wondered why is it so hard to let go of the box of paper underneath the desk.  I so want to have a clear vision and this is BLOCKING me.  Well, it's my soft spot.  I may just have to accept this is who I am.  

But I don't want to.

More work to be done.

You’re a Knowledge Clutterer

Stockpiles every book she has ever read or hopes to read and or every issue of Architectural Digest ever published – believing that if she owns the book, she’ll inherit the knowledge; has a full anthology of their college textbooks and binders and keeps them to remember the glory days. Mail has been left in stacks to look at “later”.

Classic Knowledge Clutters: 
Book club members; enthusiasts of coffee-table books; and post-college grads with an English major.

Beach, Body Image, Bathing Suits, Yoga, Mirrors and More

“The unhappiest people in this world, are those who care the most about what other people think.” ― C Joybell C

Right between the eyes.

I was blessed to go to yoga while we were at the beach.  I make it to a yoga class about once, maybe twice a month.  I hope to go more often when school starts again.  This room that yoga was practiced in had mirrors on the wall.  This is good and not so good.  It helps to look at alignment but then I also catch glimpses of my body that startle me and can send me on a body image nosedive.

I caught a glimpse of my extra fleshiness and it threw me into a tailspin.  I think at first I want to deny these feelings of sadness and intellectualize them out and avoid the pain - also called "mentally meddling" and inhibits the feelings from flowing through.  Perhaps because it was vacation, I kept eating beyond feeling full.  The food called to me and I couldn't stop.  Which had the affect of helping the nosedive to go even further down.

Being at the beach, I was thinking about my body size a little bit more. Strapping on a swim suit doesn't bother me as much as it did in the past but what I do find myself doing is looking at other people and think, "How do they do it?  How do they stay slim?"

And that is not the right question, because....

Looking and thinking about other people's bodies is not going to transform my world experience!

I love that saying.  My true journey in life is to transform my world experience from fear to love.  This is what makes me so excited.  I feel the presence of God when I follow this passion of wholeness.

After I have let the sadness of my imperfect body pass, I am once again able to see that weight does not equal self worth. I can live a full life in an imperfect body.  It may take a day or two but the feelings pass and I can get on with living.

And the above C Joybell C quote came along right after my experience at the beach.

Right between the eyes.

~Namaste~

Scuff Marks and Struggle

While we were at the beach last week, we hit an outlet mall and found new tennis shoes for school for the girls.  The size we bought for Riley was a half size smaller than what I wear. (Oh my!)

As she strode on a path in the shoes towards her father on another bench, I had a vivid ten year old memory pop in my head.  It was her toddling for the first time in her Stride Rite high tops on the driveway of our first house.

It was such a precious memory.  I also remember that the shoes were immediately scuffed up within minutes of wearing them - and that bothered me.  And as I pulled out the pictures, I also see that huge smile on her face.  Therein lies my lesson.

As humans, we are wired to struggle (and scuff our shoes!)  I am in the middle of listening to Mary O'Malley, a fantastic compulsive behavior therapist, and she repeated this notion of struggle (and letting go of control!)   It is also what my therapist has told me many, many times. We are born wired to struggle.  When I first started therapy, I wanted to come to a place of peace, and yet that place does not exist.  It has taken many years to understand that and I will continue to grasp this lesson again.  But today, I get it.

Riley started her middle school career today.   And as I see that excitement when she was a toddler taking her first steps, what brings out her smile the most, is trying new things and stepping out away from her parents.  And she is going to struggle and that is okay. My first instinct is to not have her feel pain and while George and I caught her before she fell at the toddler stage.  I have to learn to let her fall at this ten year (and beyond!) stage.  And pain is a part of life.  And emotional pain won't kill us as I have always thought it would - it can flow through if allowed to.   And we grow from those falls and mistakes. We do not learn anything from the things we do right.

So, the shoes will get scuffed, and she will learn.  My shoes get scuffed on a daily basis, and I learn.  I want her to know that she can handle whatever comes her way even if it is a struggle.  And letting her fall, and move away from us, and gain her independence prepares her for real life much more than stopping the pain.