Who am I? You don’t need a ten day silent retreat in Joshua Tree to answer this question. It is answered real time in the instances where you are at the end of your rope or at the finish line, and a thought comes like an itch you have to scratch. I hate this. I am angry. It is a crisis. For me, wanting to throw my lap top across the room in a stressful editing deadline for my book. I got to ask, is that really me? Only to find I was simply tired but I loved what I was doing and just had to take a two hour break, and then go right back. The, this deadline sucks, I can’t do it is someone else in my head.
When you ask who am I? and you are in a place to do the work, you understand you don’t have that anger, impatience or sabotaging belief about yourself anymore. In the past, I would’ve acted on that anger, but in the pause, I saw the imprinting from watching how those who raised me dealt with their stuff. I took the moment to ask is that me? and what lies underneath that question is part of my original makeup. I had assumed that my behavior was me instead of patterns and history. What we find when we explore a pattern, is a new truth, a gentler path and feelings we can acknowledge but then let them pass so we can get on with what we want to accomplish.
Heavy for a Sunday morning? Hell yeah! I pondered this all day yesterday as I climbed a mountain I have been climbing for twenty years. Many times this hike is challenging but satisfying. Yesterday, I just flat out hated parts of it, and I wanted to be angry and yell and scream. Why is it so hard? The new me I am becoming knows that some times mountains are harder than others to climb and therefore, one foot in front of the other can lead to me having the victory I want, which is to sit on the big rock at the top and gaze out over the ocean. I got there, legs screaming, and on the way home as I happily drank my Black iced tea from Starbucks, I knew I had climbed that mountain as a far different person than ever before. I did it in my terms, not the terms and messages of all the people who were once in my head.
I had a second chance with historical financial messaging recently. My daughter is applying to 20 colleges for which each needs a FAFSA (the Federal Aid report.) I had been a diligent student, getting the books on financial aid and watching the webinars. When I submitted the FAFSA on the day it opened to be in line for the most aid, all instructions said submit your first ten schools and when those are submitted, you can delete them and add your next ten. I was like, this feels bad to me already. Why the system makes parents only able to do ten at a time, and then delete them seems like premeditated parental torture. My daughter applied ED to Brown University and a week later, we found out they never got the FAFSA, which had me investigate and find out all the schools on the first ten list didn’t get them. I felt that rush of shame and stress but immediately flashed back to all the times my family had hysteria over money. The lights will get turned off, the china is broken, the house is burning! I said, is that reaction style me? I determined it wasn’t. I didn’t want to sit in front of my desk on Friday night going No no no, and pounding my chest. Instead I vented for two minutes to my co-parent, emailed Brown, dealt with it, and realized we can deal with it one school at a time. So I tried to be ahead of the curve, and it didn’t work. Oh well. Nothing was in peril, no one was dying. I had a great weekend, and sat in the peace that was me.
As you walk into the new you, shedding what you learned in your life, you are going to live in such a state of peace. Far better than any long meal or sleeping in. It is the gold.
If You Are Looking To Do Some Writing:
Last night I didn’t want to work on my book proposal. I had just been in a glorious day of self-care, it was dark by 4 PM and I wanted to watch Netflix. A voice inside me said, it’s the weekend. It’s Saturday night. You don’t have to write. Why do you think you have to write. Knowing I am not currently dating and that my kids were at their dads was having a strange effect on me. I was feeling kind of alone and a bit confused how I was so by myself on a Saturday night. Then I realized what a gift that was. I was alone on a cozy dark Saturday night and I could write. I wrote about that empowered state, and helped my brain to understand, writing alone on a Saturday night was not a curse, but a gift. I choose to be a writer. No one is forcing me. So I made a deal with myself… write for two hours and I could watch the first two shows of Season 5 of The Crown. It worked!
What I Wish Someone Would Create:
A way for me to know what the dogs constantly barking in my neighborhood are saying. Thinking they are like the dogs in the 101 Dalmations only works as cute for so long. I intuitively know they are speaking, and not just out to make my life miserable, but I would love to hear what they have to say. If it is “Here is the postman but in daylight savings he looks like a lurking criminal,” that would be incredible. We are doing it with Pixar and Disney. How about a real world translator. But then again, it would be probably the sounds of all these crazy people yelling, so that may not be better.
My Moment With Door Dash (a special edition story):
There is no story. Just use it instead of spending all your precious time you could be writing, creating, loving, meditating, walking, and relaxing to go to the pet store and get cat pee spray. I was a staunch opposer to the cost of Door Dash until I tried it the other day for a cat mishap and let me tell you, that $7 was worth every penny.
Shameless Plug:
A one time only announcement! I am holding a ONE DAY Writing for Clarity November 19th from 2-5PM PST. Get your deeper understanding of what you want to write about in 2023. Stop the procrastination and hiding. Lean into who you are who invests in yourself, your writing and your craft. Spaces will go quick. CLICK HERE.