Leaning Out - Six Weeks In

My last post was a celebration of my decision to work a new schedule: four days on, ten days off. It was also a send off for myself, into unknown territory. Like all of the big, life-enhancing changes I've made over the years, this one started with a leap of faith. I didn't know for sure if I would still make enough money to cover my bills. I didn't know if I would feel more creative, feel more rested, feel more centered (which is what I hoped). I just knew that what I had been doing wasn't working. I watched my beloved mentor, Robyn thrive in a slow-lane, work-less life. And I decided to join her.

The first two weeks I had off, I felt drawn to home projects - things that I'd put off, some for years. In 2006, I installed shelves in my closet, but didn't have the right tools. So the screws anchoring the shelves in place along one wall were never stable. It was one of those little things that gnawed - not a significant part of my day, but there, annoying, day after day. I fixed that.

I got a sewing machine, tired of hemming by hand, especially as my eyesight changes. Plus, I wanted to make my own COVID masks so the inner lining would be soft and comfy. I ordered anti-microbial fabric for the outer layer and the filtering inner layer. Then I cut up an old, cotton pillow case, washed a thousand times, and used that for the lining. I measured and adjusted for my face size and shape, then my husband's. We have masks now that are so much easier to wear.

I fretted in those two weeks, that I wasn't writing. I've had a book in mind for many years, self help, teaching others what I've learned about self care, what I share with my own clients. I was convinced I had undiagnosed ADD made worse with menopause. I wondered if a little Ritalin or Adderall might help me focus. I wondered if maybe it was time to let go of the idea of writing a book. Maybe it would feel better to stop struggling to get my thoughts onto the page.

Despite the fretting, I honored the promise I made to myself to spend my time off following where my heart led me. I napped. I played video games. I read. I watched British television. I didn't know at the time that I needed those first two weeks to tend to the house projects that had been pulling for my attention, resting and entertaining myself between painting and drilling and sanding. I needed two weeks not to think, but just do the kind of manual labor that leaves you sweaty and happy, because things actually get finished.

I needed time to stop thinking, planning, tracking, and responding to emails, phone calls, and texts. In the quiet that followed, I could see clearly how distracted and fragmented my time had become. No wonder it was hard to focus. I had been like a pinball, pinging from one bumper to another, all the dinging and ringing making it hard to think.

Just before my third stretch of ten days began, I had an online visit with a psychiatrist to help determine whether I really have ADD. My test results had been inconclusive. I might have a very mild case. Not enough to warrant the risk of taking medication. 

In our talk, he wanted to know why focus felt so important now after 56 years of managing life pretty well. I explained I have wanted to write a book about my work. I told him what I've been teaching clients about self love and how it is healing insecurity and anxious attachment wounds for my clients. He was very supportive. He said, "I hope you find I way to get it done. We need that book."

Sometimes, a little encouragement is all it takes. On my next day off, I sat down with Scrivener, a tool I had heard so many good things about - especially for people who need help getting their thoughts organized. I wrote an outline, and turned the headings into chapters. The next day I took all the writing I had done in the past - several beginnings without endings, and I put them in a folder to refer to and draw from. On the third day, I took out my calendar and calculated how many words I would need to write per day to finish a first draft in a year - 400 writing only on my days off. On day four, I wrote the introduction. Days 5-10 I wrote more than 400 words each day - sometimes 600, sometimes 1000. 

When I found myself going off on a tangent, I copied the meandering paragraphs into the "Notes" window, beside the main writing window. I had no worries about losing something important. It now had a home where I could find it later. And then I kept writing. I have never felt so focused before.

Each day I'm not seeing clients, I pick up wherever I left off. I've never been able to do this so consistently before. Scrivener is a big part of it. But bigger are these long blocks of time without interruption, knowing I have auto-responders on every form of communication, so I don't have to check compulsively to see if anyone needs me. I float along these slow moving rivers of time, writing, napping, exercising, cooking, gardening, cleaning, and not much else. 

I feel zero pressure to get anything done because there is plenty of time. I can sew until I finish making my new Ukulele case. Did I mention I got myself a Ukulele to help with some arthritis? No? Oh, well that happened too. 

I can write till my 400 or 1000 words are done. I can walk the neighborhood for an hour or longer when the air quality is good. Or I can pop on a 20-minute YouTube workout if I need to stay inside. I can nap every day - essential as the summer heat lingers into fall, and my hot flashes flare at night.

I don't feel like I have ADD now because there is time to sit with one thing until it is done or until I am at a good stopping point. On the days I see clients, I am utterly present for them. Nothing is pulling at me. I cook up a bunch of food on the Sunday before work starts, so I can grab lunch or snacks on my breaks. I have time to take care of myself in ways I didn't even know I needed before.

Today I checked my total word count in Scrivener, 14,684 words completed. I expect the first draft will be between 80,000 and 120,000, so I'm more than a tenth of the way in. And it feels easy so far.

I don't think I'm alone. I think most of us feel scattered and fragmented between the demands of work and family. I think we are so tired that when we have time off, all we can do is stare into a screen, reaching for the dopamine hit of likes and hearts or falling into the rabbit hole of the latest political shit show. I think we are tired and lonely for our very own company. I think we have become afraid to listen to our own thoughts, knowing we might find out just how exhausted and dissatisfied and utterly off track we feel. 

I know you may not have the same choices I have - to schedule your time as you might need to. Our society is not structured for the wellbeing of its members. We still live in a world of vasselage - working according to precepts developed to keep the coffers of kings and lords filled - though the kings and lords today are called CEO's and shareholders.

By living differently, I hope I am doing more than just taking care of my own self. I hope I am gently fomenting rebellion. It doesn't have to be so hard. We really don't need more stuff. We need more time, more connection, more kindness, more slowness.

Be gentle with yourselves, my loves.

Living with the Frenemy: Two Weeks into Quarantine for COVID-19

Some experts predict a mini baby-boom in nine months. If you are one of the fortunate who is enjoying lots of delicious couple time while sequestered, bless you.

But even the most connected may begin to feel strain - especially since we just found out yesterday the quarantine in the Bay Area has been extended from 2 weeks to 6. Oy vey.

For a lot of people - especially the introverts who now have people inside their houses 24-7 - all the togetherness is a bit much. As one of my clients put it,

"It's not that they're doing anything wrong; it's that they're breathing."

Other irritations I'm hearing:

• I'm working from home, and people keep coming into my space to see if I want anything. What I want is for them to stay the f@ck out of my room!
• My kids are bouncing off the walls. Literally. I was working, and I hear this loud crash. My youngest thought he could use the back of the couch like a tightrope. Of course, the couch fell over. Luckily no one was hurt. I was so furious though. I told them, I will not take either of you to the ER until the virus is under control. If you break a bone, it's just going to heal crooked (of course, I would take them to the doctor if anything happened). Now I feel terrible. Am I a bad mother?
• I have taken my dog for so many walks, she hides now when I get the leash. I just need a break from everyone. As soon as this ends, I'm taking a vacation by myself!

It's so hard to be human. We like to think we're tough and can handle anything. But the truth is, we are exquisitely sensitive creatures. We like our routines. For all the talk of needing relationships to be happy, what we really need is the right balance of connection and alone time. And each of us falls on a spectrum, so what feels balanced for me, might be torture for you.

If you are one of those who is getting a little fed up with hearing other people breathe, know you're not alone. If you're a parent and you want to get away from your kids, you're not a terrible mom or dad.

Alone time is essential to our sense of well-being - especially for adults. It's when we process the events of the day and make sense of our lives. It's when we check-in with ourselves, noting our emotional temperature and stress level, so we can practice self-care. Alone time is when we can finally hear ourselves think, so we can plan, dream, and find the flow of our creativity.

So it's important to set kind boundaries with the people who love us, who want our attention, who are very loud breathers.

Some tips to remember:

1. Don't shame or blame, after all, they need to breathe.
2. Do explain that "I am the kind of person that..." Fill in the blank with your need, for example, "I'm the kind of person that needs a good hour of quiet time first thing in the morning and again around 4pm to hear myself think."
3. Do ask for help instead of demanding or complaining. "Would you guys help me?"
4. Do ask them for their ideas, "Can you help me come up with some ways I can get that alone time while we're all in the same house?"
5. Do thank them for helping, for remembering, for reminding you. Let them see that their help is making a difference. 

Remember that boundaries can feel like rejection to others, so using the steps above, the goal is to protect the connection and love while getting some much needed space.

Hopefully this will help my fellow introverts get some breathing room!

May you and the ones you love stay safe and healthy through this bizarre moment in history!

The Life Sucking Tragedy of Too Much Access

Something miraculous happened while I was on vacation. After several days of using phone GPS to get around in our rental car, streaming music, and uploading photos to our social media accounts, we got a text from our carrier saying we were nearly out of data. Did we want to buy more? Text Yes or No.



As if we shared a brain, we both knew the answer would be No. And for the rest of the trip, we chilled the f@ck out. We stopped going everywhere and doing all the things. We went to the beach and swam. We took long walks at dusk. We ate leisurely meals. We read books. It was like vacation used to be - relaxing.


For about a year now, I've been having conversations with clients about how much we have to track now, from multiple different passwords to which texts and emails need a response, to the milestones and deadlines of work projects, to the likes and follows we give (or hope to receive) online, to managing our children's activities and assignments, to tending to our friends and romantic partners, to (especially if you are over, say, 45) tending our own bodies.

Are you exhausted reading that last paragraph? I just re-read it, and I am!

There is also another fear you may not be aware of. A great many of us have a fear of down time. Because if we really do unplug and breathe, we might feel. We might feel how exhausted and overwhelmed we are. We might feel that underlying discontent about something (or someone) that feels so scary to address.

All the busy-ness becomes a way we ignore or tune out from our emotional world - and the needs that our emotions are designed to signal. By tuning out, we may be abandoning ourselves emotionally. We may be unconsciously re-creating the emotional abandonment or neglect we felt as kids. Ouch.

If you are on the road to practicing Healthy Secure Adulting, it may be time for your inner parent to some set limits. Because this can be scary and painful, you might not want to dive into the deep end. I don't recommend two weeks of silent meditation as a first step. But maybe you can designate an hour or even 30 minutes one day a week to unplug and listen inward.

It may help to remind yourself that you don't have to do anything but listen. You don't have to fix anything. Your main mission, at least for now, is to keep yourself company while you feel how you feel. Nice company. Kind, friendly, compassionate company. Your inner critic is not needed for this task.

Notice how it feels to offer yourself company without any other agenda. If sadness, fear, pain or anger come up, practice breathing into them. Imagine putting an arm around yourself. See how it feels to just validate the feeling - "Given my history/circumstances, it makes so much sense I feel this way."

When you get in touch with your feelings, a soreness may linger for hours or days after. See if you can just let it happen. When you notice it, be that kind, supportive company for a moment or two. In this way, you may build tolerance for your own emotions and ease yourself out of the feeling-phobia endemic in our culture.

Gradually, over time, you may listen and just be with your feelings more often. As you do this, the abandonment/neglect end. Eventually, you may want to address the messages your feelings are sending - in gentle and kind ways.

It may just be that in limiting the access you have to tech (and the access tech gives the world to your time), you discover more opportunities to relax, to slow down, to enjoy the moment. That's good too. It's really good.

Need practical tools/ideas for reducing access?

• Filter all your email accounts through gmail to reduce spam.
• Take 10 minutes each week to unsubscribe from all the things.
• Set up an auto-responder on your email and an outgoing voicemail telling the world you are unplugged and will respond in X days. 
• Turn off your phone, all the way off!
• If anyone complains they can't reach you, practice saying, "I unplug from X day/time to X day/time every week. I will respond when I'm back online." People will adapt.
• Designate certain days or hours "screen free."
• Spend time outside if the weather permits and look at the world instead of a screen.
• Lay down with your eyes closed for ten minutes or more and just let your mind wander. If you wander into work thoughts, planning, or fixing, gently nudge yourself into something else. You might take the time to feel your feelings. Or you might fantasize about the perfect vacation, or meal, or who you would want to visit if you had a time machine.

We are not built to be "on" all the time. Down time is essential to restore our energy and creativity. Out of doing lots of nothing come some of the best ideas. Trust that doing less will create more richness in your relationship with yourself. And as you become more available to your own feelings and needs, your inner children will come to trust you (and like you) more and more.

Please DON'T Suck it Up, Buttercup

April 5, 2019...

We live in a kind of a crazy (and crazy-making) culture - one that encourages us to be productive all the time, at any cost. Tired? Drink coffee or Red Bull, take a shower, hit the gym. Don’t rest! For god's sake, don’t nap!

Hitting a wall with work? Take a course on motivation. Meet with a coach. Push through. Suck it up, buttercup.

Procrastination is a sign of weakness. Lazy is a four letter word.

We are so indoctrinated into this way of thinking, we may not stop to question the truth of these notions - or their effectiveness - or their sustainability.

I used to be an over-doer. Fueled by fears I was barely aware of, I worked all the time. I didn’t realize I was working myself into exhaustion or repetitive stress injuries until my body finally screamed (in pain), STOP!

I was so lucky to be working with my beloved therapist and mentor, Robyn, who had walked a similar path herself. She helped me understand that it doesn’t have to be this way (quote on going slowly).

Over time, I have learned to trust my body’s rhythms. If work isn’t coming easily, it usually means I need to rest - even if I’ve been resting! I might just need more.

I’ve learned that procrastination is about getting ready, something good is percolating, and I can trust that it will emerge at the right time.

Lazy doesn’t exist. It’s a negative label we give to fatigue, lack of interest, or the need to take a break and just play or putter.

Over the last few months, I haven’t felt engaged with the work of writing my course on Healthy Secure Adulting. I had one deadline to meet, and I made it. But it wasn’t fun. I am taking classes to learn how to create engaging, effective online training. But it’s been feeling like a slog to get through the work. I began to worry that I’ve forgotten how to teach - something I have loved and done well for nearly 17 years!

So I have given myself permission to put it all down for a while. I’ve been walking in nature, enjoying the wildflower show courtesy of a rainy spring. I’ve been writing poems with my friend, Wendy, in what is now an annual tradition for us - national poetry writing month, in which we each write a poem a day for thirty days. I’ve been napping and watching my favorite old TV shows.

And this morning, all the tiredness and too-busyness and brain fog I’d been having completely lifted. I wrote the first four sections of my course on boundaries in less than an hour. It came easily. I was able to integrate the information I’ve learned about online course development. And it was fun.

All this to say, if you’re tired, rest. If you’re bored, do something that feeds you. If you’re feeling unproductive, stop trying to push through. Play. Read a book. Watch TV. Do nothing. Fully give yourself over to letting go. Trust that as your body and psyche receive the care they need, they will revive. And you will return to anything you feel a true desire to create or accomplish from a place of excitement and energy - instead of stress or obligation.