Sit With It

Are you overwhelmed by stress? Do you feel frustrated, sad, scared, hopeless or some mix of these elements? You don’t have to fix it. Try SWIT: sit with it.

It’s my new philosophy. I used to rush in so hard to every emotion, situation, relationship or problem I faced. I had the solution, dammit, and I’d make it fit no matter what.

One of the great benefits of getting older is not giving so many shits about what isn’t actually my business. And even when it is my business, I’m not God and I often can’t see the forest for the trees, so when I hurry a fix to a complicated issue, I’m making it worse instead of better.

Try it. Simply sit with what is bugging you.

Weight

Feel fat? So do I. Rather than obsessing or shaming or radically changing your diet or exercise plan, just sit with it for a little while. Allow it to be near you. Notice why it bothers you. Don’t fix it. Sit with it.

It works like meditation does: by slowing down and cutting across the mental noise we experience every day. Ever notice how much bigger and harder something seems when you are trying not to focus on it? The SWIT plan invites the worry, person, concept or problem in rather than forcing it out.

Speak gently to the areas that bother you the most. Allow your fear to come and sit with you. Offer it a place (let’s be honest, it has one anyway, and when you don’t acknowledge the terror it only takes up more of your mental space) and show it some grace and love. You don’t have to interact with it or make it disappear. Soothe it. Breathe through it until you achieve a bit of comfort with it so close to you.

This idea of sitting with what makes me uncomfortable has really moved the needle forward on my ability to love myself. It’s given me a practical way to extend care to my wounded heart. I’m working on loving my body, exactly as it is right now, thirty pounds more than I want it to be, and simply sitting with it and offering no judgement or solutions has been so freeing.

Technology

Most of us live like scared rabbits in 2017. Technology has taken over and we are held tightly in its iron fist. Turning off our digital devices requires a heroic amount of courage. Many times I fail to do what I long to do (hit the off button). I’m practicing SWIT with my technology, too. The addiction is so big – too far gone to fix it with one simple measure. Breathing, closing my eyes and inviting my dependence on my technology to be near me is enough for now.

People

When I struggle with another person, I’m trying to use the SWIT idea to bring them near. Alone, I summon them in a soft voice and tell them why I’m hurt or upset. I practice wishing them well and extending the type of care and affection I have no problem offering to those I love.

I speak in a reassuring voice, saying, “It will be all right. We’re going to make it through this.” I know that this is for me and not for them, but it helps to smooth out the rough edges in our next interaction. While I’m sitting with people who bug me, I also remember to remind myself that I’m not responsible for their side of our relationship – only mine.

When we acknowledge what frightens us, we immediately loosen its grip. Bring it slowly into the light. Break the secrecy and the shame that blooms in the dark like a fungus. Anything that hurts you, learn to sit with it until you can begin to work with it.

Baby steps are required. But strength comes when we talk openly about what matters, what injures our souls, what steals our precious time, attention and resources. I’m learning to sit with the hard stuff, without giving in to the pressure I feel to have the answers and the solutions. Anyone joining me in my mission to SWIT?

How to Talk to Kids About our World

How do we talk to our kids about the raging mess that is our current world? A place where young girls are blown up at a concert, rights for women, the poor and immigrants are being stripped away by governments and elected politicians lie routinely about every damn thing under the sun. It’s dark out there, but glossing over it with our kids is not the answer.

Depending on the age of your children, these suggestions may have to be adapted, but the principles remain the same whether you have a preschooler, a tween or an almost-adult about to leave home.

How do we talk to our kids about the world? Here are my best ideas:

Honesty.

Evading, hiding and deflecting are strategies that don’t work. If you are anxious about the news (and if you feel chill and at ease about the world in 2017, you likely aren’t paying close enough attention), your children are, too. If you don’t talk about current events honestly with your kids, they will hear something at school or on the playground or at your in-laws’ barbecue and without some careful context provided by you, your kids are likely to feel way more upset by what they hear because it will carry the added power of secrecy with it.

It’s normal to worry about scaring them unnecessarily or getting your explanation wrong. You may do both but go ahead and talk to them anyway. Build that trust. Plant the seeds for a compassionate response. Know that scary situations are best borne together with the ones you love.

Questions.

Encourage questions. Ask things like, “Why do you suppose she believes that? What do you think will happen as a result of this world event? How do you feel when we talk about this?”

Questions are a beautiful entity. They help children understand that grownups may not have all of the answers, but they are willing to ask hard questions and pool a sense of knowledge for the greater good. Questions also provide a safe route to the hidden nooks and crannies in our hearts. They help us feel less isolated and alone.

Optimism.

This one is tough right now, but it’s important not to leave the discussion with a bleak sense that all hope is lost. Our kids are looking to us to be their lighthouse. We cannot allow them to dash against the rocks in the dark. It’s our job to be open and candid, but also to dig deep and put an optimistic spin on even the saddest, most desperate news story.

Try something alone these lines: “I know this is scary. I feel sad and worried, too. But I know that I am strong and capable and so are you. We will always stick together and show as much love and kindness and compassion to ourselves and to others as possible, and we will be okay.”

I truly wish we had a better state of current affairs so these conversations would be easier. But every one of us must play the cards we are dealt and model this courage to our children. It’s no good denying, hiding, distracting, blaming. Like the greatest heroes in history who have inspired us, it’s time to bravely meet circumstances as they are, with our kids beside us, and change the world by changing ourselves.

Excess is Killing Us

I went to the U2 Joshua Tree 2017 concert in Vancouver on Friday night. Not because I wanted to, but Jason had never been able to get tickets in his younger years and always had a burning desire to see them perform live. Supportive wife that I am, I agreed to go with him for a birthday present.

From what I’ve read, this tour is a scaled-down show for U2 compared to some of their previous tours, but I found it overwhelmingly high-tech, expensive and over the top when it came to lights, screens and effects (admittedly, I attended Christian concerts in my youth with the likes of Michael W. Smith, Steve Green and Amy Grant so I’m not a connoisseur of rock music and I’m a true Granny at heart when it comes to noise and spectacle).

As a culture, we seem to crave endless entertainment. But when is it enough? If we are constantly searching for bigger, louder, more impressive and expensive, when does this thirst ever get quenched? And at what point do we decide it’s too much and now we want something simpler, deeper, more accessible to everyone instead of just those at the top of the economic structure?

My journey into minimalism has radically shifted my perspective on what I’m willing to spend time and money on. I question everything now, which I think is good and healthy (albeit awkward and often tense at parties or functions when I start to rail on about my theories).

When Jason and I discussed this on the way home from the concert, he said, “This live performance is also a unique experience that we’ll have forever. That’s part of what we’re paying for.” I agree with this, in theory, but I still question the cost, both financially and morally, of investing in something so big and loud and insanely expensive for what amounts to ninety minutes of entertainment.

Excess is killing us. Flash and dash does not satisfy long term. I want to invest in depth and substance, something that moves the needle of love, mercy and justice toward the oppressed instead of focusing on my own nostalgia and appetite for entertainment.

Is it wrong to go see U2 in concert? Of course not. But I think it’s okay to admit that I have conflicted feelings about being part of something that costs millions when the world is in such desperate need of water, food, safety, equal rights, environmental conservation and peace (to name just a few of our global issues). These things matter more than my desire to be wowed at any cost.

I don’t know what the answer is here. I wish I did. All I know is that my heart hurts for the intolerance and simmering rage I observe in our society right now. We need to think bigger in terms of solutions and hope for everyone, not just a select few. I want to go beyond consumption, entertainment and individual excess. I long to see what we can do together for the poor, the broken, the marginalized, the sick. Less of what I need, more of what we need.

But how? This is the question I’m desperate to answer.

Live and Let Live

Live and let live is one of my favourite slogans of the recovery movement. So simple and yet so challenging, for we all have opinions on how others should function.

Most of the time, what other people do is none of our damn business. Putting this thought into practice can radically change your life for the better.

Does a certain family member drive you up the wall? How about a neighbour? Or a parent at your kid’s school? Maybe it’s a co-worker, your boss or a particular client?

Live and let live. You get to make any choice you want in life, with your words, your actions, the expression of your thoughts and feelings. And guess what – so does the person you makes you utterly bonkers.

It’s infuriating and freeing, at exactly the same time. It’s not up to us to decide how other people should live. They get to choose and they also get to deal with their unique consequences. And the same is true for us.

Learning to practice this has been one of the hardest but happiest experiences for me. When I find myself in a negative cycle of criticizing someone whose decisions make zero sense to me, I step back (often midway through my rant) and remember to say, “Live and let live.”

I’m not responsible for what other people do and say and neither are you. Why should we waste even a moment of our precious life worrying or fretting about something that’s not our responsibility? This is where the “live” part of the slogan comes in. It’s up to me to make my own decisions and look after the words I say, for good or for evil, and make a conscious choice to allow the other person to be responsible for theirs.

Try it. Write “live and let live” somewhere and look at it to remind yourself not to get involved when it’s someone else’s life. As I improve at this, I’m working on adding, “I wish you well” to this phrase so I can extend a bit of goodwill to the person who might baffle, irritate or anger me. I do this because it’s healthy for my soul and also because it makes the world feel softer, gentler, more loving. This is a Step Two kind of thing, however, so I don’t recommend starting with it. Build up to it.

The goal is to be busy creating a life that we love living, so we have less interest in criticizing anyone else’s decisions. If it has nothing to do with me, I’m really trying to simply leave it alone. And where it does affect me, I get to choose how I respond and then let go of whatever the other person does or says.

If we all work at living how we want to live and letting others live how they want to live, our world will be a more peaceful place. And that’s good news for everyone.

More Beauty, Less Rushing

I’ve committed to waking up to the beauty and inspiration all around me. Far too often I notice I’m sleepwalking through life, going through the necessary motions of getting exercise, eating, trying to get enough sleep, writing, e-mailing, planning for the future, remembering to text or call friends, making sure the kids and husband are okay, watching Netflix and so on.

But when I really begin to pay attention, the minutia of existence falls away, just for a little, and I’m able to function in a different, more beautiful dimension.

On Monday, I dropped Ava at her dance class and stopped at Save-On for some groceries. As I pulled into a parking spot, Corey Hart’s “Never Surrender” came on the radio, so as all self-respecting people of a certain age would do, I pumped up the volume (see what I did there?) and stayed in the car until the song was over.

This gave me a chance to sing and look out the windshield for the brief interlude of one fantastic 80s song. Dusk was just beginning to descend, so the sky was that intense shade of blue, like the ocean after a storm. Clouds perforated the landscape, creating visual interest and texture.

Across from me was an old minivan, with the back hatch open. A young, bearded man sat there, reading a beat-up paperback book and stroking the soft head of an ancient dog lying with his head in the man’s lap. The scene was so gentle, intimate and stirring, it restored my hope and my focus. Watching for two minutes took me out of my harried modern world and restored me to myself.

Ava worked this weekend on a short film and on Saturday morning her set was a small park in North Vancouver. While the cast and crew blocked a complicated fight scene, my attention drifted to a dad pushing his eighteen-month-old daughter on a baby swing a few feet away. He stood in front of her and pretended she kicked him in the stomach every time the swing came forward. He said, “Ooof!” with a mock pained expression and the baby laughed every single time.

This game went on for about ten minutes. He never once glanced at his cell phone or seemed bored. He was utterly dialled in and present with her. Simply observing the connection between the two of them gave me an enormous lump in my throat.

Beauty is everywhere. I’m determined to create more of those moments in my own life. To stop rushing and to savour instead. To slow, to rest, to be enough, to cease hustling and proving. To recognize that success is how we define it and not what anyone else thinks or says.

Time is fleeting. Petting a dog while the sun sets or soaking up the giggles of your beloved child are worthwhile, important pursuits.

More beauty, less rushing. Awareness makes these gifts possible. They are right there, ours for the taking, with the power to change us for the better.