The Shift

The Shift

When a shift in how we understand something happens, it’s often unsettling. It’s a private thing, especially at first, because it takes time to understand what’s changed and until we get clearer, we find it hard to talk about it.

This is a normal part of change, but I really do hate it. I’m trying to come to terms with that off-putting sensation of not quite belonging anywhere. I feel like I’m at odds with myself when I’m sorting through these rough patches. The work is all internal and therefore not easy to categorize or understand, and so a certain loneliness tinges the entire process.

I love the epiphany itself and I’ve been through this enough to know that the eventual result will be worth it. But that damn middle section is a huge pain.

the shiftIt helps to realize that privately nurturing these small seeds of growth is both valuable and important. It’s part of the process. The challenging bit is seeing the world in a different way, but still living as if the epiphany hadn’t occurred. It requires patience to manage these shifts in understanding. We have to be gentle with ourselves, the way we would treat a child going through a major transition.

I get trapped up in the middle sections of change. I feel lost, bereft, alone. It’s easy to feel misunderstood, like the ground is no longer solid under your feet but it’s not quite clear where your next step should take you.

I know that something big is happening for me in these uncertain places. I’ve been here before and I’m certain I’ll be here again. Anyone willing to risk by growing and changing will feel some of this unsettled discomfort. It’s the stretch before the new thing fully reveals itself. It gets dark in this unfamiliar terrain, with accusing doubts whispered into your ear. “Who are you to try for this? No one else thinks this is a good idea! If this was so great, more people would be on board.”

When we make decisions based on what other people might say, we are sunk before we get moving. It’s a losing game, and I know this, but far too often I start to play it when the doubts get loud. The key is to stay the course, to allow the passion to ignite into flame, to tamp down the fear and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It’s okay to be the only one who initially believes in something. The rest of the world is busy with their own stuff. If it brings life to your soul and hope to your spirit, pursue it. Make your way bravely through the middle ground of the shift. Fight the insecurity and the doubt. Emerge on the other side, into the sun, knowing that you will never be the same. That alone is enough reward.

Impermanence

Impermanence

Coming to terms with impermanence is a task for every living person. Nothing lasts. Try as we might, not one of us can hold onto anything or anyone. The days turn into years, our children grow up and away from us, and anticipated events and seasons pass and fade into memories.

The good news is that we can choose our attitude to the certainty of change and loss. It makes us better or it makes us worse. We grow or we resist growth. Both states are uncomfortable.

To be human is to be in a state of flux, with our feelings and the circumstances that comprise our days. We feel melancholy, then grateful, and occasionally suffused with unexplained joy. Our emotions ebb and flow like the tides, often surprising us with their force and power.

impermanenceI think the key is holding all of it loosely. So easy and healthy-sounding to write and so challenging to live out. I know that fighting the inevitable is useless. We can’t change the passing of time. All we can do is adapt to it by accepting that the process is bigger than we are. Each of us exists as a cog in a much larger wheel, stretching back into the past and extending far beyond us into the future.

And yet, impermanence itself leads us to gratitude for whatever is currently in front of us. When we stop running from the truth that our life on planet earth will not last forever, we can sweeten our experience of this particular day. It means more, because we only have a limited number of them to come.

This concept of time passing is more keenly profound in middle age. We are at the halfway point (if all goes according to plan), and we find ourselves astonished by how much of our life is already behind us. Then we look ahead, and we see old age in a way that seems much closer than it used to.

One of the hardest parts of living authentically is bravely facing up to these truths, instead of numbing them with food, alcohol, work, other people’s problems or the enormous time suck that is the internet. Being true to who we are involves recognizing that what we are building into will not last forever, but when we invest in those we love, we can pass those skills and securities to the next generation.

I’m attempting to focus on what brings the most meaning, to myself and to others, in the days and months ahead. How I define this will continue to shift and change, as I do, but it’s a helpful way to channel my energy into something positive and worthwhile. I hate to feel paralyzed by panic and fear at what I cannot control. I’m better off staring this anxiety straight in the face and stating, “I accept you, exactly as you are” and then going along my merry way with a lighter heart because I’ve addressed the darkness instead of ignoring it.

It’s a hallmark of dysfunction to feel isolated in our sadness, but when our sense of loss is part of our shared human experience, it helps a little to actually share it. To bare our souls with as much courage as we can muster, in the midst of our brokenness, and hear another say those healing words: “Me too.”

The load is lighter when others help us carry it. Nothing lasts forever, but as long as we are alive, we get to choose how to spend our time and who we share our lives with. And those choices determine the quality of our days, which matters a great deal.

3 Words for 2016

3 Words for 2016I decided to focus on three words for 2016. They are not resolutions, as the drive for all that we hope to accomplish tends to fizzle out by the middle of January, but I’m hoping that three words will be easier to sustain over the course of the year.

I came up with these words by spending a little time thinking about my weaknesses compared to my strengths. Like everyone, I do certain things well and other things are a struggle for me. I decided to focus on three areas I find personally challenging. That way, when I’m under stress or have a decision to make, I can factor in all three of these words and offer myself a chance to practice living them out.

These are my three words for 2016:

Strong.

I often ask myself, “WWAFD?” for “What Would Alicia Florrick Do?” Those who watch The Good Wife (and if you’re not watching The Good Wife, please rectify that immediately) will get the reference, but Julianna Margulies plays a lawyer, the title character of the show, and she consistently kicks ass and takes names while remaining kind and generous at her core. She takes no shit from anyone and doesn’t give any of her precious time and energy to worrying about what other people think about her. I adore this fictional character and aspire to her strength and courage. This year, I’m going to do all I can to keep the word strong front and centre in my life.

Clear.

I’ve wasted far too much time feeling muddled when I have to make a decision. It’s easy for me to factor in what I think everyone else needs and lose my own vote in the process. I’m planning to work on clarity this coming year, which pairs well with strength, for communicating exactly what I mean requires bravery. Generosity is part of my natural skill set and I wouldn’t ever want to lose it, but getting clear on what I need at any given time, and then speaking this in a direct manner, is a priority for 2016.

Optimistic.

In 2015, I saw on several occasions that my go-to mechanism is to assume the worst. About myself, about others, about situations. At times, I felt like Eeyore, trudging around with a gloomy black cloud over my head, terrified to open an email or run into a person at the store in case it meant bad news or a confrontation. I’m weary of this faulty assumption. Instead of visualizing the potential pitfalls of any group, work project or circumstance, I’m going to project an air of hopeful expectation instead. Maybe something wonderful is in that piece of mail, phone call or Facebook message. Anticipating joy instead of pain may take a lot of effort from me, but it has to be better for my soul than bracing for disaster. Most of the problems I dreaded in 2015 never came to pass, so I’m beginning this new year with the idea that adventure awaits and I have just as much of a chance for success as I do failure.

Those are my three words for 2016: strong, clear, optimistic. What are yours?

Recipe for a Happy Life

Recipe for a Happy Life

Do you want to be happy? For the longest time, I didn’t think it was a worthy goal to aim for simple happiness, but now I believe I was wrong.

Happiness is worthy, in and of itself. Today, on the eve of a brand new year, I’m reflecting on what it means to be happy. To cease striving for some future state of peace and joy and actually cultivate it right here and now.

Happiness equals choices. It gives us the right to decide what it is we need, and offers permission to go for it. This approval does not come from any outside source. Like all worthy pursuits, it’s an inside job. Our happiness does not depend on any outside person, circumstance or situation. We grow it in our own soul, tending it like a garden, until it bears fruit and flowers.

Happiness is not a competition. It’s not defined or regulated by what other people have or don’t have. Looking to the left and right to gauge your happiness based on theirs is the surest way to lose your sense of serenity. Make a choice to unhitch your internal state from anything external. Work on it from the inside, blowing on the ashes to bring the flame to life.

Recipe for aHappy LifeStop worrying about what other people are saying, doing or choosing. Their happiness is not connected to yours. Practice moving away from a fulcrum-type of life, where your feelings and experiences are hinged on someone else’s. This faulty worldview puts you at the constant mercy of the moods and whims of others. You are the master of your fate, you are the captain of your soul (so beautifully said in Invictus by William Ernest Henley).

Happiness is about nurture. You must identify what you need, at any given time, and become responsible for getting that need met. Don’t wait for others to notice you have needs and magically meet them. This is fantasy thinking, and all that comes from this is resentment, paralysis, and unacknowledged rage.

Nurture yourself. It’s no one else’s job to do this; only yours. Figure out what makes you happy and do more of that. This practice leads to a healthy life, but every choice you make should lead you in that direction and not away from it.

Happiness requires courage. Live boldly in order to be happy and at peace. Don’t waste any more time living other people’s dreams for you. This is it – your one precious life – and every moment is either leading you closer to your authentic self, your deepest dreams, your own sense of fulfillment and joy, or you are moving away from it.

Which one will it be as we collectively peer into 2016? What is your own unique recipe for happiness?  Will you summon enough courage to make healthy choices, opt out of bloodsport competition and nurture your own soul in order to get where you want to go?

Real Surrender

Real Surrender

I know I write a lot about acceptance, surrender, letting go of what we cannot change. This is because it’s so damn challenging for me. I think I have it under control, then something else happens to knock me off my game and I have no other choice but to practice this skill once again.

I find it hard to believe when people say they don’t struggle with acceptance. I’ve heard versions of “I just let it go” with a breezy flip of the hair and a general sense of how easy this is. Without fail, every time, I think to myself, “Bullshit.”

Real surrender over circumstances and people is hard. It’s a process, where you don’t get to skip any steps. It’s not easy for a reason. The meaning is found in the struggle. We should be wrestling with what wounds us. We have all been hurt, let down, lost, bewildered.

Real SurrenderWe can’t have it all. That’s a bold-faced lie. What we do have is choices. One after another, day in and day out, then each of these accumulated decisions determines the quality of our lives. Who we spend the bulk of our time with matters. We influence each other.

Wanting a healthy life requires courage. It doesn’t just happen, in and of itself. Our intentions determine our outcomes. We can’t simply float along, at the whim of other people’s decisions, opinions and beliefs, and think that we are in charge of our own destiny. That’s an immature, guarded and small way of life.

But stepping out, as our authentic selves, carries a price tag. You will disappoint some people, many of whom will be close to you. Grieving these lost and broken relationships will be painful. The sharp, piercing sadness will fade, but I’m a few years into it and it never goes away completely.

Especially around the holidays, when opportunities to practice letting go of expectations are all around you. We cannot control what other people say or do (or what they don’t say or don’t do). We must let go of the dream of how we want a situation to be. We just don’t have that kind of power.

I’m learning to focus on the good that has resulted from the losses I’ve sustained. If I make a list of the benefits I enjoy on a daily basis from the hard decisions I’ve made with some relationships, it ends up as a long and rich accounting. Focusing on what has been left behind only paralyzes me in grief. If I want to keep moving forward (and I do), it’s necessary to celebrate what has made my current, joyful life possible, not what or who might be absent from it.

To anyone feeling lost and bereft in these days leading up to Christmas, you are not alone. Surrender. Let go. Allow yourself to accept all that you cannot control so that you can see the good things and people in your life that you feel grateful for.

Try not to fixate on what’s gone and what may never be again. Let it run through your fingers like sand. Turn to those who are there for you – who love and accept you, exactly as you are – for they will make up your future. This is what matters; not what is gone, but what you have gained by your honest choices and what will continue to bloom in the years to come.