Relationships Archives - Page 16 of 24

In Culture, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

Going Deeper

Julianne HarveyNovember 16, 2016Leave a comment

I sat down to write my blog yesterday and for the first time in six years I had literally nothing to say. I started and erased four different entries before giving up.

The U.S. election has put me in a funk. I’m fighting my way out of a cloud of uncertainty, fear and barely suppressed rage. It’s awful to watch something unfolding and have no compass for understanding why it’s occurring. I hate the direction the culture of the world is heading in. It feels like stepping back in time and losing all societal forward progress toward acceptance, freedom and kindness.

Today I feel marginally stronger and able to marshall my flying thoughts in one direction. I long to go deeper. The answers are not found on Facebook, Twitter or by watching so-called “experts” on the news. This is the way of madness; futility and bleak predicted outcomes that have no basis in reality.

What helps is sitting still and breathing. Praying. Being generous to ourselves so we can give to others without burning out. Remaining calm when the world is burning is an act of radical courage. Peace provides a balm that soothes frayed nerves and overworked minds.

It takes a lot of willpower for me to stop forecasting disaster scenarios and listening to other people’s doom and gloom doesn’t help me break this cycle. The world has not ended. The sun continues to rise and set and our loved ones are still all around us. Our kids need us to show them the way through. Bravery is the currency we need right now.

Answers are found in stillness, not in social media. I’m weary of my own opinions and everyone else’s. When nothing is clear, go deeper inward, to the place where peace is buried. It’s there, under the noise and the strain and the worry. It’s in each of us, a lit candle in the fiercest, blackest storm, and I’m determined to find it and shelter its flame.

We need each other, now more than ever. It’s helpful to reassure and encourage when so much of the Internet is aflame with anger and insults. We are all just trying to find our way. We want the best for our children. We do what we think is best so gentleness is paramount, even when we cannot grasp why this series of events has unfolded and we have strong feelings about it.

I’m so glad Christmas is coming. This year, more than ever, I’m desperate for hope, love and a promise of peace. If I want stability in the world I must first create it in myself. And so must you. Let’s link hands in the darkness and whisper, “We are okay. I’m here with you.” This will help. So will going deep to find that place of stillness and comfort. It’s always darkest right before the sun rises and we get another day to do some good for ourselves and for others.

In Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships

Rekindling Hope

Julianne HarveyNovember 1, 2016Leave a comment

When hope rekindles where you once felt empty and bereft, it’s like coming alive again. It’s the first twitch in your fingers, signalling that your coma is ending and you are returning to a state of normalcy again.

These last three months have been a true slog. Unpredictable, scary, lonely, exciting and sad, all boiled up together in a stew of change.

Every day, I tell myself to be kind and gentle in order to survive a series of hurdles to my preferred stable routines, but the relief of finally being in our own space again this past week has loosened something primitive in me. I’ve become unhinged, crying at random intervals and experiencing a near-catatonic internal state as a reaction to rising panic and dread.

I felt certain that my growth work of the last few years had been tragically reversed by this provincial move. I craved the order and calm I fought so hard to establish in Alberta, but it has eluded me at every turn since we’ve arrived in BC.

When will I learn to stop being so fatalistic and permanent with my dire predictions? When I’m under extreme stress, it’s important to recognize this and love myself through it, the way I would assist a friend, my husband or my kids. Instead, I decide that the jig is up and I’ll never be happy or peaceful again.

The type of upheaval we have gone through since the summer is bound to cause disruption. It must be my coping mechanism to forecast disaster in the face of what I cannot control. This is how I made it through childhood with a mentally ill and alcoholic father and an emotionally icy mother.

I learned not to count on anything. I anticipated the worst possible outcome so that anything less felt manageable. I’ve carried this unhealthy skill into adulthood and it hangs me up from time to time.

The solution is to acknowledge what is going on and to work at changing my fearful reactions. I’m the grown-up now, responsible for two children of my own. It’s up to me to model better responses for my kids to follow.

This too shall pass. Stress is not a permanent state. I’m responsible for my own mental health. When I feel unmoored and lost, like I do now, I must slow down and make the effort to reconnect with myself. Jason and I went on a dinner date this weekend and I had serious trouble vulnerably sharing with him. I realized it was because I was so far from myself.

At least I know what the job is now. I have to turn my signs of life back into actual life. It’s time to tend to my own soul; to find my equilibrium and the peace of mind I’ve been missing. Self care is a daily practice. When it’s neglected, nothing feels right or balanced. I have hope that I can return to my previous state of mental health if I give myself some time and effort.

In Nurture, Relationships

Hope in the Beautiful Places

Julianne HarveyOctober 18, 2016October 17, 2016Leave a comment

The CT scan to diagnose my ruptured appendix this July showed up a shadow on my liver. The attending doctor suggested I follow up with an abdominal ultrasound to see if it was something or nothing.

I went for the ultrasound and was there a long time. I took this as a good sign as it seemed like the technician was hunting for something and couldn’t seem to find it.

Then the doctor’s office called to ask me to come in for results. “It’s not urgent,” she said. I convinced myself that it was all fine.

But when I went to see the doctor, it wasn’t fine. Instead of one shadow, there were now seven. They could be benign cysts, there all along and simply not visible in the appendix CT, or what was one concerning spot has now grown to seven in a matter of two months.

I left the clinic with my heart sitting like lead in my chest, clutching my next ultrasound order for a month from now to see what’s going on then. I know this could be a lot of fuss over nothing, but I also know that it could be something quite scary and uncertain. There’s nothing I can do but wait.

Letting go of my ardent desire to know everything now is a lifelong struggle. When I was so sick in the hospital, willing myself to stop puking after surgery, I learned kicking and screaming to take each moment as it comes instead of pre-ordaining what I want to happen.

I vowed I would keep this mentality in my regular life. I felt desperate for my appendix rupture and bumpy recovery to mean something. It was huge and monumental and powerfully affecting and I longed for those changes to stay with me. To change me.

But life has been on fast forward as we prepare to take possession of our new house in BC, and it’s been too easy for me to fall back into old habits. I spend so damn much time forecasting and not enough time remaining open to whatever possibility will present itself next. Why was I so sure the doctor would say this shadow was nothing to worry about? Is that my coping mechanism to hedge against disaster?

Like all of us, I have no choice but to keep going. The sun will rise and it will set. My kids will make me laugh, Jason will reach for my hand, I’ll eat popcorn and watch Netflix. What we have is the moment we are in. The job is to stay present, within ourselves and with those we love most.

It’s okay to be scared and sad and unsure. I’m grateful to have a tribe of friends that I can reach out to and they don’t offer me false hope. They say, “We love you, we are with you, we will help you carry this so you don’t feel alone.” They remind me that I am strong and brave and that I can do hard things. This helps tremendously to lighten the load.

I can’t control the rest, but I can be kind and gentle to myself every day and search for the smallest ray of hope in the unlikely and most beautiful of places.

In Identity, Minimalism, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships, Writing

4 Essential Things

Julianne HarveyOctober 4, 2016October 3, 2016Leave a comment

I’m in love with this Minimalist Mantra, courtesy of Joshua Becker from Becoming Minimalist. In it, he suggests listing 4 essential things in your life, doing them first and stop doing the non-essential. Wise words.

Reading this mantra got me thinking about my 4 essential things. I’m sure they will be different from yours, but as every one of us strives for meaning in our short but important lives, I long to focus on these areas and hope this list will help me say yes to what matters and no to what doesn’t.

My 4 Essential Things

1. Health

I realized this summer in the hospital that my health is a necessity, not a luxury. If you are like me, you tend to go along your merry way taking your health for granted until you have a crisis. Then everything crystallizes and you see clearly how challenging it is to make any other goals happen if you are struggling to get out of bed each day. So much of this life is out of our direct control, but doing the best I can to remain healthy is under my control. I have a renewed appreciation for daily walks, eating well, light weightlifting, meditating and other forms of self care to do my best to stay healthy enough to pursue the other essential parts of my existence.

2. Family and Friends

What is all of our striving for? At the end of the day, I want my closest relationships on this earth to be meaningful. In order for that to happen, I must be vulnerable with those I love, sharing the best parts of myself as well as the worst. Life is too short to pretend. I don’t want to be afraid of being honest and authentic. I want to jump in with both feet and to offer my top energies and resources to the people I’ve committed to. Making time for the kind of friends who encourage, support and care for me is important to me. I don’t need a ton of friends; just ones that increase my joy, give me stomach pain from belly laughing, and have proved themselves reliable. My tribe makes life more fun and also comforts when trouble comes knocking. I must invest in them and allow them to invest in me.

3. Writing

Writing is like breathing to me. I often don’t know how I feel about something until I put pen to paper (or start typing on my MacBook) and then I get my “aha!” moment of clarity and light. I long to say no to everything that doesn’t involve writing and yes to everything that gets me closer to my dream of signing with an agent, having a traditional book deal, increasing the speaking I’m doing on various topics, and my longest-held goal of selling a screenplay and being a part of the film industry. Focus involves turning away from the good to concentrate on the best. This is part of my 4 essential things and something I plan to zero in on.

4. Nurture

This is a big word that covers a lot of territory. For me, it means self care first, something relatively new to me, and after this it involves caring well for others. I think I’m naturally good at this, but part of my journey of self-growth and discovery has been about setting boundaries so I can nurture more effectively without burning out or blazing with resentment and unacknowledged rage. I’m seeing encouraging progress in this area but like all self-improvement, I have more ground to cover. I’ve worked hard to reveal my soft core of compassion and unconditional love by clearing a lot of unhealthy habits out of the way, but making nurture one of my essential 4 things will help me carve out time and space for this priority.

What are your 4 essential things?

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

Navigating Transition

Julianne HarveySeptember 27, 2016Leave a comment

Do you ever feel like you are swimming and swimming but you aren’t actually gaining any distance? You are simply treading water. Not drowning, so that’s positive, but not exactly setting any performance records.

What is this damn obsession I have with being impressive? Why isn’t it enough to do the best I can in my own small world for those I love without seeking a grandiose level of some invisible acclaim which probably wouldn’t make a bit of difference to me even if I did receive it?

I long to pull back the focus of my life, to go from wide lens to a smaller, more pointed perspective. When I was in the hospital last month it became easy to see what really mattered. I made a set of decisions then to let go of the stupid, piddly shit that hangs me up on the regular.

But now life is back to normal and those niggling insecurities are creeping back. I am aware of them, which is a healthy sign, but I hate wasting any energy on them when I feel like I settled this issue while at my worst in an uncomfortable hospital bed.

As a family, we are in the midst of of big life transition as we move from one province to another. It’s messy, uncertain, wonderful and frustrating as hell. For the most part, the kids have both excelled, managing a ton of upheaval with grace and good humour.

I’ve done well too, provided I don’t creep the performance bar ever higher for myself. When that starts to happen, I’m sunk. Gentleness is the key here. The goal is to enjoy life. To laugh and to build in time to rest. To work, steadily and slowly, without expecting fireworks every day. To show up. To be patient.

Transition is challenging. It requires a lot from us. Managing my own expectations is a full-time endeavour. I have to remember that I’m likely doing better than I think I am. It’s not as fucking difficult as I make it out to be.

So we continue. One foot in front of the other. The sun sets and rises the next morning, offering us yet another chance to learn what we can from the unique journey we are on. Process takes a lot of time. The seeds don’t bloom unless they are tended, and flowers never appear overnight. We have no choice but to struggle through the hard times to make it to the easier ones.