recovery Archives - Julianne Harvey

In Identity, Minimalism, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships, Spiritual Life, University, Writing

Recalibrate

Julianne HarveySeptember 7, 2018

My word for the summer has been recalibrate. Not in any scientific form, but a subtle yet intentional change to the way I function in the world.

The greatest aspect of this particular recalibration has been the decision to step back and allow the process to unfold organically. In previous versions of my self development, I’ve tended to force, cajole, urge and shame my change into being. I wanted it done now, dammit, and a specific way.

Not this summer. I felt inspired by a Facebook post from my friend in late June that said, “You have 18 summers with your kids. Don’t waste them.” I took these words to heart. I stopped looking at leisure time as wasted time. I mixed work with play and I felt a lot more relaxed and content.

This recalibration took the form of my general attitude shifting from something set into something more fluid. I tried to take things as they happened, as opposed to forecasting and planning too far into the future. I wrote in my journal a lot, without trying to be fancy or inspired. I just recorded what I was feeling and this practice helped me to slow down internally.

I’ve realized that the process of querying agents and facing a ton of rejection has tampered down my capacity to take risks and to write for the sheer joy of telling a story without thinking about whether or not that work can be published. I’ve just begun two university courses for the fall and both are centred on writing. I’m determined to challenge myself to grow in these courses and not expect that I’ll be the most stellar writer in the class.

Hopefully my spiritual recalibration this summer will offer me a fresh dose of grace and gentleness toward the writing that I do. In this season, I hope to simply be a better version of myself and write from that place with lowered expectations for jaw-dropping genius and a place on the New York Times Bestseller List.

One of my words for 2018 was enough. I can see how this word has been working on me over the last few months. I am enough, just as I am, and so are you. It’s easy to get stuck in a pattern of proving our worth, but this striving brings pain, shame and loss. Feeling like we are enough is a challenge, but it’s well worth the effort.

Part of recalibrating my attitude involves surrendering once again to the flow of this life. Forcing my hoped-for expectations on myself or others or situations is a fool’s errand. I long to swim with the current and not against it. Take it one day at a time, as the recovery movement teaches. Anything else is too uncertain and fraught with peril.

What we have is now. We have the people we love most. We have our own deep well of personality to excavate and mine. We have the chance for contentment, hope and peace. We have kindness, shown first to our fragile selves and then to the world around us. My soul recalibration this summer has given me a fresh perspective on all of these things. Knowing I am enough is a daily battle, but I will fight it, for these moments are precious ones and I want to be fully awake to experience them.

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships

Lessons Learned from my Appendix Rupture

Julianne HarveyAugust 2, 2017

One year ago my appendix ruptured and my whole life changed.

With the most significant events and milestones in our lives, we need time to truly understand and appreciate how these tragedies define and alter us. My surgery and complicated eight-day recovery in the hospital taught me the beautiful art of surrender. I had the chance to practice letting go of what I wanted in order to embrace what was actually happening.

This deliberate act of remaining present has changed the trajectory of my last year. It taught me to recognize what really matters to me and to stop stressing over the little annoying parts of daily existence.

Measured from August to August, we’ve had massive upheaval as a family. We sold a house in Alberta and bought a townhouse in BC. Jason started a new job. We lived with my in-laws for two months. Ava and William changed schools and left their friends behind. Nearly everything looks different a year later.

But it’s my internal changes that have shocked me the most. Fundamentally, I am different. The specific insecurities and fears that I have wrestled with forever have been sublimated and conquered. Surviving those long, lonely days in the hospital when I was getting worse and not better showed me what I’m truly made of. I proved something to myself that I couldn’t talk myself into; I had to live it out, minute by minute, under adverse circumstances in order to put this worthiness garbage to bed once and for all.

I didn’t get a choice about how sick I was last summer and how shitty the timing was, with Jason working in BC and most of my friends out of town for the August long weekend. But I can honestly say, one year later, just how grateful I am for what I learned in that dark corner bed at the Peter Lougheed Hospital in Calgary.

Deciding not to feel less-than and unworthy of love any more was lesson number one. Recognizing that Jason, Ava and William are the most important people in my life was lesson number two. And finally seeing that I am capable and strong was lesson number three.

Each of these lessons has drastically improved the daily quality of my life. I’m no longer lost in a fog of longing for what I do not have or regret for what I cannot go back and change. Now I’m choosing to stay present, with those I love and with the exciting possibilities present in each day I’m alive, knowing that I am enough for any challenge or setback that comes my way.

This confidence is foreign and yet so welcome and inspiring. I am enough. And so are you.

Living as if anything else is true is to waste precious time. Let’s stop doing that. It’s as simple as making a decision. Decide what is most important to you, who is most important to you, and know that you are competent for any task that comes your way. It’s life changing.

In Culture, Nurture, Relationships

Live and Let Live

Julianne HarveyMay 9, 2017

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.

In Culture, Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Relationships

The Key to Personal Freedom

Julianne HarveyNovember 29, 2016Leave a comment

Freedom from other people’s approval is an ongoing struggle for many of us, but when we experience small victories it’s important to step back and take stock of just how far we have come.

I used to crave approval like it was a drug. I was only okay if someone else gave me permission. The entire world looked different when I realized that I could give myself the approval I yearned for instead of searching for it from others.

It’s helpful with all growth to measure it in tiny incremental steps. Something in our human nature wants instant gratification (a condition only worsening with the internet available in our pocket, where any touch of a button yields immediate results) so anything less feels like failure. But the only way to sustain change is to approach it in little ways that don’t completely overwhelm us.

A person was angry with me recently and I didn’t become unhinged like I would have a few years ago. I was able to breathe through my anxiety and halt any developing shame spirals. I said calmly to myself, “I’m allowed to own my feelings and actions and this person is allowed to own theirs. We don’t have to agree. I’m okay.”

This type of positive self talk is huge in recovery from people pleasing. It takes us down off the ledge, turning mild hysteria magically back into tranquility. It felt so good to see how far I have come with my new and healthier skills. The exchange I had with this person knocked me off my stride for ten minutes instead of ten days, months or even decades.

The key to personal freedom is incremental growth. It’s one small alteration at a time, which over years adds up to a big difference in a moment of stress when you really need it. When a person can no longer push your buttons and get the expected reaction from you, you’ll know you have cut the cord and broken free. Now you are fully in charge of your own reactions and emotions, but this wouldn’t have happened for me without all of the hard soul work that came before.

We are all human. We make mistakes. We can become mired in a swamp of other people’s approval and get stuck, spinning our wheels and stewing over what other people are doing. But we can also make different choices, on any given day, and start to build a bridge to our own freedom. We can say, “This is unacceptable. I am worth more than this. I want kindness, honesty and love with no strings attached.”

We can stand up for ourselves and taste how joyful that feeling is. We are not responsible for other people’s happiness. Only our own. And getting to that understanding in our actual experience is what sets us free.

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.