Showing all posts tagged surrender

In Identity, Nurture, Parenting, Personal Growth, Relationships, Speaking, Writing

A Dormant Season

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on

In my workshops at teachers’ conferences, libraries and for writers, I often speak about building in a dormant season for creativity and rest. A period of time where we are intentional about doing nothing, so we can replenish our spent energies and allow our creative impulses to regenerate.

This sounds wonderful in theory, but I realised recently how difficult I find a dormant season in practice. When I’m writing a new manuscript, I try to maintain a steady rhythm, where I work for a little bit each day so I don’t get too far away from the characters and the story. But sometimes dormancy is forced upon us, due to vacations or the needs of others or health concerns or simply life being life, and interrupting us from our best-laid plans.

This happened to me in August. And I struggled against it. I find it frustrating that even when I’m teaching about certain skills and strategies, like taking a dormant season, I can still be ridiculously slow to recognise it in my own existence. We had a couple of trips planned, and then an unplanned trip to the island late in the month to help our kids move into their first basement suite off campus for the upcoming university year, and by early September I recognised how far away I felt from the novel I was writing.

I wish I could say that I was calm about this. But I wasn’t. I got pissed off, at myself for not progressing on my book when I had planned to write all summer, and then irritated by my family members who kept me from writing. I didn’t enjoy how this resentment made me feel, but I stewed in it for more than a week before suddenly remembering what I tell others: for a dormant season to be effective, we have to surrender to it. To enjoy our lives without feeling guilty that we aren’t working on a creative project.

I had completely missed this part of the process. So I reached for my journal, and reflected on this season of dormancy I’d been in, and why I felt myself longing to get back into the writing of my murder mystery novel. I remembered my Ruby Finch Books tagline: Intuitive Courage. Somewhere along the line, I had once again lost myself and my sense of identity and purpose. I’d been at the mercy of circumstances and other people and life itself without recognising or claiming my own agency.

It felt so good to realise that I can always choose my response. I could be angry about not writing, or I could acknowledge that I had been in a period of creative dormancy, which meant that a new burst of creative energy could bloom in me if I allowed it to. In the four seasons of nature, winter is the dormant season. It’s followed by spring, the explosion of growth and vitality, but we only get the beauty of spring because the trees have been dormant in the winter.

I truly believe that the same seasons are necessary in our own lives. And sure enough, once I stopped having a temper tantrum about my writing rhythms and progress being disrupted for a month, I began to feel the slow, gathering momentum of fresh insight for my book. I would lay in bed at night, ready to drop off to sleep, and my intuition would connect one storyline with another in a way I hadn’t considered before. I would realise something in one of my character’s backstories that informed their current choices and motivations.

Writers live for those moments of insight. I suppose I’ll never know if I would’ve had them anyway, if I’d been writing during August and into early September, but they came to me so insistently and yet gently when I wasn’t writing, so I have to hope the brief dormant season made a difference. Now I’m back into the story, writing nearly every day, and the work has a fresh energy behind it.

I’m working with a new counsellor this month, and one of our goals is to help me identify these patterns in my life faster. I don’t like to feel lost and annoyed for weeks on end when I could simply choose a better response. Believing that a dormant season will help my creativity flourish is a healthier choice to make than stewing in frustration about being unproductive.

What are some ways you’ve seen a dormant season lead to fresh insights and replenished energy in your life?

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

Recalibrate

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Recalibrate

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

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Lessons Learned from my Appendix Rupture

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, Identity, Nurture, Personal Growth, Speaking, Writing

Managing Expectations

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Managing Expectations

Managing expectations is a tricky area for me. It’s not my strongest suit, but I’m going to launch in as bravely as I can and see what I might have to say on this topic that can hang so many of us up.

It’s a beautiful idea to release your expectations and just accept what is. I’m sure that this method provides more happiness than the angsty hand-wringing that I’m fond of doing, but getting from stress to surrender is the hard part.

Like many of us, I know what I want in life, or at least I think what I want will bring me satisfaction, contentment, money, happiness, etc. I hate getting caught up in the spider web that is our culture’s inane idea of what success is supposed to look like, and yet it happens again and again to me.

I got a bad review recently from one of the sessions I presented at a teacher’s convention. The material I offered was not at all what this teacher was looking for. It threw me for a loop, because I heard a lot of positive feedback right after the session. It’s one thing to know in theory that you are not everyone’s cup of tea, and another thing to read it so bluntly in black letters on a white screen.

I’m querying a manuscript again and getting plenty of rejection. With each fresh “no thanks, your writing is not for me” my heart sinks and it’s only natural to wonder what the hell I’m doing with my life. But then a bit of time passes and I remind myself that it just takes one person to connect with my work. Not everyone is going to like it and that is totally fine.

But it’s hard. There’s no way for it not to be. The key is not to wrap my self-esteem up in the product I’m putting out in the world (writing, speaking, etc.) and keep the expectations reasonable. It’s going to be a long road, with plenty of bumps and detours and setbacks. Not quitting is what matters.

I think the best thing to do is to stay busy with other projects. You want fresh ideas flowing so you don’t fixate on what might be stagnating in one area of your work or life. Just keep going, and try not to obsess over why nothing seems to be going your way. One day you’ll step up to bat and the ball will connect with that satisfying thwack. You can’t predict when it will be and you’ll probably have to strike out a lot to get to that one thrilling hit.

Our expectations tie us up in all kinds of unpleasant knots. I’m determined to push on, in spite of the many roadblocks in front of me. So much of this life is subjective. One person loves what you’re doing and the next person despises or ignores it. It’s important not to take it personally. I have to believe that what I’m doing has value. It also helps to be reminded that a little bit of kindness goes a long way.

 

In Culture, Identity, Nurture, Relationships

Held

Author Julianne HarveyPosted on
Held

Whenever I start to panic about the state of the world (fairly often, these days), I picture the word “held” in my mind. This word conjures up a sense of safety, even when it can’t be found in anything around me, and helps to remind me that I am not alone.

The incredible success of the wonderfully joyful musical La La Land at the Golden Globes on Sunday night speaks to a dearth of optimism in the hearts of people at this moment in time. I think we are all in need of serious cheer. We want to believe that the U.S. isn’t going down in flames and threatening to bring a large portion of the globe down with them.

I am either held and safe, or I’m not. So I choose to believe that I’m going to be okay. That we are all capable of surviving difficult times. We have reserves of strength that none of us have ever had to touch yet that will be there for us when we need them.

Meryl Streep’s powerful speech beautifully drove home the power of empathy and how dark the world seems when it’s missing or under attack. All I know is that we must shine brighter when night falls. Being afraid is not going to get us very far. That is the coward’s way, and I have to believe that we are not cowards.

Held. To be held implies a sort of surrender, to someone or something bigger than we are. This can be God, fate, love, a higher power, forgiveness, nature or anything else. It just has to be big enough and capable enough to hold you and comfort you. To help in the scariest moments of your life. To offer peace and hope when these elements are in short supply.

Together we are always stronger than when we are divided. It’s time to come together, to keep the dialogue of empathy and generosity going, even when it might not be popular. Especially when it’s not popular.

Many of us are heartbroken and discouraged by the direction of the world. Today, let’s remember that we are held, and safe, and find in this knowledge the courage to keep going. To let our light be enough for us to see by, and possibly to spread hope to a few people around us. This is our legacy. This is enough.