Recently a client asked me how to tell the difference between the natural anxiety a person has when they’re moving forward into something new and the gut instinct that something is truly wrong for them. Good question, right?
And the answer is: I don’t think you can tell the difference. At least not right away.
Both of those feelings are so profoundly uncomfortable that it’s easy to see why some people stay stuck in the familiar. As my wise friend Amy Ahlers once told me, “If you are out of your comfort zone, you can expect to feel uncomfortable.”
I think the only solution is to take a few deep breaths, recognize that discomfort is part of change and then take a few small, manageable steps toward the new thing. Then you can look around and see how it all feels: are you feeling supported and excited? Are unexpected angels conspiring to help you? Are you enjoying yourself? Or are there roadblocks and potholes and feelings of wrongness?
Only once you have taken a few steps into the unknown territory can you determine if you should keep going or not. You can’t tell from where you are.
But do not underestimate how very uncomfortable it can feel to start to play in a bigger arena, to put your self out there, to begin a new work. You will feel vulnerable, afraid and very….exposed. And here’s what’s worse: no one will give you credit for your bravery. They will just sort of assume that it must be easy for you to publish, to perform, to create, to change your world. Because that’s just how cool you are.
(And also notice that you make that assumption, too. When your friend releases a new CD of original songs or mounts a gallery show or puts up their Etsy shop, you don’t automatically think of all the blood, sweat and tears they must have poured out to accomplish that work. You just think, “Oh. Cool. They did that.” So maybe next time give them a bit of a pat on the back, nu?)
You must hold your own hand, talk yourself off of whatever ledges you find yourself on, reward yourself with lots of treats, surround yourself with a few compatriots who will acknowledge your efforts and then…keep walking.
Pay attention to the foreboding feeling in your belly, but don’t let it make your decisions for you, OK?
We love the story of life as a road. Success is a ladder. Time is ever marching forward.
But we know it’s not true.
We are forever on shifting sands, sliding forward and backward and sideways and diagonally in our thinking, our feeling, our learning and our lives. Time swirls about us endlessly; effortlessly sweeping us back to That Day in the Third Grade…That Picnic by the Lake…That Long and Horrible Night…no, certainly time is the most unreliable of all the unreliables.
If we think of our lives as being linear, we cheat ourselves out of the fullness of our experience.
Plus, it’s that foolish linear thinking that leads to self-immolating thoughts like, “I should be more successful by now” and “Look, that person is more successful than I am.” We know these thoughts are lies, too, but if you only measure by the clock it is all too easy to slip those lies into your pocket and carry them around as part of your belief about yourself.
The more we learn about our art (our love), the less we know.
The longer we live on this earth, the more the years seem to pass in a day.
As our fortunes rise and fall, the more we recognize that money and status are no more accurate a marker of success than a new crop of tomatoes or a big hug from an eight-year old.
Today, challenge yourself to notice the ways in which your life is moving in many looping directions all at once. And how that is good and meet.
photo: “first tomato of spring” from The G-tastic 7’s photostream on flickr used by Creative Commons license
Here’s how I know: because if you really needed to lose weight, you’d be doing it already.
In the same way that you always feel like you need more money, but it’s when the rent is due (or those shoes go on sale) that you actually find the money.
So if you’ve been torturing yourself about how you look and you are letting your mind be filled up with an endless swirl of thoughts like, “Why is my belly like that? And my hips. I used to be so much thinner. I should go to the gym. That girl over there is so skinny. I wish I looked like that. I wonder if I should try hula-hooping or pole dancing? Silly. I wish I could just snap my fingers and change my body. Maybe a juice fast? I don’t really like juice….”
(Familiar?)
Then I am here to tell you right now: CUT IT OUT.
(Now, clearly, if your weight is a medical issue and you still aren’t doing anything about it, then you must just rally all of your internal strength and get a bunch of people to help you right now. Seriously. I don’t care if you are thin or not, but I do care that you stay alive.)
I have a little story for you.
Here’s what happened:
I was meditating the other day (and, as usual, half-running my list of complaints about myself) when I suddenly felt a BOLT of energy – like a wrecking ball of energy had just hit me square in the chest – and I suddenly saw the complete absurdity of my endless self-criticizing.
1) I have a BEAUTIFUL life.
2) Life is very, very short.
Therefore, for me to spend ONE MINUTE obsessing about something as trivial as my weight is not just ridiculous, it’s a bit obscene. In the way that having a bowling alley in a private home is a bit obscene.
I was suddenly shocked at myself. That I would spend even one minute of this glorious life beating myself up seemed, at the very, very least, pitifully ungrateful.
I seized a pen and wrote:
My Poor, Ever-Lovin’ Body…
My precious, delightful, ungainly, grace-filled body
That has lived through
So much neglect
So much disdain
…and you have only ever loved me
Breathing for me even when I forget
Patient so patiently waiting for me to love you
Or even like you a little bit.
You always do your best
Even with me disapproving all the time
Oh the things I have said about you
Still you helped me as best you could.
Stockholm Syndrome.
Tell me what I’ve done
Show me every scar
Each tender spot
I’m noticing how soft your skin is
Right here
Right here
And this light I see in your eyes
So, as a consequence of that blazing moment I have started a new spiritual discipline:
I have spent the last several days mentally refusing to worry about how my body looks.
And I gotta tell you, it is appalling how many times an hour I start to think, “Oh, my weight is so…” and then I have to say to myself, “Stop. Think about something more interesting.”
And then 3 minutes later I’m right back. “My thighs…” and then, “Stop. Think about something more interesting.”
I cannot begin to count the amount of time I have spent over the years just idly hating myself.
Well, as of now, I am reclaiming that time and that mental energy.
I have made a sign for over my desk that says:
IF YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT YOU ARE JUST BORED.
Having Trouble Communicating With An Overworked Partner?
This totally made me puddle up. I think Audrey sets a fine example for us all 🙂
“Hi Samantha!
I am on your email list and receive your beautiful poems and ideas.
I just wanted to thank you cause those emails have been inspiring for me.
I recently wrote something for my boyfriend that I titled: In Praise of The Stressed Worker inspired by your poems and that was the only way I could reach his heart. Everything else didn’t work but that poem that I did – more for me in honor of him – really spoke to him.
So thank you for the inspiration and also for all the love and understanding of others.
When everything starts to feel out of control, it’s easy to get hard. Hard-headed, hardhearted and hard to get along with.
When we get rigid, we often try to exert some autocratic form of control (“Get into bed right now, young lady!”) which leaves everyone feeling alone and depleted.
Next time your world starts spinning, take a deep breath and concentrate on softening your heart.
I notice that you being hard on yourself doesn’t help you get more done. You criticizing yourself doesn’t help you learn and grow. You dwelling on your perceived failures, shortcomings, faults, weaknesses and screw-ups doesn’t help you be a creative person.
In fact, it makes everything worse.
Being hard on yourself depletes your energy.
Being hard on yourself discourages you from taking action.
Being hard on yourself makes every idea an opportunity for punishment. (“Why didn’t you think of that sooner?” “You should have done that already!” “What’s this – another idea that you won’t finish?”)
Treating yourself as though you are some unreliable and troublesome child who must be constantly watched (“Heaven knows WHAT she’ll do if we take our eyes off her for even just one second”) is completely counter-productive.
I might also point out that you being hard on other people (criticizing, dwelling on their perceived failures, shortcomings, faults, weaknesses and screw-ups doesn’t help anything either. In fact, it makes things worse.
So just for today, be tender with yourself.
Give yourself a sincere compliment and don’t then immediately talk yourself out of it.
Look around your life and notice all the parts of it that are truly, truly wonderful.
Being gentle with yourself and others is not a cop-out: rather, it is the only way out of the destructive spirals of procrastination, perfectionism and self-loathing.
We love the story of life as a road. Success is a ladder. Time is ever marching forward.
