Future Guilt

Name it; claim it. 

I am going to identify this harmful habit and hopefully begin to dig it out of my life. 

I bought a cookbook yesterday and stopped by the grocery store to buy a few ingredients to make a frittata and a broccoli salad. As I walked from the car to my door I heard myself say, "This is the sort of thing I should do all the time. Ugh. Why am I so bad at cooking good things for myself? I'll never be able to keep this up."

This was as I was walking into my kitchen with the intention of making a delicious meal!

Another example: the other day I was feeling lazy and shlubby and decided to exercise a little. Afterwards I heard myself say, "Ugh. I need to do this more often. It won't make a difference unless I workout regularly."

I have named this destructive habit Future Guilt. It begins in the feeling that I may not continue indefinitely the "positive" behavior in which I am engaging. And that feeling frustrates me and makes me feel hugely guilty. This is a problem for several reasons.  

Future Guilt is shockingly ignorant of my basic way of being. I am a creature of cycles. It is so. There are times when I am active, motivated and inspired. These are paired with times of quiet, introspection and stillness. I hope to quit attaching a negative/positive label to these two ways of being. In the world in which I live, active is positive! Always. And when I am quiet and still, I beat myself up for not being in the active side of my cycle. Hence the Future Guilt. 

Down the rabbit hole we go! Even as I talk about cycles, I found myself using the word dichotomy to describe these two states of being. Dichotomy means the difference between two mutually exclusive things. Are those sides of me really polar opposites? No. They are not. Next I tried duality, which is very similar to dichotomy, but seems softer to me - the having of two parts. So far, so good. Except ... they aren't really separate. They fulfill one another. They rise out of each other. Cycles, remember? It reminds me of a reference book I own called Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom. In it, the author talks about the menstrual cycle in conjunction with the cycles of the moon. When I first saw it it was one of those aha! moments that helped me explain myself to myself. Here is the picture:

This feels so natural. It rings true in my body. Thank goodness someone writes these things down so I can read them and understand myself!

Which brings me back to Future Guilt. As I move into the active phase of my cycle, I can get angry that it will eventually phase out and I will return to a quieter, less motivated state of being. Living in cycles means staying keyed into my present reality. Finding satisfaction in the activity (or stillness) of the moment. This is something I am working on. I want to be able to enjoy my active and inspired phase. It's fun!! I loved the hell out of my little kitchen and frittata last night. I took pictures, danced when it started to smell good in the oven, and bragged about it to my husband. I worked at appreciating my cooking in the moment instead of feeling guilty that I don't do this all of the time. 

This motivated phase will wane. I don't know when, but I will go make broccoli salad while it waxes. No pithy closing remark. Just a satisfied feeling and a desire to eat some broccoli. 

Looking Down

"You have strength enough. What you love, you will love. What you undertake, you will complete. You are a fulfiller of hope; you are to be relied on."
- Ursula 

I am in a stage where I am grateful for every little help, each moment of centeredness, each rising moon. Every quote I've collected over the years has come back for me now. My literary friends, Clarissa, Ursula, Anne, they pat me down and stroke my hair as if to say, there there. I draw immense strength from their ministrations.

I am closer to the ground than I have ever been. I rode past a church sign the other day that declared, "When in need, look up, not down." I disagree. Look to the earth. Look to the roots of the mountains.

What does it mean to be closer to the ground? It means that I feel more solid than I have before. I am very tired, but very strong. I am close to the earth so I can sit down easily. I have to sit fairly often because I have to rest. I focus. I breathe. I cry a little. I laugh and feel joy and touch the earth. I give myself a break. I think, I cannot get up anymore, and then I get up. I repeat.

If I am at times myopic, forgive me. I have to focus to make it right now. I have to read the quotes, drink the beer, hug my person and keep moving.

I have strength enough. What I undertake I will complete.

Let Genius Burn!

Clarissa says,

Some of the malevolent complexes' favorite thieveries and punishments of women's creativity revolve around promising the soul-self "time to create" somewhere off in the foggy future. Or promising that when one has several days in a row free, then the rumpus will begin at last. It's hogwash. 

I am emerging from a very dark and difficult night. I don't fault myself for curling up in order to survive. There is a time in each cycle for hibernation, to conserve energy. It is necessary. I know that I was drawing a protective shield around my centered self, shutting down complex functions, running on instinct. I know that in the hard work in the dark, I tilled the rocky ground and planted many seeds, tending them quietly, waiting. And I made many promises to placate that creative genius that comes knocking, saying, "I'm here! Get up! Let's go!" I pushed it down the road, I sang it sweet songs of someday.

Now though, in the morning light in which I find myself, it is time to shake loose. Time to breathe in, to welcome the creative genius. To give my little seedlings some sunlight and see how they will grow. To remember that there is a creative river just upstream and a dam ripe for breaking.

Today I was reminded of a passage from one of my favorite books. Everyone knows that good novels reveal themselves slowly, over many readings and re-readings. For example, when I first read Little Women I didn't notice how tremendous it was that Jo's family honored her creative life. And not only honored it, but let her forsake all other duties when genius burned.

Every few weeks she would shut herself up in her room, put on her scribbling suit, and `fall into a vortex', as she expressed it, writing away at her novel with all her heart and soul, for till that was finished she could find no peace. She did not think herself a genius by any means, but when the writing fit came on, she gave herself up to it with entire abandon, and led a blissful life, unconscious of want, care, or bad weather, while she sat safe and happy in an imaginary world, full of friends almost as real and dear to her as any in the flesh. Sleep forsook her eyes, meals stood untasted, day and night were all too short to enjoy the happiness which blessed her only at such times, and made these hours worth living, even if they bore no other fruit. The devine afflatus usually lasted a week or two, and then she emerged from her `vortex', hungry, sleepy, cross, or despondent.

It's time to prepare for the approach of the 'vortex', to make ready for the breaking of the dam. Let it come and let me be ready!

Adult Shtuff

There are days when I feel that I am rocking this whole grown-up thing.

Exhibit A:  List O' Things

1. Went to the doctor for an annual physical exam and got a flu shot!
2. Scheduled a bill payment and had a conversation with Father about investment
3. Put away dishes and washed other dishes
4. Made french toast with homemade challah bread with husband
5. Did laundry!

Exhibit B:  List O' Other Things

1. Had a solo and delicious breakfast
2. Practiced deep, calming breaths
3. Delighted in the return of well-loved TV shows
4. Had long talks with old friend and good mom
5. Biked around Sauvie Island and felt happy and healthy 

This is a day in which I feel proud of myself.  There was a lovely mix of important grown-up accomplishments, guilt-free downtime, refreshing activity and personal connection.  

Thank you Lady for days like this!  Not so rare now, but always fully appreciated.

Working it Out

My mind was wide open this afternoon, unable to focus, like dilated pupils trying to read a blackboard.  I felt once again like time was a great, rushing river, racing away from me.  I came home on a bike, aware of the benefit of my hilly peddling, yet still off-kilter.  Cue instinctive reach for a glass of water in the garden in the cloudy evening light.  A little attentive focus on the breath, a little observation of my body and the world around me and something inside settled down.  My mind re-focused, my insides un-clenched.  Lovely - those quiet moments of returning to self.  

Once again, I need to remember, to live in the idea that time is infinite and every moment lasts forever.  I skip ahead so frequently and it does me harm.  It harms me.  Here I am, observing my life in this moment. 

• Warm lamp light
• Spinning ceiling fan
• The sound of Peter's voice in the other room
• The feel of my toe separators, separating away
• Breath in
• Breath out

I am not at work.  I am not in Friday.  I am not in next week.  I am here.  I am in my bedroom writing this, writing this.  

Fall is a time of settling down and I need it.  I'm returning to a little more yoga and it's helping.  I am in need of centered awareness, of self-settling.  Breath in and out.  Observe the breath.  Return to self.

The Last Five Years. And the Next!

I'm a multiples of five kind of girl.  Love me some 5s, 10s and 15s.  This Fall marks the five-year anniversary of my re-start in Portland.  Five years ago I started dating this lovely man named Peter.  Five years ago I began teaching theater to tiny tots.  Some things change; others stay the same.

I met with the Moon tonight.  The wind blew and the season changed and the Moon rose and I realized, as good-intentioned as it may have begun, I do myself no favors by worrying about "them" anymore.  It's over for "them."  No more worrying about what "they" think and what "they" might lose.  I am responsible for this big beautiful self of mine and I get to focus on the bright and beautiful road that I have to travel now.  The Moon pulled that strong self up in me - if She can heave the vast ocean in to shore, imagine the effect on my primal and powerful self when She is big and round and O-So-Near!  

The Return of the Haiku! 

Rising like a red

balloon, she skims the High School, 

Impossible Size.

Straight back, strong body,

I let her in.  Hands, heart,

all my eyes open.

Selfish selfishness.

Suddenly reimagined:

Radical self-care.

I'm storing up all

my rage for good use in some

future time.  It leaks.

I'm finding candles, 

at intervals, "follow me!"

I see my own voice.

A Little Nap

Sometimes, a little nap is all you need.  All you need to remember that life is not hopeless.  That all your future choices are not laid out in plain sight like cards on a table.  There is still mystery.  There is still a bend in the road.

"Oh, there's another bend in the road at their end," answered Anne lightly.  "I've no idea what may be around it - I don't want to have.  It's nicer not to know."

A little nap is sometimes all that's needed to put things in perspective.

Thank GOD for little naps.  Sometimes.