Gimme my Phone!

So I've been off the grid for the past two weeks in more ways than one.  Not only did I leave my computer at home for my vacation, but I inadvertently left my cell phone, too. Horrors!

I was in a panic when I realized I'd left it up in our bedroom, charging in the docking station. I spent the next four hours in low level anxiety, trying to problem solve ways for my husband to MAIL me my phone, even though I didn't really need it. By the end of the day, I was still shaken, but hopeful of a plan to get the phone across the border to Canada one way or the other.

But after a few days, when I started to realize that I really didn't need it that much (I virtually turn it off while we're out of the country, to avoid all those pesky roaming charges), I gave up on putting my husband through mail order hell to deliver something to me I didn't need but was merely addicted to.

I was able to check my email on my mom's computer, which satisfied my inner tech beast's daily requirement of screen time. But I learned something valuable: something I thought was SO vital, SO essential to my daily life, just wasn't. It was a non-issue.

I had worried, natch, about flying home with two kids and no phone for logistics, but we managed perfectly well and didn't need a text play by play to meet my husband at the baggage claim. We just met there. No phone needed.

So I got myself a healthy dose of humble pie; I do not need to be a slave to my phone. I fear many of us are, and the trend to have our faces aimed at screens for much of the day is not my idea of a wonderful world. This experience taught me to let go, yet again proving that Buddhism is the most sensible philosophy I know.

Making a Plan

I've noticed that my anxiety has gone done quite a bit since I made a schedule and plan for this current week, which is chock filled with trainings, packing, trains, camps, and errands. I'm not saying I'm going to stick exactly to my plan, since that rarely happens, but having the plan is the thing. I think some people call it "setting your intentions".

That's pretty much what I'm doing: laying out each day and parsing the different things I have to do on a micro level, so that they don't all have to be done at the last minute, half-assed, or frenetically.

I didn't even use my phone or an app or special software to do it. I did use the computer, JUST TO TYPE. I know, I'm so old school.

So I typed up a list of the days and the activities required therein. And I just checked off today as a solid success. Done and done.

Tomorrow there will be more errands, but I'm calm because I have a plan to refer to. If we needed to, we could be out the door in under an hour, by throwing together the snacks I've got, making lunch, and finishing packing. We're a good way there already and it's only Monday, which is great because my end of the week is FULL. So I'm sorting stuff out while I can.

This makes me less anxious and more peaceful. I like it. Now I can just be for an hour before dinner. That makes me happy.

Change

Taking care of two intelligent, active children is no joke. There are ups and downs all day, especially since they are both oozing into tweendom these days. It's little refusals, digging in of heels, that show evidence of individuation, which is healthy and normal and developmentally appropriate, I know.

But it still tugs at my heart that they don't need me the way they used to. I know that probably sounds wierd, because of COURSE they still need me, perhaps now more than ever, but there are now purgatorial blocks of time in the day when they no longer need me. I remember when they were little, I couldn't wait for nap time, for a break. Now it seems "nap time" is most of the time, with intermittent clashes and/or drama and the need to check in with Mom.

Again, I'm not complaining about this. It is teaching me new skills; staying nonreactive in intense situations, keeping perspective, and letting them grow into themselves with as little restriction as possible.

It always comes back to letting go, doesn't it?

Being Now

Why is it so hard to stay in the moment? I'm asking because I truly don't know. We spend so much of our time ruminating about the pass or fussing about the future. Is that hard-wired and if so, how can we rewire it?

I think the answer does lie in changing our thoughts. Because we now know the brain has neuroplasticity, so that means you can teach an old dog a new trick after all.

I'm trying to stay in the moment, but what do you do when the moment is kind of uninspired and dull? I feel as thought I can't see the forest for the trees.

Yesterday as I was jogging, I noticed myself actually paying attention to being present, and it was aweosme. I was enjoying  something at the SAME TIME it was ACTUALLY HAPPENING. Wow. Those feelings are rare indeed. I hope to change that by trying to really tune in to whatever I'm doing it.

Like right now, I am writing this blog post, and I am in this moment in time. And it is good.

Just have to to keep chugging along and trying to stay in the NOW. Eventually, hopefully, my brain will catch up.

Drop the Rope

A new tween event seems to be on the horizon--the refusal to eat. I don't understand it, and it could drive you batshit, but I can't seem to get my kids to EAT at regular mealtimes. I know, it's the summer and the schedule is out the window, but the more I offer or push, the more they push back, sneaking carbs and waiting me out.

A wise woman once told me you don't feed your children, you "present" the food to your children and they either eat it or they don't. There's no forcing involved. Present the food and then get out of the way. A child will not willfully starve.

Because I think, especially at this age, kids want to be independent and can at times resent you for being too helpful or solicitous. At least, that's the vibe I'm getting from my kids, especially my eleven year old.

So it comes down to being in a tug of war where you just have to drop the rope and walk away. And wait. Because eventually the child will eat, the clothes will get put away, and the shower will get taken. All in good time. Patience is a must.

 Just drop the rope.

Mellowing Out

I have decided to be a mellower person. I know it isn't as easy as all that, but still, I 'm going to try. When my kids blast their music, I will not yell. When they let the cats out, I will not freak out. When they don't pick their things up, I will not get irritated.

Maybe I'm setting the bar too high but life is short and I am sick to death of spending my hours worrying.

This also covers the concept of guilt. As my wise psychiatrist told me years ago, "Guilt is Bogus." My equally wise current psychiatrist suggested I take specific "Guilt Free" times during the day. Just tell myself "I'm not going to feel guilty about _______ for the next hour." 

It works!

So I'm heading down the mellow brick road (sorry) and we'll see how well I stay on the middle path. 

Mindful=Peaceful

I'm doing more meditating. I find mindfulness meditation really interesting, since you follow your feelings instead of letting them float by like clouds like you do in what I guess is typical inhale/exhale sitting meditation. So with mindfulness meditation you, at least according to Sharon Salzburg, identify the feelings, deconstruct them, feel them out, so to speak. Then you can let them go.

On more than one occasion i've felt some tears flow down as I meditate, but the feelings don't destroy me. I have all kinds of bad thoughts and feelings and the key is that they end. They pass. They are ephemeral. It's like that joke about weather in pretty much everywhere but Ecuador--"You don't like the weather? Wait five minutes and it'll change."

So over-reacting to feelings and negative thoughts, as I have been wont to do my entire life thus far, is just not the way to go. I guess the opposite is under-reacting. Taking things in, looking at them, letting them go. I think I'm getting better at that, which is awesome because it prevents me from turning a wisp of something into some big drama with gnashing of teeth and public hysteria.

And I'm all for that.

Finding Inspiration

I have an embarrassment of riches right now: time. I want to use it to work on some of my writing. I have three novels in various states of disrepair, and don't know where to start. I'm hoping brainstorming with a friend who's coming over tonight will help me set some goals. I really want to be engaged in something, and my writing is as good a thing as any, at this point in time.

When I look ahead to the next school year, I see myself with teaching artist gigs, which is a good thing. But will it be enough? I feel underutilized and like I'm wasting time, which makes me feel guilty and restless.

My condition is such that I can manage it. So how far into the mainstream can I go? How much of a commitment can I make to outside people? I need to be there for my family, that's priority number one.

So I'm feeling restless and antsy and a bit useless. Surely I can find a writing group or some creative community with which to engage. My doctor suggested the local Shambhala Center, which I'm intimidated to go to, but may need to push myself to try. It would get me out and around like-minded people, and would help me pursue my aspiration of truly being Buddhist. I feel like such a wannabe. I meditate and read and talk, but I'm not really walking the walk. 

So maybe it's time to put my money where my mouth is. And go out and do something.

Losing my Identity

I'm in the interesting position of having a lot of free time on my hands while my children visit for two weeks with their grandparents. I have lists of things to do, many of which I probably won't get to, but I'm also realizing that I am stuck, or flummoxed by all of the teaching resources, especially books, that I have.

I don't know what to do with them--put them in the attic? Sell them? Am I ever going to teach preschool again as a lead or co-lead? Do I need all those Vivian Paley books? She's great, but how many do I really need?

I bought so much stuff in my manic phase and now it sits, in perfect condition, on my shelves. I feel guilty and embarrassed by the excess. How best to use it?

If I give away or sell these things, what is that saying about my future career? Am I giving it up? There are certain books that I think I can part with. I mean, how many Reggio Emilia books do you need? But I hate to just give this stuff away when it could be meaningful for someone else I might already know. And, to be honest, I am not ready to let go of this stuff. So many teaching supplies were collected when I was readying for my short-lived stint at the local preschool. I can still use some of them in my work with preschoolers for the arts organization I'm involved in. I'm still working with kids, but in a much more controlled environment. I'm hanging on to my children's picture books because I know I'll use those. But my grad school books? Do I really need them anymore? I feel like I've read enough about early childhood education to merit my degree, even if the program I was in wasn't all that fabulous.

It's just, it's the books. It's my emotional attachment to the books, because if I give them away, am I giving up? I'm so unsure of my future career path, and just don't know anymore what to save and what to send off to benefit others. I have intentions of reading and using these books again...someday. But I don't know when that day will be.

Perhaps the answer lies in putting them aside (in the attic) for one year. And if after one year, I have yet to break them open, bend their spines, highlight or dog ear pages, then maybe it's time to sell or give them away. I think that's the best plan.

Because who knows what the future brings or who I'll be in a year? And do I really need so many books to define myself?

It's going to be an interesting two weeks.

Hateful Speech

So I'm just back from a walk in the woods with my kids that had some unsavory elements, in the form of four middle school-aged kids, three girls and one boy, who were hollering and shouting and just being general low grade obnoxious.

Until they saw us. Then the boy just kept yelling at us, really aggressively, "Sup?!" over and over. We said hello and I stared down one of the girls who was trying to give me the stinkeye. But since my kids didn't say anything and I didn't say much, the boy started shouting, "Can't you talk, bitch?" which, needless to say, was unsettling,

Where does this hatred come from? Sure, they're probably just a bunch of bored tweens looking to stir shit up, but what could they possibly gain from us, such low hanging fruit? We were just generic mother and children minding our own business.

We walked away and unfortunately it was not the way home, so we eventually had to turn back, which we did. We saw a young woman with a dog and asked if we could walk with her, safety in numbers. And when we did, in fact, run into the foursome again, one of the girls admired her dog and the "Sup?!" Boy just kept yelling "Sup?!" but it was easier to ignore.

I do know that my kids now know bitch is a bad word. I feel lucky I didn't swear back at those obnoxious kids. Because I sure as hell felt like it. I felt like, if they were to come at us in any way, I would have gone off the rails to protect my kids. I've never felt vulnerable in that park we walked and I often run in, until today.

Which I think is just sad.

It also saddens me to see such rage and aggression aimed at innocent people. Where does it come from? Who talks to those kids the way they talked (shouted) at us? What do they dream about at night? Who tucks them in or speaks kindly to them?

I also felt a real fear which I disguised to the best of my ability, but I'm sorry, when you're outnumbered, it feels a little scary, especially because I'd be the main person in the fight, if there was one, which of course there wasn't. Thankfully. But it touched that deep river of fear that comes with being a parent. You will protect your children at any cost. Fight or flight indeed. It's primal.

I don't know what I should have or could have said or done to dissolve the aggression those kids were throwing at us full throttle. I'm glad at least I didn't stoop to their level and swear in front of my kids. And swearing at a bunch of middle school kids would lower my chances for mother of the year. But I sure felt like shouting at them. I had the urge to vent my spleen. Nobody talks to me or my kids like that, was my thought. But in the moment, there was nothing to say.

Which is also sad.

Down Time

How do you handle down time? I feel this need to be constantly busy, which I know is excessive, but very typical of most people. If we quiet ourselves down, what might we hear internally? I think this is very frightening for some people, and reflected, for me, for the longest time, my feelings about meditation.

Now I see meditation as a relief, a release, and an unwinding. I don't know how Buddhist that makes me but I'm not really looking for a label. I just do what I do. Get in touch with something deeper.

So while my kids are playing at the neighbors, I can do nothing. I can meditate. Always knowing I could be interrupted at any time. And being okay with that.

TMI

When the woman taking my son's cast off last week asked if he was named after the biblical prophet Ezekiel, I answered in the affirmative. So it may have led her to believe that we are Christian. So without missing a beat, my son says, "Oh but we're not Christian."  I think maybe the lady was, and I think I may have blurted out that we are secular humanists and the nurse lady said what's that and I explained we believed everyone can believe in anything as long as no one gets hurt.

But in this ever polarizing country, it feels a little edgy, or dangerous, to announce to strangers that you're not Christian. Because it implies some nefarious underbelly which isn't there, but is assumed to be there. Good god, could that mean you are in the presence of an atheist!?

I didn't even TRY to get into my aspiring Buddhist tendencies. The whole thing was awkward as hell. I mean, the woman was holding a saw. But she still took my son's cast off and acted nice even if inside she was horrified. I just don't know.

My son is being taught to respect other religions and to be firm in his own family credo, but I'm not sure most of the world is ready for our open-minds and earnest candor.

If everyone was a Buddhist, we'd be all set.

In Deep

My son, who, like me, has OCD casually mentioned to me that he worries more when I worry. What a jagged enormous pill that was to swallow.

My mental health is vital for his mental health. Talk about interdependence.

This just ups the ante for me to be on my A game as much as possible.

The stakes are high for everyone.

But I mustn't let that fluster me. I must just accept it and take great care of myself and my family, so that our collective worries shrink away and our confidence soars. 

Let Go

Sometimes I look at my children in utter amazement that they are mine. They came to be because of me and my husband. They are such miraculous creations and are becoming more and more independent, which is right and good and healthy.

And makes me want to cry. I know, I know, they can't stay babies forever, they've got lives to live, but my son is eleven and my daughter is nine. In seven or eight years they could be out living on their own working or going to college. The mind boggles.

Very big changes are lurking within them. Puberty will be experienced at the same time as perimenopause--good luck to my poor husband on that score.

It is hard to let your kids go when they need to go do whatever it is they're doing. You want to shield them from any suffering, but that's not a life, that's prison. They have to get out there in the world and taste what it has to offer, and stumble and fall and get back up again. I'm working hard on letting go, but it ain't easy.

Nobody said it would be.

Connectedness

Much of Buddhism centers around interbeing and interdependence. Never does that feel more real for me than when I spend time with friends and/or family. I'm coming off a speedy but excellent visit with my best friend. We can talk to each other about anything, and we do. We complete each other's sentences, we enhance each other's lives immeasurably.

While we speak on the phone weekly, nothing beats being together in person. I am always saddened when we part because we are so connected. I miss her all the time. I do, however, always feel connected to her, and not just because of the phone calls. I've known her for nearly thirty years, so she is simply a part of me and who I am. She improves my life so much.

I'm very thankful for her and for the sustaining relationship we have. I also feel very blessed (for lack of a better turn) to have great connections with my family, especially my mother and sister. We are all connected, too. And of course there's my amazing kids and awesome husband, who are my anchors in this life.

So hooray for connections. They make the world sing.

Choo Choo

There is something incredibly soothing about taking the train. I'm currently on a five and half hour trip to be with my best friend for 24 hours and I'm loving it. There's wifi, verdant scenery, and enough time to take a nap if I feel the urge.

It's the ultimate in security in a way, because everything is out of your control. Rather than angsting on a plane or car or boat, on a train, at least, it's nice to sit back (and not get motion sickness) and not have to do anything. Let go, as it were.

Letting go is the hardest thing.

I'm constantly searching for a way to train my brain to LET GO. I'm reading various self-help books and more scientifically based on my condition. I have a new road on which to travel with my new diagnosis. Mindfulness is even more important than ever. And the ability to let go and just be is my goal and challenge.

Thank you, Amtrak, for a few hours of peace.

Resisting Change

I'm having a challenging time with this whole transition out of school thing. We're all at loose ends and not sure what to do with ourselves. Camps don't start until next week, and I want my kids to have free time to play and yes, be bored. (It's working.)

We are having a playdate this afternoon. It feels funny to call it that with kids aged 9 and 11, but that's what it is. It will involve my socializing as well, which is good for me, but as with everything else, a change. I've become so comfortable living my solitary-during-the-day-life. Now I have different demands on me and I have to remember that this is all fleeting.

Everything is ephemeral, and everything is born, and dies. So too with chapters in our lives. So while I may be a bit uncomfortable in this chapter, there will be another one before I know it. My challenge is to stay in the present moment and not worry so much about the future. This has always been my challenge and when there's change around, I get more anxious.

I was also reminded last night of how important exercise, vigorous exercise, is for me. If I don't get it, I get wound up pretty tightly. So even though the daily schedule is different, I still need to get my exercise and meditation in. I missed the latter yesterday and I could feel a difference. These two things are my salvation. The keys to mental peace.

So I try to roll with the changes, and if I'm comfortable, that's great, and if I'm not, oh well. Blink and the situation will be different anyway. I need to lean into the change, charge into it like a buffalo in a rainstorm. (They run directly into storms, unlike other animals, and as a result, actually become less wet. It's true.)

School's Out

And the neighborhood drama begins anew. There is this angel-faced little boy with a lot of problems who tends to provoke the other children, and cries foul when people do not want to spend time with someone who speaks or treats them in an unkind way.

It is all of impossible not to sometimes feel antipathy for this child. And yet, he is still just a child. I am more afraid of who he will become than who he is, if he follows the trajectory he is on. He knows no limits and is left alone outside for hours at a time without supervision. He is seven. 

Sure, it's not crazy to be unsupervised for a bit when one is outside on a cul de sac with the babysitters and stay at home mamas on patrol. We always need to know where our children are, even and especially if they are out of earshot.

We all watch out for each other on this street. But I feel sorry for the little boy who has such a hard time playing with others. I want him to be happy, but not at the expense of my children's feelings. And who is watching him?

What a dilemma. I've coached my kids about what to say to someone when they're teasing or being rude or, more accurately, talking smack about them. But it is so very hard for my own children to stand up to this child, to take the power back from him. They are working hard at it, and they are trying to be tolerant, but everyone has a breaking point, including this little boy. And that's what scares me.

And it Begins...

Well, the drama continues. My son had a rough day at school today, and was in tears at pick up time because "everyone expects me to do everything and I can't because of my cast". He feels ganged up on and that people are ignoring this limitation that he temporarily has.

I tried to comfort him with the fact that overall he is so conscientious and such a hard worker that people are used to being demanding of him, and may forget, even though it's staring them in the face, that he has a temporary disability.

It is so hard to watch him suffer, and feel him shutting me out. Is this tweendom beginning? He does this thing where he willfully obscures a subject. It's most vexing. He'll say he's hungry and not hungry and have a hangdog look about him. It's like he wants help but he doesn't. Hey, that definitely sounds like tweendom!

Is there a section in the bookstore for tweens in casts? Cause I could use a few pointers, no pun intended.

What Goes Around Comes Around

So my last blog post was kind of prescient. My son, after being told repeatedly in the same day, not to wear his roller blades in the house or on the front step, fell and broke his elbow when he slipped on the step.

He was so upset and clearly in pain, so off to urgent care we went. They took x-rays, but didn't see a break. Sigh of relief. The next day, the urgent care people called and said, whoops, looks like there's evidence of a fracture after all, please come in for a splint and then get ready to see an orthopedist about a cast.

So my son and I went and got him a kelly green cast that he has decided he does NOT want people to sign.

What a painful way to learn a lesson. He is learning to adapt to life with one functioning arm and hand. I hope it adds to his growth, and not his frustration. This is a learning opportunity for all of us. We need more patience with our little patient. This will be our challenge.

Letting Go of Control

The older my kids get, the more independent they get. This is normal and developmentally appropriate and everything, but it doesn't address how hard it is to let your kids go and do things and think thoughts that are not influenced strongly by YOU, the all-knowing (ha!) parent.

Learning to trust your tween--is there a book out there with that title? If there isn't, there should be. My children are both growing up, natch, and my son is now 11. Which makes him a tween. He is not a typical kid by many measurements, but he is behaving like a tween when he says he'll clean up his room "in a minute" which means NEVER, and "Hang on" means wait fifteen more minutes than you'd intended to.

You can't live your child's life for you, but nobody told me how hard it would be to let go, or let looser, and see your children challenged and struggling. In Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet", he says you have to let your kids out into the world, they are "yours and not yours". Of course he said this in beautifully poetic language which I am too lazy to look up right now.

But the point remains: we have to learn to trust our children to make good decisions, and when they don't, to allow them to fail, within reasonable limits.

There is no how-to manual for dealing with letting go in your heart and your head.

Popping In

It's been awhile. I've been busy living life, so no complaints on my end. I am finding myself embracing my autonomy for the first time in my life, and it feels good. I am also dialing down the drama (that's a good slogan, so alliterative) so that when I start to feel about to be swept away by a thought or feeling, I can meta myself out of it and see how I so often make much ado over absolutely nothing.

I've wasted years of my life making much ado over nothing! It's scandalous. But I won't make the mistake of fussing about that. That'd be sad AND hilarious. Oh my god, I'm worrying about my past worrying!

Anyway, I don't have any pearls of wisdom today. Just trying out my wings and seeing what's out there. Trying to walk the middle road. Always the middle.

My Ninja Cats

It is nice to share a space with pets. Even though it's dirtier and messier, having a purring furball on your chest can be very therapeutic. I call it "purrrrification", ha. Seriously, I'm glad we got pets six months ago. I hadn't been that keen on the idea of it but it's turning out to be fab.

The two cats we got are sisters and couldn't be more different. They're both hilarious and lovable and even though their litter really stinks, I'd rather have them than not. They keep me company and purr at me and that really makes my day.

I know plenty of people who have therapeutic pets. Your reason for getting a pet may be one thing, but the therapeutic effects are always the bonus. My mother and sister each have dogs who are very much part of the family and good for their mental health as well. 

Pets rule. And drool. But you get used to it.

Bit by Bit

The Buddha said that "a jug fills drop by drop". This is kind of how I view my healing from the onslaught of the past year. Every day, I am a little bit better, a little bit stronger. I feel well overall, but I know that does not mean I will never swing high and low again. I won't wake up and "not have" this condition, but it doesn't have to drive me. I choose a healthy model, not that of victim or illness-oriented or invalid. I have wonky brain chemistry and I need to watch out for myself more than the average bear, but a diagnosis does not have to define or, worst of all, invalidate me. I can be strong and successful on my own schedule.

What I do know, or have come to understand, is that if I keep watch on my swings, they need never be as severe as last year's. Not that I won't have some highs and dips, but they do not have to be so awful because I am tuned into myself much more and at every step ask myself, "Is this good for me in terms of self-regulation or is it not"? That has to be how I inform every decision I make, even the most mundane.

So I am taking things slower than I want to, because I'm still trying to figure out this balancing act on the tightrope. I'm constantly adjusting for wind and other forms of resistance, and there is a safety net below, fortunately, in my friends and family.

And it helps so much that it's actually starting to look and feel a bit like Spring.

Suffering in Others

It is so very hard to sit and watch someone you love suffer. This is how it is with my son and his anxieties and fears. I have newfound respect and empathy for my parents as they watched me struggle in a similar fashion as a child. They were stymied by my fears, and I could not articulate them. They sought help, naturally. But OCD was not well known and I couldn't even begin to express the awful demons in my head, so diagnosis was not confirmed until I was in my early 20s and OCD had come out of the closet.

Fortunately for my son, he already has some metacognition about his situation. He knows he has OCD and sees it as something a part from him, that he combats. He named his OCD Adolf Ricochet, which is brilliant if you ask me.

Anyway, we had an intake appointment as a prelude to a full psychological evaluation which is coming up next month. I hate to subject him to the scrutiny of doctors, but we need to know what we're up against. We know he has some issues, but other issues (co-morbid conditions, in psych-speak) are less clear. So we're looking for a differential diagnosis. (Yet more vocab I'm learning) (And I thought I knew therapy!)

It is just challenging to realize that you can't fix your child's problems, that you have to just be there with them to the best of your ability and try to be the calm, assured grown up. This is so much harder than it looks.

The sheer weight of responsibility is a mantle you don the minute your baby is conceived, which you will wear it until you die. That's kind of intense. When I see pregnant women, I just laugh. They have NO idea what they're getting into. You think pregnancy's hard, try the next step. It's the toughest job you'll ever love, to paraphrase an old army/navy slogan. (Or was it for the peace corps? One or the other.)

Toughest job. 

Positively Engage

I'm noticing that the best way to connect with my family and friends is in the little things. A quick text, hug, or game of cards, all can bring us together, if only briefly. I am trying to be alert to these opportunities as opposed to bemoaning the lack of connection. (See previous post)

In that post, I questioned our screen culture but didn't elaborate. What I find troubling about the screen culture is two-fold: it shortens our tempers and attentiveness because we're always looking for immediate gratification, and often getting it. Two, it is not socializing to all be in a room on a separate screen; too much screen is detrimental to our social skills.

How much is too much? That's a subjective question, and each person has to figure it out on their own, or, if a child, have it imposed on them. I try not to resent the screens but see if they can be used creatively. I just signed up my kids for electronic arts classes--video game programming and animation, respectively. Both classes use computers or tablets of some kind.

Because while I may complain about "screenhead" and too much time spent in front of the computer/iPad, our children need to know how to use the technology that is their present and our future. The job market of the future requires children to be tech savvy. I like the idea of these classes too though because of the creativity. Using technology creatively is brilliant, and does not cause "screenhead" because it serves a larger purpose and you inevitably interact with others while learning how to do it, and in sharing what you've created, and in celebrating each other's creativity.

There will still be plenty of summer days to spend outside, screenless.

Connecting with Others

Just spent the week with a visit from my mother. We always have such interesting conversations. We talked about all sorts of things, ourselves, the grand children, cousins, and so on.

It is always so hard for me to say goodbye to my mother when she leaves. I feel a sense of mourning when she leaves and it rips me up a bit each time. I love her so much and feel such a kinship with her. I can talk to her about just about everything and she'll listen and even understand! What a deal.

So I'm grateful for our fab visit and a little low now that it is over. But like all feelings, this sadness will pass, and happiness will come in the anticipation of our next meeting this summer, with hopes for more connection and fun to come.

Speaking of connection, I'm feeling pretty connected to my improv class. It's nice to have a group of people interested in the same things as me. It's been such a long time since I've done something that was wholly my own.

I wish there could be more connection at home. Everyone is deep into their screens and their alternate realities. I crave connection at home. I guess I just have to keep looking and whenever there's a window of opportunity for connection, to take it. 

This whole screen culture is a tricky business.

Whether the Weather

The sun is shining and that brings me hope, even while two days ago it snowed gigantic, fluffy flakes. I'm determined for it to be spring. The calendar must not lie! It's spring now, full stop. Why is it still cold? I persevere in spite of the cold if only to catch a few rays of the temperamental sun that comes and goes here as it pleases.

I've noticed that most of my female friends and acquaintances are quite stressed out these days. In fact, I seem the least stressed out of all of us, and that's saying something! Everyone seems irritable and anxious and angst-filled. Partly, I blame this on the weather. But perhaps it is something more.

Perhaps it is mid life crises, or chemical imbalances, or just a rough patch. It's easy to blame the weather for everything. I do believe it has a huge impact on one's mood, so it's a player in terms of how it influences people. But it's not always JUST weather. 

Why are so many women I care about unhappy? What does that say about our society? About our priorities? About life?

I don't know.

Adjustments

Still feeling mostly good and more engaged with life. I feel like I'm coming out of isolation, which is kind of true. Mental illness, especially depression, can cause a self-imposed exile.

I'm organizing my volunteer teaching for this semester for one day only. It will be a busy day, but since I'm there, I might as well jump, (jump!). This will help test my resilience and ability to show perseverance. I mean, if I want to someday work at this school (I do) then I need to be able to show that I can at least do two hours of teaching in a row! Granted, what I do is more performance than anything, but I'm hoping to shift that so that it's more guided by the kids' energy as opposed to mine. I'm not spending a long time prepping because this is casual and low key. I need to keep it that way.

I realize I am getting a bit grandiose when I think about taking the next improv class and teaching at my kids' school. I'm a dreamer, but I also know I'm not going to just sit home and collect dust for the rest of my life. I need action and connection. Don't we all.

So I'm watching my inner gyroscope to see where it needs adjustment. Doing this blog is one way for me to slow down and process what's going on in my life and in the present moment. Improv is actually very Buddhist. You are in the moment and you accept what you get, without aversion or struggling to escape. I hadn't made that connection before.

As Keanu Reeves says, Whoa.

Looking Up

The data of my past month shows me that I am consistently doing much better. So much so, in fact, that we are coming to the "What's next?" conversation. My husband and I need to have that, and we kind of started it this past weekend.

I know of a few places I could look to work at, mainly places I've worked before. But I want to be sure I'm not throwing myself out of the frying pan and into the fire. I feel burned by the blow-out that happened to me last year.

But I need to remember that there are many differences between me now and me then:

-I'm differently medicated
-I have great therapy
-I know myself a lot better with the new diagnosis
-My attitude is positive
-I'll only look for part time work for the future
-Am doing part time volunteering now which is satisfying and not stressful

It's hard for me to tell if I should try to take a very different direction from the one I was going. I feel at my best when I'm in a classroom, regardless of the age of the students. And I am limited to school year hours because it is simply too expensive and stressful and unrealistic to try to cover nearly 12 weeks of child care for my own children while I work somewhere.

I'm even thinking about subbing again, which I haven't thought about for ages. I do have some ambivalence there, but frankly I have ambivalence about just about everything right now. I feel too old to start over and I just got my degree, and I want to use it. Just not full time with two year olds. That's the take home.

So I'll start sniffing around with NO COMMITMENT at this time, just testing the waters, and see what happens. Just getting back to volunteering has lightened my spirits. I think it will soon be time to start talking to people, seeing what makes sense and what's feasible.

Baby steps. (I hate that expression but it's quite appropriate in this context.)

Drop by drop.

Letting Things Be

Now that we are in weather that allows for some degree (ha) of playing outside, we're confronted with the social challenges that a street full of kids engenders.

There have been politics and hurt feelings, but those fences are mended now.

What I need to do is back off and not be a helicopter parent. When my son said he was going over to a neighbor's house, one resident of which had caused him emotional harm in the past, he said, "I'm not the same sensitive boy I was. I can handle him." Wow.

So it makes me happy to see both of my children outside and playing and dealing with the real world. I reminded my son and daughter, you don't have to best friends to play with somebody, and if someone isn't nice, you don't have to hang out with them. 

And similarly, my kids are of an age when they don't need me hovering around them. They are bright, capable, sensitive kids (in spite of what my sons declares) who can determine if they are in an uncomfortable situation and if so, how to extricate themselves from it.

I need to chillax. The kids are fine. I need to let them be.

Mindful Methods

So I'm reading "How to Train a Wild Elephant" and it's really interesting. You're supposed to focus on one chapter a week, which means adopting one mindful activity per week. Being the ever-zealous type, I've fast-tracked this process and am kind of working on several at once. They're really cool and kind of fun, too.

For example, the author suggests that you pay attention to your hands for a day (or a week), and notice how much they do for us that we barely notice. They are magical appendages, when you think about the things they can do. And we rarely think about them.

The latest challenge I'm on is to write down ten things you're grateful for each day. I've tried but not sustained such efforts in the past, but I will do it on my phone because I have the "Gratitude" app, which periodically chirps at me and reminds me to be thankful for all that I have. So I'll make my list on those, starting tonight.

I think the gratitude list will come to me easily. I'm feeling pretty grateful for my life right now, and for the people in it.

My writer friend told me about a call for written pieces on mental illness for an anthology, which has me wondering, if I wrote an essay about my experiences, what would I say? Where would I begin? Something for me to think about. Stay tuned.

Just Show Up

My improv class went really well. I realized that I am very rusty and that my thinking is slowed down significantly since I was sick for so long. I feel as though I've been tinkering with an old car in the garage--I've been up on concrete blocks for over a year, and now I've actually got wheels on the car so I can go places. Holy shit, start the car!

The improv teacher is very cool, funny and nice. As are the people in the class, it seems. I had to concentrate more for those two hours than I have in ages. We had a lot of laughs and I can tell I am going to learn a lot from the class. In the entrance lobby there was a chalkboard with the message "You are ENOUGH". This is my kinda place! How Buddhist.

I hadn't known how this class would be, and this caused anxiety/excitement. Apparently there is much more to improv than I had, in my mild hubris, thought. I assumed that with two degrees in Theatre and a current job teaching improv to little kids that I might be "too advanced" for the beginner's class. Ha! Hardly.

There is long form and short form, not just what I called regular improv. There is musical improv and there is a format of performance called a "Harold" which can be the basic structure of an entire series of live or pre-written performances. Wow. 

So there is PLENTY I don't know, and I am glad to have "beginner's mind" again. It is fun to be doing something new and outside the house and just for my self-expression and happiness. It is turning Sunday afternoons into anticipated times, as opposed to dead air times.

So I am showing up, and I'm doing what others are doing, and they don't know what I've been through, and I don't have to tell them, and I don't know their details and they don't have to tell me. It's a clean slate, taking a class full of perfect strangers. I am going to learn a lot about these people, and, I'm sure, myself.

I just need to show up.

Saying Yes

I'm excited/nervous today because I have my first improv class. It's improv for beginners, because in spite of my years of professional performance experience in improv. I haven't touched that stuff in over fifteen years. Will it be like riding a bike, in feeling natural even after all of this time has passed, or will it feel new? I'm trying to enter with Beginner's Mind and not Hubris Head.

There's a great book called "Improv Wisdom" which I love and have gifted as well as received. It applies improv rules to daily life. It's very Buddhist in its "say yes to the present moment" tenets.

I hope to find a place of community at this class. But I want to be realistic: this is not going to be life altering, it just feels huge because it's the first big thing I've done on my own in over a year. No pressure. (Ha!)

So stay tuned for stories from Improvland. I'll be doing my best to stay in the moment, and in this moment, I am going to finish up here and go take a run to find my center, which I need to be balanced.

Drop by Drop

It's weird to feel so good these days. It just goes to show how long it's been since I've felt even remotely "normal" or at my baseline for contentment. It is almost shocking to me that I don't feel despair and crippling anxiety. The anxious person in me is waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I think it already dropped, last year, right around this time of year, in fact.

And this year, at this time, I am on my way up from the abyss. Spring is coming, I'm taking good care of my kids, I'm trying to give my husband a break since he is working so much, and I'm taking care of myself, too.

I guess this relates to Buddhism in that quote "A jug fills drop by drop." Little things make a difference over the long haul. I have been slowly chipping away at my insecurities and issues and I'm coming up with an adult I can be proud to call myself.

In the same vein as the above quote, I've started doing little things every morning to keep the house tidy. If I spend five minutes in every room in the house, it's amazing how much nicer everything looks. And I'm reading "How to Train a Wild Elephant" and it's full of these great exercises, one of which is "Leave no trace." You're to leave no evidence that you've visited a room--bathroom, kitchen, whatever. And then the next challenge is "Leave the room better than when you came in." I really like that philosophy. I'm feeling very spring cleany so this goes a ways to inspire me.

Off to do more puttering.

Choice and Change

It's been awhile. Lots of stuff going on on the emotional level. Investigating mental health care options for my son as well as managing my own. I've come to the conclusion that I like this whole being an adult thing. In the past I have spent too much time acting like a child when it would have made life easier if I had taken a more mature route.

I'm not saying everything I did sucked because I'm a big fat baby. But at times, I've given away my autonomy at the cost of my maturity. I've always done things because other people want me to do them. And I'm not so sure that's how to live a happy, healthy life. It isn't healthy to have "the disease to please" to the extent I do. And many others I know, too.

This is not to say that input from others holds no value. Naturally different people have different concepts of you, which may or may not overlap with your own self concept.

I'm just learning to notice my feelings more and the fact that I am making choices even when I think I'm not. Everything is a choice. And I am the only one who can make choices for myself, ultimately.

This feels like a big discovery to me. Where the hell have I been all these years?

Home/Hearth/Health

These past few days have driven home my new credo: health starts at home. Home is where the heart is, and it's where the soul is, and the state of your family depends on a harmonious home.

Our house hasn't been harmonious in over a year. The tumult of a new mental illness diagnosis and a botched attempt to work full time threw everyone in my family into a spin that we are only now beginning to recover from. (And yes, I know I ended that sentence incorrectly, it's just something you'll have to deal with.) (Ha ha.)

Today I made homemade soup and chocolate chip banana bread and I made another call to another place that I hope will help my husband and I to help our son with his high anxiety and OCD. I call that a good day. I did for others more than for myself and that is going to pay off in harmony.

I've been so obsessed with my own issues and professional future, I lost sight of the most important thing: family harmony. I'm not saying I won't ever work full time, but right now it is not a good idea for a myriad of reasons, primarily the fact that it would throw us back into tumult, which is the last thing we need after the past eighteen months.

I think by tending to our environment, I'm also helping with family comfort and positive well-being. So I guess it's sort of tending to your own yard before worrying about anybody else's. What a concept. I could end up baking cookies and organizing some drawers before you know it. But don't expect me to start embroidering a sampler anytime soon. I'm not Martha Stewart (and I never will be, much to my mother in law's chagrin). I mean, let's be realistic. 

Home is where the heart(h) is. Let's keep it simple.

Moving On Grown-Up Style

Another grown-up thing happened to me today. My neighbor approached me after a tiff of sorts estranged us from one another over a year ago. She just came up to me and spoke her piece/peace. I did the same. And now the pathway is clear again for friendship, or at least satisfactory getting along-ship. What a relief.

This whole acting like a grown up is boss. It feels like the air is clearing around me and I'm able to see better. I'm about to start reading David Richo's "How to be an Adult" which I look forward to. I loved his book "The Five Things You Cannot Change". I still refer to it on occasion because he distills such truisms in five categories:  there is pain in life, plans change, people are not loving and loyal all the time, everything changes and ends, and life isn't fair.

Just think of the social skills and grace you could achieve if you truly accepted these truisms. Think of how much happier you'd be! Well worth working on.

So I'll be curious to see how this other book goes. It's got a bit of a woo-woo type vibe, (a little Jungian, too) and doesn't appear as overtly Buddhist as much of his other work is. Maybe he wrote it earlier in his career, because he's pretty darn Buddhist in his newer work.

So we'll see where this takes us on this journey of discovery. It feels good to be making peace and getting on with things. 

Growing Up

For the past two days I have felt more "normal" than I have in months, nay, a year. I think part of the reason is I had a breakthrough in therapy wherein my therapist called me on my shit and made me face some realities that I didn't want to.

It can be very upsetting to be told you're acting immature, especially when you didn't realize what you were doing was immature, but was just the go-to response in crisis. I think I have been relying on fleeing when the going gets tough, and it's time to face up to that and learn to be an adult.

Adults solve problems, they don't run from them. Arguably I am facing my condition head on as an adult, but there are whiffs of "woe is me" that I need to nip in the bud. I am lucky to be where I am today and I am fortunate in my station in life, regardless of any diagnoses I may carry. They needn't be a burden; just obstacles or challenges that I face as an adult.

I do think I'm child like in some ways that are not destructive. I still love Hello Kitty and I'm not ashamed of saying it. But I need to watch that I don't infantalize myself. I am grown, I have children to take care of regardless of my issues or illness. I have the most serious job there is--parenting.

So maybe I'm feeling better because I'm growing up and learning not to give up.

Oh, and the days are getting longer. Viva el sol!

Self Regard

"You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection."
                                                                                    --Buddha

Why is this so difficult to do? Every free thinking female I know has self-esteem issues. And I think men do, too; they're just not talking about it like women are. (But I could be wrong.) All of the women I'm close to have self-confidence issues in some or many areas, myself included, obviously.

I've been advised by many a therapist to stop beating myself up, which I understand intellectually, but have trouble enacting psychologically in my day to day life.

Lately I've taken to imagining a version of the venerable Thich Nhat Hanh talking to me, telling me I'm as good as everyone else, that I'm perfect as I am, that I am allowed to be on the earth doing my part to be kind and peaceful. I feel like if I actually met him, I'd faint or burst into tears with exhaustion and relief. I think many of us are waiting for external validation, and that just doesn't always come. One needs to be able to validate oneself. But years of self-flagellation make that difficult.

So I try to summon Thich Nhat Hanh's voice in my head, telling me to savor the moment, that I am loveable and valid as I am. I really need to hear that right now. And I know so many people who do, too.

A true Bodhissatva is a peaceful warrior and who better to make peace with first than yourself? 

Gentler Words, Gentler Mind

It seems so obvious to me now, but I didn't realize how many of my interactions with my kids were simply orders or directions, or even judgements about how long they were taking or things of that nature. I don't think of myself as impatient, but I caught myself being short with my kids when there was no need to be. 

So I made a concerted effort to tread more lightly, and to find the positives (because there are always positives) and not just be the drill sargeant as I am wont to do as a parent.

It has already made a difference in the right direction. There is less tension in the house, drama between the kids is lower, and I feel like a decent person who doesn't bark at her kids.

I'm probably exaggerating about my negativity; I'm not mean and I don't say mean things or attack others verbally. But a cranky tone can set the household tone, and I don't want that to be the tone of my house. We only have these years when we are all under the same roof; best to enjoy them because they are whizzing by.

So a small attitude shift for me has already made a difference with my kids. That's encouraging. 

I'm also finally getting to interview to volunteer at the library. It's been weeks in coming and today I gussied up and am ready to go even though I have a good half hour or more before I need to leave. I'm excited and a little nervous, and also happy to have an opportunity to get out in the world again.

Wish me luck.

In the Moment

Spent a nice afternoon with my kids today. We were all in the same room, will wonders never cease, and we were doing different things. It was quite lovely in its simplicity. I watched my son play his goofy video game, Fancypants, and talked to my daughter about the toys with which she was playing, which I had played with over 40 years ago. Man, does that make me feel old!

But the memories of playing with those old Fisher Price toys are good ones. She plays just as I did, on her own (or with a friend or sibling, if available) and makes up her own elaborate stories. She can go for hours. I remember the same thing from my childhood.

Talk about an excellent example of living in the moment!

Kids express their Buddha nature with such ease and freedom. Where do we get separated from it along the way to adulthood? And how do we get it back?

Another Metaphor

Projects

Well, I'm getting bored, so that must be a good sign. When I was really sick, I wasn't bored, I was just a lump. But I don't want to dive too quickly into another ocean just yet; my swimming skills are not up to par just now.

I have two different novels I've written that I'd like to do something with. (I know you're not supposed to end your sentences with prepositions, deal with it) I'd like to self publish but first I need the moxie to read them. It's a bit like seeing yourself on video or hearing your voice on a recording--you are both sure and not sure that the person is you, and you are shocked that this is who or how you sound or look.

With writing, I wrote in such a literal frenzy (NaNoWriMo--30 days to write a novel!) that I probably won't even remember parts of what I wrote. The writing process, at least for me in these two instances, was like a massive brain dump. I had no shortage of things to say.

It's the EDITING that's daunting. Guess I could just dive in and read a couple of pages a day. Keep it simple. Then I can consider self publishing or setting it out for critiques. I think it could be good for young adults. If I'm really serious about self-publishing, then I need to reconsider Facebook. Blorch.

I do not have a stable relationship with Facebook. I loathe it mostly and see it as a time-suck, but most everyone I know is on it, and if I have a book I'm trying to sell, I ought to have a page for it. I think you can make a page just for that, not just your personal page. Surely there are classes on this somewhere that I could take, or websites to walk me through the process.

So I have things in mind. I'm just trying to do them in slow motion. Trying to stay on the middle way.