Might as well face it, I'm addicted to stress...

I'd like to share about a funny pattern I'm studying this week in my life.  It connects back to something my meditation teacher Brenda Morgan said at the retreat I went to in August, that humans have an "addiction" to stress and tension. As crazy as it sounds, that really resonated with me. I've been trying to study this in my life, and I'm noticing how my tendency is to actually make a stressful choice rather than an enjoyable one. Weird, huh?

Here's an example.  This past week I needed to deal with a car issue. On Monday of this past week, I needed to use about 1/3 tank of gas in my car so we could try one way of correcting the problem, in hopes of passing DEQ before my registration expired on Friday. My first reaction was to worry and obsess over the most efficient way to accomplish this... I considered just leaving it running in my driveway all day while I checked off chores on my to-do list at home, driving a few hours straight out and back on the highway, even trying to find a neighbor who might know how to siphon it out, and so on, until it occurred to me -- hey, I could do something fun, a little outing! The weird part was how much resistance I felt to doing this. The worry part of me wasn't very interested in having fun. Somehow having fun didn't seem right when I had this stressful problem to fix.

But the weather was beautiful, and I had made a commitment to working with this pattern, so my dog and I jumped in the car and drove out into the Columbia River Gorge, through gorgeous thick evergreen forest, to a beautiful viewpoint I'd never been to before at the top of Larch Mountain. It was wonderful!

By the time I got back and picked up my kids from school, I was pretty worn out, though. I was hoping to get to the mechanic and put in the fuel additive yet that afternoon, as I was concerned about passing my car inspection in time. And I wasn't even sure this was going to work yet! My "hurry get-it-done!" side was all about heading out right then before the mechanic closed up for the night. But I sat down in a chair, put my feet up for 10 minutes, and let myself relax before I made the choice. I could feel it wasn't right to push myself. I decided to wait until the next day.

And you know what? It all worked out perfectly. AND I was able to relax, take care of myself and have fun in the process.

So why did I fight this? My brain just wanted to obsess and worry about it, quick try this, try that, what if, what if, push push push. It wanted to do that way more than it seemed to want to take a beautiful drive in the mountains, or put my feet up for 10 minutes and relax even though the problem wasn't fixed yet. But boy did I feel so much better making the choice to enjoy myself, take care of myself... What a crazy addiction!

I am beginning to see how I constantly have a choice of how to relate to my daily issues -- and even just the flow of my day -- that is either stressful, or is a conscious choice to create or participate in something that helps me enjoy my life. And to trust that, no matter how much I feel that drive to keep pushing and solve it, fix it, get it done, that the real solution actually lies in opting out of that program, and choosing to love myself and my life instead.

I'd love to hear if anyone else has noticed this strange stress addiction in their own lives, and any ways you've found that help you make a happier choice instead!

A new way of feeling "sustainable living"

Today is the last day of school for my kids, and the past few weeks have been extra full with picnics, plays, and other special end-of-year commitments. I've been noticing my calendar get fuller and fuller, and at the same time, noticing my mood get worse and worse!

A couple days ago I was feeling the phrase "sustainable living" in a different sense than the environmental one...  I was feeling it in relationship to how I am living my life, from day to day. Because this too-busyness, and this grumpiness, don't feel like sustainable living! Not only do I feel I tired and burnt out, but then I start to lose my enjoyment of my life, and anxiety and depression start to creep in at the edges. Resentment toots its horn, and I realize my attitude through my days has shifted to something like, "I don't want to be here!"

Whoa, Nelly! That's not how I want to want to spend my days!

It isn't easy to break out of this go-go-go till I drop routine, but I want something more for my life than just getting things done. I want to try something new,  a renewed commitment to taking care of myself, to feeling my days through the lens of "sustainable living."

I want to try asking myself:
Is this sustainable for my physical health? Or am I wearing myself down?
Is this sustainable for my heart, my spirit? Am I waking up dreading my day, or feeling a love and tenderness for who I am, and for what my life really means to me?

And you know what seems to be the biggest key to making my days "sustainable" over the long term? Unscheduled time in my day. This has surprised me, the simplicity of this, just simply giving myself permission to feel, in the moment, what my heart longs for, and giving myself that gift, whether it's a walk outside, or an outing to a fabric store, or putting my feet up with a good book, or just relaxing in the sun and quietly breathing and listening.... There's something in this spaciousness that loosens my whole tight, stressful attitude, and helps me feel the bigger picture of my life again. How precious it is. How precious this time with my children is. How precious this body is that carries me around every day.

May I give myself this gift of spaciousness every single day, so that my life becomes even more than "sustainable;" may I truly remember my love for my life.

Happiest When I'm Sick?! Lessons from a Sickbed on Actually Enjoying My Life

I am almost 40 years old, and I have cystic fibrosis. The fact that I am alive to say that is a testament to the good health I have enjoyed for most of my life. In the past few years, though, my health has taken some unexpected twists and turns. My body’s needs have become more and more insistent, moving in and declaring, “My turn!” at random moments, sometimes hunkering down for months.

During these times I have needed to drop almost everything and focus nearly 100% of my attention and energy on getting better. Now, as a mom of two with a self-diagnosed “can’t sit down syndrome,” this hasn’t been easy! It’s been a knock-down, drag-out fight, learning to let go and give myself what I truly needed to heal.

But something really surprised me about those times. When I did let go, and just truly focus on what was needed to take care of myself, I felt happier about my life, more excited about it, more creative, more relaxed, more at peace with whatever was in front of me …. In short, I was enjoying my life more!

Then, when my lung numbers began to rebound and my energy started to come back, I would dive back into my to-do list, my day-to-day itinerary of the too-busy mom. And guess what?  I felt stressed, grumpy, harried. One day I woke up and realized I was living my life – healthy body and all – with the general attitude of, “I don’t want to be doing this.”

Wow! Talk about a wake-up call – I’m happier when I’m sick? I mean, I have a great team of medical helpers and my family and friends have been amazing supporters and all, but I’d really like happy and healthy to go together in my life!

Tired of resentment, I was feeling some real fire under me to bring this same love for my life into my “well” times. I began to really study what was different about how I approached my life when I was sick. Here is what I discovered:

1.   I KNOW I need to rest and actively take care of myself, so I give myself this gift.

When I’m healthy, the supermom drive kicks in. Even when I notice I’m getting worn out, I push through it, driven by some intense need to “get things done.” As I get more exhausted and frustrated by this elusive goal, my stress level rises. I lose my patience. I yell at my kids and am grouchy with my husband. I wake up at night, from stressful dreams, clenching my jaw. And whatever happened to that nice walk I wanted to take while the sun was out? That podcast I wanted to record? Oops – got away from me, too busy. I sometimes feel anxious or depressed because it feels like I have no identity other than as the “get-it-done robot.” Ring any bells?

When I’m sick, if I want any hope of avoiding going to the hospital – and believe me, that’s pretty far down on my list of fun get-aways – I HAVE to rest. I HAVE to take time to do my extra breathing treatments and clear my lungs. Not to mention, I have to go to doctor’s appointments and get lab tests done.  And then frankly, I’m tired. So I start at the beginning again, with more rest, and maybe a nice movie to watch. Maybe a short, gentle walk just to remember what the sun and wind feel like on my face. It’s like giving myself a gift: “Here you go, self, I can feel this is what you need right now. Enjoy.”  All that stuff on my to-do list that I was positive had to get done or the world would end? Read on!

2.   My relationship to my to-do list shifts so it is more realistic and in tune with my needs.  

You know what my first reaction is to being sick again? Well, my first reaction is, “Oh no, not again!” But very close on its heels is, “Whew! I get to take a break from my to-do list!” Seriously.  I sometimes wonder if I’m subconsciously setting myself up to be sick more often.

So what does happen with all those all-important tasks? Eh. Life goes on. Really. This surprised me at first – how could I have had 25 absolutely-have-to-get-done tasks last week, and this week, clear my schedule with one fell swoop? Some things just go on hold. Re-organizing my desk can wait, I realize. Even the dishes. We have resorted to paper plates on at least one occasion, and I felt inordinate glee when it occurred to me. I let some things go altogether – volunteering at school, for example. I have to come to terms with the fact that with this body, I may never again chaperone another event involving 20+ children (and I fought giving this up?). And third, and most importantly, I ask for help. More on this next.

3.  I ask for and let myself receive help.

Does anybody else have the “it’s gotta be even” thing? If I ask for help, I can’t ask for help again until I’ve repaid it equally? Where does that come from, anyway? Why is it so hard to ask for help? It feels connected to that supermom idea... Doesn’t matter if I have no family nearby, have two children, a dog and two cats to take care of, and have a chronic illness, I will do it all! By myself! Then I’ll really be somebody!

Really? Is that all it comes down to in the end? Because I’m here to attest, that as hard as I fight receiving help, it’s absolutely golden when it comes. On one occasion, my husband (unbeknownst to me) called his dad and asked him to drive 7+ hours to help us for a few days. I flipped out and immediately called dad-in-law back, “No thanks, maybe another time!” Then, when my health continued to worsen, had to call him back again that same evening – not kidding, just a few hours later – “Well, could you after all, if it’s not too much to ask...” There was some humble pie with the husband on that one. Especially since I proceeded to have the best week I’d had in weeks. Dishes? Done. Kids fed, to and from school? Done. That light fixture that needed replacing? Done. Me? Well, I was taking as long as I wanted to get up in the morning, enjoying a book, napping, sketching, feeling ideas for a new talk I wanted to give. At one point, I was so overcome with the joy of an open schedule, I was listening to the radio and spontaneously invited my husband to dance with me in the living room. And I had to ask myself, when’s the last time something like that has happened for me? Feeling so relaxed that I burst into joyous celebration of life?  And why would I fight this, just to prove I’m supermom after all? (I refer you to Item #1 above if you’d like to refresh your memory on how much fun that was for me.)  And the way I felt in those moments, leads me to my last revelation.

4.   I focus in on what matters most to me – celebrating my life, and expressing who I am.

So that’s the magical part of all this: when I take time to rest, and relax about my to-do list, and ask for help, it’s as if all these layers start coming off, one by one – expectations, self-imposed deadlines, accumulated identities, frustration and resentment, even that seeming constant companion, stress, pipes down for a while – and I can feel me again. And guess what? I like her. Me, not just mom or cook or scheduler or mediator, but who I actually am... spontaneous, playful, funny, creative, enthusiastic. It’s like taking a full breath and realizing I haven’t for weeks, quite possibly years. Rather than endless checkmarks, my life feels open-ended, like a choose-your-own-happy-adventure book, one where I want to explore all the possibilities. How about that watercolor class I was dreaming of? Taking my shoes off and loving the grass soft and warm under my feet? Lounging on the couch – without any laundry to fold – and just being present with my kids as they explore yet another fantastically messy (and wonderful) project?  Just be with them, let myself enjoy being a parent for a bit. It’s in those moments, that I realize what my life truly means to me, how much I want to participate in it, not just get through it.

I know it’s not realistic to think I can put all my obligations on hold indefinitely. And it can still feel surprisingly difficult to let go of that drive that says, “I can be it all! Do it all! By myself, by golly!” But recalling the happiness I feel when I do let go compels me to keep experimenting with it, taking a deep breath in that moment of resentment and saying to myself, “I am still here, under all these layers. I want to remember who that is. I want to spend some time with her, get to know her again. I want to remember how much I love my life.” And then taking even just 10 minutes to pause everything, put my feet up and do something I love, maybe some playful activity from childhood –sketching fancy dresses, or playing with silly putty. Maybe going so far as to write “FUN DAY” across a whole day on my calendar, or a few days, even. Why not? What is there to lose, really? And who knows what magic will unfold?