Tag Archives: feelings

# ENCOURAGER SOCIETY

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I’m finally here to see if I can impart some thought, some wee bit of wisdom. Mostly I’m here to tap myself well. It’s not that I am ill or anything.  I am languishing too much. I’ve let go of the glue that binds me. I want to stem the flow before all my goodness is gone. Lately, all that I can feel is the acridness of life. Can it seep into me from the forest fire smokes? It’s not a nice feeling. I want to curl my lips at everything. Sarcasm and cynicism course through me. Where happened to my annoying Pollyanna attitude? I want it back. I miss it.

Life is strange. I feel strange. It’s difficult to find kindred souls to hash it out. It’s not that I am afraid to talk. On the contrary. I tend to talk too much – but not to the right people. It’s gets me into trouble sometimes. The right ones are seldom visible. Not many are brave or generous enough to share face to face. I am happy to find a group of young and not so young women on social media who can and does talk about their experiences and feelings. They tag their posts with #encouragersociety. Bravo to them.

I don’t think it’s all about bravery or generosity that prevents people from talking and sharing. It also takes an enormous amount of energy. It does for me – to be present here and tapping out my words. I have this huge feeling of sleepiness. I would much rather lay on the couch with my tea and read my book. I would really like to just sit and close my eyes, not thinking or doing. It’s taking me two days to write this post. Finish today, I must.

I am sure that the approaching autumn and the shortening of days are affecting me. I am not usually bubbling over with energy or glee. That is not my natural self but I’m usually more alive than this. While I don’t think I am totally glum, I really have to work at feeling joy. I have to dig into self-help books. It makes me feel not so alone or weird to hear another express it on Instagram. On top of that she encourage others to keep on, that they’re doing great. Yes, encouraging each other helps alot. It helps to be reminded that we have a tricky brain. Everything passes. So carry on and pass it on. Light each other’s torch.

Mission accomplished. I can go back to my book. An easy read by Joy Fielding – The Bad Daughter. Ironically the main character is a therapist who gets bad anxiety attacks. Not very good reviews but it is easy reading. Works for my malfunctioning brain.

 

 

 

IN SILENCE AND STILLNESS

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How was your day? Mine’s just fine. It’s sunny and hot – 30 degrees Celsius. By now I’m acclimatized. It feels quite comfortable. The skies are clear, almost blue. No smell of smoke in the air though the fires continue to burn in British Columbia. Out of sight. Not quite out of mind but I’m feeling fine. Most recent mornings, I’m imperceptibly on the verge of tumbling over the edge. But I do have a choice on how I feel to a certain extent.

I do not want to fall into the dark abyss. I pull myself back from the edge onto firm safe ground. Even if I’m not exactly jubilant, I can be at ease. I don’t have to be bubbling over with good cheer. I’m not that way normally. So why fake it? I try to make a habit of putting some efforts to start the day consciously – in my demeanor and speech. Sometimes Most of the time I’m lazy and everything is a reaction, not a response. It’s a sure way of getting into trouble.

I’ll see how this change will work for me. So many things to think of. I wouldn’t have thought that life could be this strenuous. It never lets up nor would I want it to. It gives meaning having to work at it constantly. It gives meaning to the phrase ‘asleep at the wheel’. I have nodded off now and again. I guess that’s how things work. The momentum is ever changing. Nothing stays the same. What goes up must come down.

It’s been a glorious day. The first day in a long while that I could sit out in my special space. No extreme heat nor smoke to mar it. The dog and I took advantage to just sit/lay back and enjoy the moment in silence and stillness. There’s no need for noise. We hope you enjoy your day, too.

SUMMER TIME BLUES

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I’m just passed my least favourite part of the day – lunch and its aftermath. I don’t know why that is. Today is the worst. I haven’t fully recovered from my cold. I still have that occasional hard to shake cough, echoing head and the weak in the legs fatigue. I’ve been to the doctor 4 times this month though not all were related to my cold. The garden is begging some TLC. I’ve been poking at it, not even managing to weed my 2 rows of peas along the fence. They’re getting choked out by self-seeded cilantro and weeds. They’re also crying for water though it had rained the other day.

It’s been this kind of a summer. I’m feeling its blues. How could I not? I could be the poster woman for the all year round depressive. No, I’m not ashamed or afraid to talk about it. Maybe I should be  but what’s there to be afraid or ashamed of? I’m acknowledging my feelings and seeking solutions. I’m trying to engage my left brain and right brain in a dialogue with each other. Two halves can make a whole. Two heads are better than one. More is better. I’m trying to console myself. Self love. Talk about euphemism! I’m on a roll.

I think the after lunch dirty dishes, pots and pans are symbols of the mess of life to me. When I look at the whole enchilada scattered on the counters, I just want to close my eyes. My God, how in the hell can I put everything right again? I feel whipped with fatigue and helplessness. There’s nothing to do except sigh and move however I can and at whatever speed I can.

I am always delight in fooling my feelings. I take pleasure in showing them up. I can do more even though they sit on me and try to pull me down in the deep dark hole. Sometimes it seem like I’m moving like a robot. Mechanical is ok. I keep moving until things are done. The dishes, pots and pans are washed. The mess in the fridge calls out to me. I can hear it even with the door closed. That’s the thing. I know it’s there even when I can’t see it. I’ve learned I can rest better when I answer its call. It’s not difficult after all.

I know it’s summer and it’s holiday time. I think I’m suppose to be happy, carefree and having a whole lot of fun. But I was never that kind of a girl. I’m not that kind of a woman. Growing up as a child of immigrant parents in a small town, summer was never what I called ‘fun’. It was lonely. School was over and it seems the whole town was away on holidays except for us. That was my perception at the time.

That is my perception today, too. Everybody is on holidays and having fun, except me. The difference now is I know IT IS NOT TRUE. It’s just my blues vocal of the moment. Tomorrow I could be singing a different tune.

 

THE GREAT SALINE SOLUTION

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Summer is overrated. That’s what I think. Sometimes I feel mean spirited, like Lady Tremaine, Cinderella’s wicked stepmother. Am I, though? Is it true? Is it really true? That’s the question Byron Katie would ask. Am I mean spirited and wicked or am I just expressing how I am feeling about summer? Am I putting a monkey wrench into others’ summers? Then what about those people who hate winter?

Framed by those questions, I am not Lady Tremaine. I’m not out to spoil another’s summer. I am not feeling super duper cartwheeling happy at the moment. I am experiencing a pollen attack the last few days. My ribs are sore from coughing. My throat, constricted, itching and ready to cough my stomach contents out. My tongue feels burnt from sucking Fisherman’s Lozenges. What are they made of? I cannot blame myself for feeling miserable. I don’t lay my miseries on anyone but I’m guessing I’m not pleasant company.

I’m watching all those winged maple and poplar seeds flying through the air in great gusts. I haven’t seen such  big infestations as this year. They look like swarms of bees or other flying insects. They could be geese flying south but it’s the wrong time of the year. Nothing is the same anymore. Were they ever? I better tell myself to suck it up, buttercup. Better get use to it. The world has never been as it is now. It is truly amazing times we are living in. That is what Caroline Myss keeps saying. She is my guru.

Not to make myself a complete sour puss, I am feeling somewhat better. I started gargling with warm salty water since yesterday. My throat is not so tight. My cough can turn over now. The great saline solution! No wonder salt was such an important commodity in India back in the days when  Ghandi led their independence movement against the British. The saline solution is valuable today, too. As an intraveous solution, I see that it’s cheap to make. According to a 1993 source it fluctuates between 44 cents to a $1. But to buy is another thing. $85 for 500 mls. and $42.00 for a liter. Nothing about medical supplies costs makes sense.

That, as they say, is par for the course. Nothing much is making sense to me now. I’ll have to wait till my head clears. Maybe by then my throat would have lost its grip. I can talk then instead of croak. I better get some rest. My sleep has been interrupted by intermittent coughing fits in the night. Grrrr!

NO BRAIN SURGERY TODAY

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Wonder Woman

There’s anxiety and fear in going forward. But there is boredom and frustrations waking up to the same old, same old every day. So I ask myself, Are you a woman or a mouse? I choose the first. I don’t have to roar like Helen Redding. I don’t have to say anything at all but stand in my own two shoes, taking responsibility for my own words and actions. That’s all it takes.

Nevertheless I fuss and fret over what ifs and all the rest. I haven’t really totally accepted myself, the whole package of me. There will always be parts of myself, habits and all, that I will never get over. Understanding that helps. These are some of the things that I find difficult under the best of circumstances. Other people have other difficult things. Different strokes for different folks. Everyone have their forte.

The thing is I’ve never understood that my difficulties are not bad in themselves.  They do not make me a bad person. It means I have struggles. I am being human. Now I can stop punishing myself and work towards how best to resolve them. Letting go of feelings are hard. Letting go of thinking tougher yet. History is the most difficult to let go of. To help me, I think of the time when a crow flew by Sheba’s nose. She reared up and charged. Well, I HAD to let go of the leash. I hate to think of the consequences if I hadn’t.

It’s another hot day. I’m sweating, drinking hot decaf. I must be trying to sweat out my toxic thoughts. I have many that are still ticking away in my lizard brain. I’m trying to chill a little, slowing it down. Sometimes it’s not easy. I have a frenzy inside of me. I’m pulled in all directions, not focused on anything. It’s best I come here to have a slow conversation with myself. Best not to do any brain surgery if there is no emergency.

It’s past Sheba’s supper time. She is quiet upstairs cooling herself on the bare floor. She has never been downstairs. There’s no way to coax her either. Maybe it is just as well. No need for her hair to be everywhere though they still float down.

LIKE A DREAM LOST

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It’s upsetting how stress can upset my day and body, even though it wasn’t mine. And it wasn’t all that critical. What do you do when you share the household? You can’t help but listen and help with the problem solving. Well, everything is resolved after four days. Four days is enough for it to seep into my system and my dreams. Now, I’m left with the excess and residual frustrations. It’s very well for the guy now that he has received his supplies. He goes off to his workshop.

I’m left here to solve my own frustrations, how to best regain my composure to get on with my program and day. I do have one, an important one, however meager and nondescript it may sound. The goal of my program is how not to let problems be so frustrating that they disrupt and rob me of energy. Problems are to be solved. Frustrations cannot be avoided at times. It is best I learn the skill of ‘dissolving’ it. Let it flow out of me.

I can see now that after the frustration/anger or whatnot is resolved, their energy still hangs around. It is up to me to diffuse it. The rhythm of tapping is soothing for me. With each tap I feel myself feeling calmer and seeing clearly. My feelings are my own responsibility. I do have the choice of how I react/deal with any situation. I do not blame anyone for my own misery. I find it very interesting how the day can get away on me. Now I’m calling it back. I do have that ability.

The day did not get away on me completely. I recognized that my mind was disturbed and disrupted. I used that disturbed energy to do the dirty work – like putting in a load of laundry. The energy was there to be used somehow and lo and behold it was done and hung to dry without much effort. I proceeded to water my bedding plants. The butternut squash seemed to be outgrowing their pots. They were transplanted into bigger ones. All done without much awareness. It doesn’t matter. Things got done. I am now aware.

It is helpful to take stock, to physically tap out the letters, words and sentences. I feel as if my morning was a dream lost. I’ve recaptured it and more. Now on with the show. This is it.

OVERRIDING MYSELF IN microMOMENTS

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Here’s to me trying override myself using Sark’s Micromovement Magic Method. It’s nothing new. I’ve been using it. It helps that she’s given it a name and  made it into a  booklet form. Something written with colourful steps makes it concrete and magical. You can download it for free.

The magic lies in starting. It’s the alchemy moment. Once you start, the rest will follow. I heard that phrase in a yoga video. The instructor said, Bring one knee to your chest and the other one will follow. The sentence has played in my head many times when I am having difficult moments. I’m playing it this morning. So many yukking things weighing me down. Yup, they are not difficult but unpleasant for me to deal with. I don’t quite understand the ‘unpleasantness’.  It’s the procrastination that is unpleasant, the feeling of I should do it but I don’t want to. I’m transferring that remembered unpleasant feeling to everything I do. It’s become a bad habit.

My indecisiveness causes much unnecessary grief. There are so many things to agonize over. Most of the time they are not really worth it. For instance the recall of my car for faulty passenger airbag. What was hard about that? All I had to do is make an appointment and take the car in. They give me a ride back and forth. I don’t even have to pay. It’s not difficult now that It’s dealt with. But when I got the notice, I shovelled it under more paper. It’s my normal reaction – to be handle LATER. Ugh!

I’m trying to undo/override my habitual self in micromoments of 5 minutes at a time. I can make one dreaded phone call in 5 minutes. I can pay one bill in another 5 minutes. I can stew about a problem and options for 5 minutes and take another 5 to make a decision. Why don’t I take 5 and shed some remembered icky feeling and develop some delicious one to fill its place? Why don’t I….? Why don’t I….?

G IS FOR GUILT, P IS FOR PLAN

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I am slowly getting over my physical indisposition. At any rate, I’m not allowing it to affect my pyschological outlook. It was hard work though. I had to concentrate, talked to myself alot. You can choose, my inner voice lectured in my head. I gave it some thought and went down the optimist’s path. Better a high road than a low one. Isn’t that everyone’s advice?

At the end of the day, yesterday, my head was such a tangled nightmare. My hair felt electrofied, standing on end. All my work stations were jumbled messes. I felt nauseous. I would puke if I could. In the morning, things didn’t look quite as bad. So now, it’s my measuring stick for feeling sick or tired or both. It helped me to decide to stay home from my exercise class and not feel guilty about it. I’m a good example of someone being hard on herself. I wonder when I will feel grownup. I have nobody to answer to, not even a boss.

Somehow I do feel more grownup, having made that decision and some other choices. Today and now is always the first day of any change. Some routine makes for efficiency. Too much makes ruts. I need to work on my ‘mess piles’ since they do aggravate my well-being and hinder creativity. I’m always having to dig through to find things. I try not to let the thought of clearing and cleaning overwhelm me. I cleared my head, took a breath. I decided I would clear a spot/deal with a chore, one at a time. There would be no multi-tasking. I will have to put things away from now on. That is my plan.

To set things in motion, I renewed my library stuff online to avoid late fees. I had a due back soon email yesterday. I changed the bedding, laundered, dried, fold and put it all away. I did the dishes after lunch before taking Sheba to the park. We did the 2 laps around and no more, though we were asked to do another by 2 ladies. The good company was tempting but I stuck to my  plan. Overdoing had worn me out.

It is a little after 5 pm. The sun is still out. Looks like spring is here. My ‘work’ is done. Time to let go of the day. This is enough.

F IS FOR FED UP

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Do you get fed up sometimes? Today I feel at the maximum fed up level. February is l-o-n-g. I had set out at the start with such heart felt hope. This was suppose to be my feel good month. Not that anything is wrong or that I’ve been plagued with a truckload of disasters. None of that. I just feel such malaise even though the sky is blue and the sun is shining. I need another cup of decaf.

Perhaps it is because of my recent sinusitis of the past week and a half. Not that it was such a struggle. It was a tad tougher than my usual state for I am forever complaining a lack of energy, of joie de vivre. I’m fed up with being a wet blanket, a party pooper and being my worse enemy. It’s good to let it all out. This is my space, my confessional. It is where I come to cleanse my mind and soul.

It doesn’t help that my sleep is disturbed lately. I had nightmares a couple of nights back. I screamed and screamed in my sleep. I thought it was only in my dreams. I was stuck in an elevator with unsavory man. I was scared to death. In my dream, I had trouble getting my screams out. It wasn’t so in real life. I woke the guy and Sheba as well. Then last night, I had trouble getting to sleep. I got up and read awhile. Luckily that helped. I slept and dreamt as well. Lucky it was not a nightmare. I dreamt about little cupcakes. The cost was $15 for 15. I guess the cost is nightmarish. I wonder if it was those little unsavory Italian meatballs that triggered the dream.

It really helps to tap out my feelings, whatever they are. I was seeing the world through bleak eyes. I couldn’t see the point of anything. The world is gone to hell in a hand basket:

  • The war in Syria. Seeing the dead babies on the evening news.
  • The school shooting in Florida. Hearing a politician saying the teachers need to have guns when the students were crying for gun control

These are the two weighing heavily on top of all the others right now. What can be done to make the world and humans better? Being fed up is not the answer I know. Now the question is how do I get out of it? I bet Oprah would say, Live your best life. A good answer, I’m sure but it won’t do for me. It’s too generalized, too neat. I have to chip, tap and hack my way out bit by bit.

I’m a fan of Sue Grafton. You’ve probably deduced it by the title of this blog. Her detective series is just what I need on my not so buoyant days. Janet  Evanovich is in the same genre. I’m glad it’s women that help me get through the tough days. Their energy, humour and narrative story telling take me away from the moody blues into adventure and laughs. I have to love that.

So another day comes to an end. I’ve limped through it but I’m still standing. I’ve gotten up, dressed up and shown up. I had to work a little harder at it. It was my Olympic effort, not a Gold Medal but nothing wrong with a Bronze. My mantra was I can do this. I can do this. So it went. Now I have a few more trays seeded – 3 kinds of tomatoes and geraniums. The petunias and chili peppers have germinated. Things do look hopeful. The effort is worth it.

When I have a Sheba, I have to make an effort. She wears my moods so I had to show her that I was okay. Nothing to worry about. She is safe and cared for. She is her confident and happy self again.

 

 

COMMUNING ON THE MOUNT

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I very seldom sit in silence unless I’m reading a book. So let me clarify and say I’m seldom unengaged. I’m always listening, reading or watching something. My head is full of stuff – noise, news, gossip, emotions. Yes, I have to say I process feelings up there, too. Feelings invade my whole body. Dissatisfaction and envy makes me feel bad all over. Have you experienced it? It’s difficult to explain. I don’t really like to talk about it except here, where I can just mutter and tap without interruption or judgement.

I like to think I’m just going through seasonal and daily moods. I like to think I’m like everyone else. It’s not bad to have dissatisfactions and envy. I’m just being human. And isn’t it good that I have outlets? I get to spit out all this garbage on the page. I’m not poisoning myself holding it in and no one has to listen. Then I move on.

It’s another day. I have moved on. It’s another glorious sunny afternoon. Sheba and I will have another saunter in the park. Maybe we will find a few dogs to romp with. It’s good by ourselves, too. I like the peace and quiet of yesterday. Not too many souls about. It was mostly us and God. I got to commune with him on the mount in the crispness of the winter, under the blue of the sky. I heard and felt his presence. I AM HERE. Do not be afraid.

I believe him. We have communed in another time, another place. He has led me out of the shadow into the light. I am thankful for this opportunity and time in the desert. I can lay aside my thoughts, doubts, and fears. I will dwell in the wisdom of silence and nonjudgement. I will listen to the knowledge laden air. I will be patient and hold my tongue. My kingdom lies in the silence.