Tag: mindfulness

Posted on

Fall Love

There is something magical about fall. I know it, I feel it. But what is it? It feels like a time for renewal and growth, but everything around is dying. It’s a beautiful time of year, the trees are wreathed in flame; oranges, yellows and reds. As I think about this, I’m walking through a park. The grass is still green, there are leaves crunching under foot. I find a spot on a bench that’s bathed in sunlight. I can feel it warm me as the crisp, cool breeze caresses my skin, and I ask myself again, why is fall so special? Is it simply that school starts in the fall, and the excitement of a new school year has stuck with me? That could be, since I loved school, especially when I was a little kid. Is it the last hurrah before winter sets in and you know you’ll be stuck inside for the next few months? Or because it’s the time of year when I can wear either jeans or shorts, and I love that possibility. And sweatshirts and hoodies are awesome.

Spring is supposed to be the Earth’s natural marker for renewal and hope, and yet I have that feeling during the fall. My temperament can be on the depressive side, so maybe that’s why, because the reminder of death makes me feel alive. Or is it Halloween? It has always been my favorite holiday. So much fun can be had pretending you are someone else. Too many people forget to pretend when they “grow up” and they miss out on the magic of play.

And the smells of fall!! How to describe it? It’s mostly dead leaves, decaying on the ground, why would that smell amazing? Earthy and woody at the same time. It’s a time to smell the smoke from bonfires in the neighborhood. To warm your hands around a mug of hot apple cider or mulled wine and let the scent of cinnamon and other spices tickle your nose.

I’m an analyzer, it’s what I do. I like to think about things and wonder “why.” It’s part of who I am. And while all these things are fun to think about, what matters is that I take the time to enjoy them. To sit down in a patch of sunlight, listen to the leaves rustle at my feet while the scents of fall play on the breeze around me. It’s important to be present in life, to take time to enjoy it. So the “why” isn’t always important. Sometimes you have to “be” and enjoy that which you love.

That and get scared out of your mind when a squirrel runs between your feet from under the bench you’re sitting on because you’ve been still so long he thinks you’re just part of the scenery. True story.

Posted on

500 words – Day 2 – Questions and More Questions

I was having a good day today. For two days in a row, I received compliments from clients and I was feeling good. But then something happened. I got hurt by something someone said. Everything got derailed. It’s weird. I don’t think about myself as being that sensitive. I mean, I know I’m sensitive, especially for a guy, but am I really that sensitive? When it’s the right thing, apparently the answer is, yes.

So here I am. I had things I wanted to write about today, things that weren’t so…personal. But I’m at the end of the day and here I am. I need and want to get this done, so this is what I have. I don’t want to be here, don’t want to be around people. And I hate that word, people. Just sounds weird. But I digress.

I got hurt. So what? I usually can see things for what they are, let what people say roll off me. I understand how they have their own hurts, that most people don’t intend to hurt others with what they say, or how they say it. Understanding that I can let it go, not take it personally. But this one got me. Right to the core.  I was trying to figure out what it was that bothered me, why it bothered me, why I couldn’t let it go. I figured it out and almost started crying.

I realized that I like to help people (gee, wonder why I’m a therapist). Guess that wasn’t really new, but one of the reasons why was. It was that I like to help because I want to feel needed, that I have a reason to exist. To be of need. I like to do things for people. Is it because I care? Yes. But also it’s apparently for me. When you do something, not to help someone else, but because you want to be needed, it ceases to be about them and it’s really just a selfish act. Feeling like I’m kinda off track here, but the words are flowing and I’m not sure I want to interrupt.

Back to wanting to be needed. I do really like to help. It does make me feel good to help others, does that make it all about me? Maybe, sometimes. To be needed. The core of who I am? Not sure about that, but a part of who I am for sure. Why do I try and help people who don’t want it? Not always, but I do. And what is the difference for those I try to help that don’t want it and those I don’t try to help? The ones that I say can ask for help if they really want it? And, why am I surprised when I try to help someone who doesn’t want help and they get upset with me? Shouldn’t I just accept that? Not necessarily accept them being upset with me, but at least not be surprised and hurt about it.

Back, again, to wanting to be needed. It’s not really needed that I want, but to be accepted. To be loved. I guess on some level I associate doing things for people, being needed by them, with being accepted and loved. And when I try to do things for them, and it’s not wanted, I feel unaccepted and unloved. Which hurts to the core.

I usually try to end these things with what I learned, and I guess I kinda did. But really it’s just hurt that I have right now. That’s OK, I can sit with it. It’s not comfortable, but it’s real. I do know myself more, which I’m thankful for. And I feel searching yourself, learning more about yourself, is part of what life is about. And that’s always good.

Posted on

Back at it

Sooo… Two days ago a friend asked me how often I blog. My initial response, which I didn’t actually say was, “not often enough.” I didn’t say it because it felt like a put down on myself and I try not to do that anymore. What I did say was that I tend to blog in spurts, i.e. when the mood suits me. This has been characteristic of my life, I often do what I want, when I want. On the one hand, I kind of like living that way. On the other, my rebellious side kicks in and things I “should” do, or actually need to do, often get pushed aside until I get around to them. The quote (and I have no idea who said it), “do the things you need to do when you need to do them, so you can do the things you want to do when you want to do them,” often comes to mind. That’s something I do believe and it’s time to make that change in my life.

Then, yesterday another friend posted on his blog, Kale & Cigarettes, about an experiment he has done and is planning to do again. Writing 500 words a day and then posting it for everyone to see, and doing it for 30 days.

I’m doing this for several reasons. I see how this guy lives life what he’s done in life, and I think it’s pretty cool. While I have my own life to live, I do understand that there are certain practices we can incorporate into our daily lives that can make them better, closer to what we want. Daily blogging isn’t something I ever set out to do, but I used to journal daily and the changes I went through back then were pretty amazing.

I’m also doing this because, as I said earlier, I often only do things when I want, not when I need to do them. I recognize that my rebelliousness has served me in life, it’s a part of me that will probably always be there and one that I’ve come to recognize and enjoy. However, I’ll admit it gets in the way. When I want to do something and I know it’s good for me, but I don’t because of sheer stubbornness, it’s a problem. In a spoken word, Henry Rollins once said (and I’m paraphrasing), “Ruled by a plant, what  joke.” He was referring to drugs and alcohol but I think it applies to emotions and personality, as well. We all have them, it’s what makes us individuals, but we aren’t meant to be ruled by them.

I’m also hoping to become a better writer by doing this experiment. I’ve had many topics I’ve wanted to write about, but the “mood” just hasn’t hit me. One that I’ve tried to get out many times is living with depression, to try and explain what it’s like. I usually get about two paragraphs in and quit, it’s just too depressing, lol.

I guess I’m just looking to be a better person, a better man. I often fail miserably, but by making little steps in the right direction I hope I will eventually get there. So here is a little step that I hope will get me where I want to go. And in a salute to my rebelliousness, maybe I’ll only do 29 days. Or 60 days, who knows…

Posted on

Practicing Handstands

I did my first handstand press up the other day. It’s something that I’ve been working on for the past 9 months, so I am estatic that it finally happened. Of course, with the way my mind works, there’s a lesson in there. But first things first. For those of you who don’t know, a handstand press is when you start from standing, place your hands on the floor in front of you and, without jumping, simply lift your legs over your head. “Simply,” right? Hah! It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do and for months my feet wouldn’t even leave the ground. And I consider myself to be in fairly good shape. I’d also like to say my feet went right up over my head into the perfect handstand. Hahahahaha, nope. The truth is, the moment my feet went over my head I freaked out, fell out of the handstand and almost landed on my face. It scared the hell out of me, mostly because I didn’t truly think it would happen. I’m still learning how to do a solid handstand, and yet I can now, apparently, press my feet over my head. Who knew? 

So, back to the lessons. The easy thing to talk about would be about perseverance, and it’s true you have to keep trying things in order to get better. And learning can be a slow process. I’ve been trying to do a handstand press since the first time I saw someone do one. It was so cool to see them just lift their feet over their head, and I wanted to do that, too. And I’ll admit it, there’s a bit of my ego involved with this. But I couldn’t do it. I tried and tried and tried. For months. I took and a handstand clinic to improve my handstand. Maybe two. Or three. But the best I could do was to lift my feet an inch or two off the ground. Even that was sooooo freaking hard. I gave up for a while. Stopped doing handstands every chance I got and what little gains I had made, I lost. Then a couple months ago I started trying again. My handstand improved. Still no press, but I’ve been been able to hold a handstand for about 8 seconds.

Then, last week, I was hanging out with one of my friends, who is an excellent yoga teacher, and the woman I’ve been seeing, who is also an incredible yoga teacher. The two of them both start playing with their handstand presses (because they both can) and they start talking about doing this one simple thing that I’ve never even heard about. Bending your knees. I’m amazed. I go off into a corner (because obviously I don’t want to be out in the open if I fail) and I try it. I do it! It wasn’t pretty, I didn’t hold it at all and I almost fell on my face. But I did it! I was amazed and happy! I turn to the woman I’ve been seeing and asked if she saw it. She said “yes.” I said, “I had no idea that bending your knees could help you do a press.” Her response?? “Well, yeah. It makes it so much easier. But why didn’t you tell me you wanted to do a press? I would have told you that months ago.” Oh…

I now realize that doing a handstand press seemed so far away from me that I never really tried it around the people who could help, let alone ask them for help. Even though it was something I REALLY wanted to do. It was always a far off “some day” goal. And I guess I felt a little silly for wanting to try it. I got in my own way because I didn’t believe enough in myself. And because of that, I stayed on the edge of being able to do something I really wanted to do. For months.

But that’s ok. I know how to do it now. Now there’s just more practice and getting better. And being ok with where I am in life, even when I get in my own way, is simply another practice I am incorporating in my life.

So, lessons learned 1) the things we want are often closer than we think 2) even if we think it’s a ridiculous goal, ask others for help. For that matter, surround yourself with people willing to help, not those who say it can’t be done. 3) this goes with #2, but always tell people what you’re doing. Bring it into the light.

As I’m writing these down, I realize that I’ve heard them many times before. So it’s clear I needed a reminder. That’s ok, too. I’m good with reminders. I’m just gonna keep on practicing. Practicing my handstand, practicing my handstand press, practicing life. Because that’s what life really is, practice.

Posted on

Rage, Pain, and Sadness….Or, A Touch of Grey

Today, I signed the documents that will finalize my divorce and custody agreement for my son. It’s been a rough few months, and I realize now what’s been bothering me all this time. Why I’ve retreated a little from life…why I haven’t blogged in so long…or written anything…at all. It’s been tough to get out of bed, pay my bills, keep in touch with friends, maintain a healthy eating schedule. Pretty much anything that I “should” be doing. And then it all comes crashing down at once what is bothering me.

I’m a processor. It’s how I deal with life. Sometimes it’s fairly slow, as it was this time, and sometimes it’s, well, less slow. Oh, well. It’s who I’m am. I usually figure out what’s bothering me within two days. I’m ok with that. Or at least I’ve come to accept that is how I work.

So I signed the paperwork and talked with my lawyer for a bit. He kept assuring me about what I was signing and said things like, “this is really the best deal you could have hoped for,” and “this agreement will protect your rights as a father.” It all sounds good, even though I have some misgivings, but I’m really just glad to have everything over. As I walk out of his office, I really want to have a beer. I don’t want to get drunk, I generally don’t feel that urge anymore, but just one beer to take the edge off. The problem is that it’s 10 AM and any place I’d want to go is closed. I’m also not going to go home and drink, and I’m too impatient to sit around and wait for some place to open up. See, I’ve become very aware of when, and why, I drink. Sometime I get these urges to go against what I think is right, but I also think the universe conspires to help us, if we pay attention. I did. Instead of going and having a beer I decided to go home and meditate, to simply feel what I’m feeling. Feelings aren’t good or bad, they just are, and I want to be in touch with mine as much as possible. I think that’s one way to truly enjoy life and not hide from it.

I start driving home and get about a mile into the 40 minute drive when I have a moment of catharsis. Ok, I started sobbing uncontrollably. And it’s possible it lasted for more than a moment. My lawyer’s words repeat in my head again and again, “best deal” in particular. Best deal? Are you fucking kidding me? On the one hand, I do believe him. I heard the same thing from him, another source, and a mediator. And it tells me how fucked up Illinois is for father’s rights. Best deal? What the fuck? Fuck you! Right now, I have my son every other weekend and then from 6-8 PM one night a week. My lawyer and the mediator both assure me that’s how Illinois does it. But “best deal.” Fuck. 

I do the math. I don’t know why, but I do. If I have my son every other weekend that means I see him for 26 of the 52 weeks, or for a total of 52 days a year. Out of 365. Best deal. Fuck you. Oh wait, I forgot about the mid-week times I have him. Add two hours times 52 weeks, the that’s 104 additional hours, or another 4.33 days…

I fucking hate this state, I hate it’s law makers, I hate that I’m here, I hate the fucking winter cold. I hate that I’ve spent 8 months here, sent out hundreds of resumes, and only had one interview. Now, I want to go get drunk. I want to go fuck my brains out, I want to beat the shit out of someone. Something, anything, not to have to feel this fucking crap. I fucking hate everyone and I fucking hate everything. And right now I especially, especially, hate the fact that somewhere, deep inside me, there is a small, rational part that sees the lesson in all of this. I don’t want to be rational. I want to rage. I want to fuck shit up.

But my drive home isn’t over yet. That small part of me gets louder. The fact that music is playing on the radio starts to register. A Touch of Grey by the Grateful Dead comes on. Music has often soothed my soul, and it does so now. I know that life isn’t bad or good. How much time I have with my son isn’t bad or good. I can be a good father to him with what little time I have. It’s the quality moments that really matter. And right now I see him more than when I lived in California and he was in Illinois. I need to keep things in perspective, because, really, there are a couple ways this can go.

I can keep this anger and resentment, I can hold it tight. In the end, though, who really gets hurt? I’ve heard it said that holding resentment is like taking poison yourself, hoping someone else dies. So, in this scenario, the only people I’m hurting is myself, and then my son. That’s not ok with me. Another option is to accept that this is how it is, for now. It won’t always be like this. My son will grow up, situations will change. He’ll be able to make his own choices. And from what I hear, it will happen fast. Crap, it feels like he was born just the other day. Right now my job is to be the best father to him I can be, to keep myself sane and healthy, to keep him safe, and to be there for him when he needs me. And he will need me.

The song ends. My tears have, mostly, stopped. I don’t like the situation, but I can accept it…and look for ways that I can change it in the future. The key is acceptance. By accepting it, I don’t rage against it. I don’t hold on to it and get depressed, or want to drink or engage in any other myriad of distractions that humans can use to “help” us get through. To me, it’s just one more step to being fully present. And that’s how I choose to live my life.