Doing the hard things

In my last post, I quoted Soulful Simplicity about doing the things you don't want to do, so you can do the things you want to do later on. As a coach and follower of coaches, self-help authors, and wellness types, I'm seeing a lot right now about how we have to do the hard things.

I wish I'd had that mindset when I was younger. 

Don't get me wrong. Life was hard, so in that sense, I did hard things. Throughout my teens and early adulthood, life was very hard. A high school friend has long said we went to "handle it school" because if we learned nothing else, we learned to handle almost anything -- any crisis or problem -- growing up in our neighborhood. But those aren't the type of hard things, nor the mindset, I'm referring to. Many hard-learned lessons later, I realize that while I didn't grow up in ideal circumstances, I also made my life much harder by getting in my own way. 

How do you know if you're in your own way?  

When you feel like nothing's working, or if where you're headed isn't where you want to go, you might be getting in your own way. If you find yourself always struggling, or consistently unhappy.

How did we get here? We may not know any better, especially when we're young. We're products of our environment and our experience, and even our DNA, and if you're like me and didn't have many good role models, it takes a while to figure it out.

So much of what we experience is mindset--a concept that can be challenging to understand. Because at my core I believed life was hard, I (unknowingly) looked for evidence in every circumstance to support my belief. And because I believed life was hard, I looked for and drew to me circumstances that made life harder than it had to be. I'm not saying that many of the bad and sad things that happened during my early years were my fault -- by no means was I responsible for predatory men, belittling teachers, absent adults, and bullies and friends more fucked up than me. But because of my beliefs, which included what I felt I deserved, I put myself in a lot of situations that could only result in harm or hardship. 

Even though I intellectually understood some of this in my twenties, having learned a bit about 'new thought' philosophies, creative visualization, quantum physics and energy, etc., those early beliefs by then were buried deep in my bones and drove much of my experience, running below the surface of everything I did. Not until yet another devastating circumstance presented itself did I finally break free. 

A wise therapist helped me shift my thinking. Among other things, she asked if I believed life was hard, and when I said yes, she asked, "what if life just is?" What if the universe, or whatever you believe in, is neutral, and your circumstances are a reflection of what you believe? 

I'd have done a whole lot of things differently. 

I used to think I wanted life to be easy. Growing up, I thought life was supposed to be easy and was always astonished when it wasn't. Because I was so afraid of failing, of looking stupid, because everything seemed hard, I regularly chose the path of least resistance, or what felt like the easiest way. Except it wasn't ever easy, and in fact, that mindset made everything much harder. I was an intentional underachiever because so much felt too hard and I was scared.

But looking back at my accomplishments, the greatest satisfaction came as a result of hard work - - from effort made, energy expended, challenges accepted... sometimes involving strife or heartache or walking through fear, and almost always learning something new or different.

Although not aware while doing these things, I did a lot of hard-for-me things over time, without really thinking about how hard they'd be.

Some of my hard things? Honestly, I don't think I expected to live a long life, so I didn't take particularly good care of myself when I was young. I smoked and abused myself during my teen years, but decisively stopped all that when I realized I was going to be around a while and wanted a better life. I watched my mom and other family members succumb to illness, and deliberately made choices like eating better and exercising that support a healthier life. I determinedly put myself through college when it seemed nearly impossible. I wanted a career that included writing, so I carefully and mindfully carved out a path. I wanted a different result when a relationship nearly ended so I went to therapy and uncovered those deeply held beliefs -- and made a conscious effort to change them.

In hindsight, these were the hard things I had to do for a better life later, although at the time, I wasn't aware of that mindset.   

We can do the hard things. Sometimes it's just saying no to a second helping (noticing my own patterns), or starting an exercise program by moving your body 10 minutes every morning, or unlearning an unhealthy behavior. Sometimes it's calling an estranged relative or friend, setting aside a need to "be right" and instead choosing the relationship, or setting boundaries with someone who crosses them. Sometimes it's much harder, like forgiving yourself or someone who harmed you, or being compassionate with yourself, or finding gratitude for just one thing each day. 

Do the small things every day,
and they'll lead to big things. 

If you want something, be intentional. If it feels hard, start small. And know that if it feels hard, it's probably worth it. Get clear about your priorities, then map out a plan. Create daily routines or rituals and then methodically take the steps -- every day -- that lead you there.  

Sometimes I still hope for luck. But experience tells me that luck comes to those who do the work. My mom, not a religious woman by any stretch, always said that "god helps those who help themselves."  

I don't know about you, but if I'm going to grow old, and I hope to, I want to be healthy, and able-bodied, with the means to afford a decent life. While I know there are many circumstances over which I have no control, I can make choices that, should I get to grow old, increase my odds of enjoying those later years more than I enjoyed my younger years. Most days, I can do the hard things. 

I don't think we all need luxury homes and and exotic cars -- although if that's your jam, then by all means, work to create it. That said, I believe I deserve a life with "better problems", as author Mark Manson refers to them in The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. I think we all do.

So if you're in your own way like I was, take steps every day to create the life you want, even if it feels hard. Work toward having better problems. I no longer believe life is hard, even though some things feel hard.

Remember that saying, "Life's what you make it"? For the vast majority of us who are of sound mind, that's pretty much it.  

Life just is. 

Full stop. Total reset.

Spring snow

Ever get to a point where you just need to stop and re-evaluate? Start fresh?

Yeah. Me, too. 

Spring officially arrived this week (though it doesn't really feel like it), and it seems like a great time for an overhaul. And, while some advise against changing more than one thing at once, I don't want to wait.

Nothing's wrong, but I want more. Not more "stuff" or more on my to do list, but more energy, more freedom, and more joy. I'm ready to shed those bad habits that keep me from what I say I want.

Those bad habits have consequences, like sluggishness, fatigue, digestion challenges, and weigh gain. My finances are looking up, thanks to a new job, but more debt than I'm comfortable with is a consequence of two years of less-than-optimal income, coupled with some lousy spending habits I cultivated growing up.

So in case my efforts help you, too, here's what I'm doing if you want to shake a few things up, too.

Less is more 

1. Credit card debt is my least favorite thing. Mom always said it's there when you need it, and I agree. I'm grateful I've had it when times were hard. And, the credit hangover is real. So I'm noticing my spending habits and reading about others who gained control over theirs. Here's my plan:

  
• Track spending. It's a terrible name, but the Numreceipt app does what I want it to do. Others like Mint are more complex. I don't need a budget tool; I just need to know where, when, and why I spend money (ahem... not always aligned with my values). This app lets me add random notes, such as whether it was retail therapy, 'entertainment', or an actual needed purchase, like groceries. I started tracking mid-February and I'm already spending more mindfully because I know I'll enter every cent I spend. (This is awareness building, not punitive, so I can't game my own system by not including it.)  
• Spend less. Canadian author Cait Flanders found herself in debt, too, and started a self-imposed year-long shopping ban. She documented her process in a blog, which led to her book, The Year of Less, which I bought and read in January. On March 1, I imposed my own shopping ban with only minor exceptions (groceries, replacing used-up personal products, and gifts; 'experiences' aren't shopping, noting it's easy for me to excuse vintage shopping as an experience or entertainment, when it's really just shopping and therefore not OK). This is also about spending time more wisely. Studies focused on end-of-life show we remember what, how, and with whom we spent time, not how much we had. My goal is really no mindless shopping, no 'rewards' for simple tasks, no emotional plugs. 
• Declutter. During her year of less, Cait also decluttered. Not in the style of Marie Kondo's Tidying Up, nor even A Year to Clear, an online DailyOm program I loosely did in 2016. I've attempted decluttering before, but in my heart I'm not a minimalist, even though I'm now ready for less. I also live in a small house with minimal storage space, which makes everything seem more cluttered. A key question she poses when evaluating what to keep: Did I buy this for me, the person I want to be, or who other people want me to be? This month, I filled about 20 grocery-sized bags of clothing and household items to re-home.
• Simplify. Courtney Carver's MS diagnosis was her wake-up call to start living differently. I hope most of us don't wait for a health crisis to change. Let's learn from her and others about how to simplify and pay attention to those things that matter most. In her book Soulful Simplicity, Courtney notes we're so busy being busy, and how that feeds our go-go-go more-more-more culture. She gives tips to set priorities and to ask ourselves better questions. And how to say no so we can say yes. Reading how she was eventually able to let go of sentimental items gives me faith I can do the same.   



Just some of the bags of stuff
to be re-homed.

In my younger years, I found the simplicity movement of the 60s or 70s intriguing, and still have my copies of Voluntary Simplicity and Your Money or Your Life. But we do things when we're ready, no matter how much we know. Clearly, I wasn't ready for a simple life (and, clearly, also not ready to give up those books).

Others offered expertise in the years that followed, and more come online every day. (I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the work of my friend John (Take Back Your Time.) One of the most intriguing right now is The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning. Since both sides of my ancestral bloodline are Swedish, I can't pass this one up. But I'm not buying it yet. My intention for 2018 is "experiences over stuff" so instead, I have a list of what I want to buy. If I still want it 30 days later, I can buy it. This isn't so much about not buying; it's really about mindful spending of money and time.  

More is less

2. That sluggishness I mentioned? The weight gain? That wouldn't have anything to do with the (approx) cup of half-and-half in my coffee and tea every day, would it? Hmmm...

I'm not one for diets, be they trend, fad or otherwise. But I do believe the occasional reset with an elimination 'diet' can help. After trying to plan the process myself (how I've done this previously), I opted for Whole30, which is a 30-day reset. It does two things: 1) it removes the most likely culprits that offend our digestion or cause food addiction, which for many of us are grains, dairy, and all-things-sugar, and 2) it brings a new level of awareness to what, when, and how we eat. Today is Day 3, and so far, so good. I've relied on cream, cheese and yogurt for much of my daily sustenance, and for 30 days, I'm replacing these with greens, proteins, (non-dairy) fats, and a little fruit. Getting enough food can be a problem for many when starting down this path. Imagine that.

Say goodbye to old habits... 

Timing is everything, isn't it?

I'm now four months into a new job; I still have a learning curve but I know enough to get work done and I feel less like a deer in headlights. I have mental capacity to take on a personal challenge or two.

Over the last couple of years, while searching for the right work fit, I also did a lot of deep, self-reflective work, and added, rebuilt, or re-prioritized parts of my life that were important to me. I did some decluttering, knowing that less cluttered physical space can help with less cluttered mental and emotional space (something else The Year to Clear does), but didn't get very far, and still continued to shop more than I needed to.

And... 

"You have to do things you don't want to do so you can do things you want to do." - Soulful Simplicity

We know this. Exercise, anyone? Live a sedentary life and the odds for ill-health later only go up, right?

I wanted to change some habits, but I wasn't ready. Giving up long-held habits, like beliefs (in essence, mental habits), may trigger our reptilian brains to put up a fight, even when we want the change, or at least, the benefits of the change. Knowing what we want to be different, and knowing what we actually do by habit, comes first. We can't change what we think or do until we know we're doing it, and why we're doing it. That's why tracking something to notice the patterns and gaps can help.

For example, following a simple eating plan helps me see if I'm eating because I'm really hungry, or if I'm eating because something tastes good, or just because it's there (I do more of this than I thought I did). When habit, or in some cases muscle memory, kicks in with an unwanted behavior, I can "stop, notice, and redirect."


...Say hello to better living

Easing in with small steps can help build the mental and physical fortitude to make the bigger changes you want actually stick, like tracking (spending tracker), limiting options (Whole30), or replacing bad habits with good (ex.: when I quit smoking oh-so-long ago, I chose carrots as my tool -- I peeled, julienned, and twisted them in my fingers).

Here are a few practices that I also find helpful:

• Meditation. I use the Insight Timer app (free) almost daily for guided or timed meditation, and have for over a year. It has multiple benefits. 
• Practicing gratitude: I've mentioned in previous posts that a daily email to a gratitude partner helps me see all the good in my life, even on the roughest days. Before the gratitude partner, I used my journal for this.
• Morning pages: While not currently doing this, morning pages from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way--three pages of stream of consciousness writing first thing in the morning--have helped immensely when I've struggled to resolve an issue. 
• Journal writing: A saving grace over the years; I wrote my first "dear diary" in fifth grade, and have continued off and on ever since.

What was that about exercise? 

Right... exercise is one of the best habits of all. Sadly, I don't currently have that habit, and am consistently inconsistent. My sporadic exercise has a little to do with time but more with energy; one of my desired outcomes of my 30-day elimination process is more energy. And, these feed each other: exercise can replace shopping--a walk through the 'hood or a park is preferred over a TJ Maxx treasure hunt, or adds quality time, like a walk with a friend.

One thing I'm grateful for is yet another opportunity to pay attention and be more intentional about how I live my daily life. Another truism we all know: The days are long but the years are short. Doing what's most important -- to you, not someone else -- is what's actually most important, for you, for me, and for the rest of us.

Have any tips for creating and sticking to a new habit? Or new habits you're so glad you have? I'd love to hear. 

Fine tuning, not improving

The self-help and self-improvement industries rake in money hand over fist, but lately the conversation about "improving" ourselves seems to be shifting. Good. Let's stop. Helping ourselves? Sure. Improving? Not so much.

As a coach, I see my clients as whole, complete, creative, and resourceful, and in 'new thought' spiritual teachings, we're all perfect as we are. What we consider "imperfections" are those unique character traits that make us different and special.


So--what if we just need fine tuning? 


Honestly, there's nothing wrong with us. Not really. We're human, and we're all different.

That doesn't mean we can't improve or develop skills, become better versions of ourselves, that we don't have more to learn, or explore whatever we're intrigued by. But that's not us.

We may see others as having something wrong with them, because they think differently, do differently, or believe differently than we do. But that doesn't mean it's true. And it doesn't mean they need improving, no matter how much we disagree with them.

Improving implies the need to fix, 

and fixing implies that something's broken. 

Bones break (those can be fixed...). Parts of us break down. Sometimes we say "I'm broken" to emphasize a point. Our hearts break, our spirit breaks. But most of us aren't actually broken. Being in pain isn't broken; it's a very real and important part of living. There's always possibility for something to be different, even when it feels impossible and we can't see it. We may have a belief to let go of or an old story still dictating our behaviors, but to shift these, we reprogram, unlearn, or create, not fix.

Maybe it's years of being advertised to that's turned me off to the word improved, with the endless introduction of new and improved versions of almost anything on our large and small screens, on supermarket shelves, and in our online shopping carts. Or maybe it's the underlying message that if you're working to improve yourself, you're not good enough as you are.

We don't need to be fixed. 

And telling ourselves that we do, reinforced by the words self-improvement, isn't very helpful, whether it comes from inside our heads as self-talk or from somewhere else.

We may have a few cracks, perhaps, like Japanese pottery. If that's the case, let's add some figurative gold filigree, and be a different, more complex version of ourselves. Let it change us in ways that embolden us and make us even more unique. Perfect as it was; perfect as it is. Who says a perceived imperfection isn't really perfect? It's all perception, right?

Who defines perfect in your world? 

As Leonard Cohen sang, the cracks are where the light shines through. We need those cracks, those things that set us apart from anyone else. Those cracks are like our emotional fingerprints, and they make us interesting.

I, for one, am sick of "improving" myself, something I spent my younger years doing because I never felt good enough; I often felt less than. We all have "stuff" we can work on. But improvement is a self-defeating concept. Embrace your idiosyncrasies, gain mastery over those things you're passionate about, and shed the old crap that holds you back. That's not "improvement" unless you want to define it that way. But I think there's a better description. The need to improve feels like we're motivated by something outside of us, like something we should do, not something we do because we want to-- something that comes from within.

I believe, over time, we become more of who we are, and who we're meant to be...

Ancient Gravenstein, continually
evolving to be more of what it's
meant to be.

...and as we age, in particular, and grow in experience, we gain a deeper confidence and wisdom, which also brings the gift of self-acceptance, with our perfect imperfection.

As we step more firmly into our own shoes (in my case, some might say many pairs.... but that's an aside), love--and like--yourself as you are. That doesn't mean you won't have things you want to change. But become that "more of" version. Evolve your language and use words that make you feel good. Continually fine tune, grow, and adapt. This is what makes life's challenges, hurdles, and joys far more fascinating and easier to maneuver. 

How much more can we give the world if we feel good about who we already are? How much more exciting is it to focus on something we want to do, explore, or learn, rather than doing something to improve ourselves?

Let's be part of that shifting conversation.

The depths of winter, and gratitude

Now over a year since I've posted here, what a year it was. Knowing that the only constant is change doesn't make a lot of change an easy experience. Not that change is easy; even desired change has it's challenges, and undesired change can be downright frightening, or at least, uncomfortable.

The Northwest is now in the depths of winter, but thankfully, the temperatures here don't compare to those back east. I count my blessings. In fact, our recent cold front came with gorgeous sunny days, so it's hard to complain. We had snow at Christmas -- a first in many years. Life stands more still when it snows, and everything grows quiet.

The first day of winter is bittersweet, with dreary winter weather a promise for the months ahead, but the days also grow longer and the nights become shorter. We won't notice this at first; the days still feel short, and when the skies are gray, it feels darker still. Sometimes, the weather is a reflection of my mood. Or my mood is a reflection? It's hard to tell which came first, but I know my moods are lighter when the skies are lighter.

Letting go of gloom, or... 

...gloomsday gratitude? :)

Today was a mixed bag of rain and gray skies, with a few sun breaks. I graciously and gratefully worked from home, in my cozy basement office, looking out at the evergreen flora. No makeup, no bra, sweats and slippers. Now that's a picture, and one I wouldn't post.

And, grateful is where it's at. When the gloom sets in, gratitude is a way out. Being in service to others is another, and the two are intertwined. Helping someone can be a reminder of all I have to be grateful for. For the many gifts I and so many in my world are fortunate to have. When doing for others isn't an option, though, I try to stop what I'm doing and remember all my good.

Nightmare, a younger version

Some days, my good is as simple as my statement above -- working from home, in comfort. I have a job. I have a home. How lucky am I? Not everyone can say that. I'm warm. I'm dry. I have more clothes than I can wear, more food than I can reasonably eat at one time. I have hot water and hot beverages.

Yes, 2017 was a year of change. We lost the last of our three cats, my precious white Nightmare, to cancer at just over 18. Lucky for him, he didn't know he was sick until the last week or so of his little life. He was a big presence, with paws that won't easily be filled. Forrest and I then escaped the emptiness with a cross-country drive, filling the void with landscapes.

Grand Canyon, cross-country drive

We saw family and friends, and explored destinations from Death Valley to New Orleans to the Gulf Coast. Forrest lost one of his oldest friends to suicide. I got a job, and then another job, meeting and working with amazing people. And I continued freelancing and coaching. We sailed to islands, hiked, and enjoyed a lot of togetherness that we no longer take for granted. I spent an entire week with 12 family members I only loosely know--but love--on a cruise ship to and from Alaska. And that's just part of it.

Hubbard Glacier, Alaska

I count my blessings. Every day, I write those things I'm grateful for and send them off to my gratitude partner to be witnessed. Sometimes I'm grateful for the lessons in the journey, those things I'm not proud of, the things that hurt, or anger, or give me pause. Sometimes, it's the little things -- I got through my day with no harm done. Every day, I give thanks I'm alive, I'm healthy, I have a partner who loves me, a home, family, people who care. I have learned a lot about myself over the last couple years, with un- and under-employment, and ongoing challenges. Strife is a good teacher. Even my birthday, which every year I have higher hopes for, is my opportunity to dive deep into the depths, and understand myself better. New insights, new awareness, more self-compassion.

Yes, gratitude. I'm so grateful to be here. So grateful to be able to write here. So grateful for the journey, even in the depths of winter.