Making sense of challenging times

Borrowed from Instagram

Every afternoon, an alarm on my phone reminds me that 'everything is impermanent.' I set this alarm as a strategy to get through my workday at a job I haven't loved before we were asked by our governor to "stay home, stay safe". Now it seems almost prescient. 

Where we are at this moment in time is hard. And, as I heard my mom say more times than I wanted to, "this too shall pass." 

We cannot have pleasure without pain, nor joy without sadness. We can't know comfort without experiencing discomfort.  

And sometimes, we require a strong jolt to move out of complacency or apathy to embrace real, lasting, necessary change.

Transformation, ready or not

Over the last month, I have witnessed real transformation every day at work. I work for a very traditional, allopathic medical group—"western" medicine that isn't my go-to but I'm glad it's there when I need it.  

The change is nothing short of remarkable. In the two-plus years I've worked there, the organization has made numerous changes, but it needed to move faster to keep up with a rapidly evolving market. At the end of 2019, they set up an "acceleration office" to ideally usher in change more quickly. That work was just getting underway... 

And... virus. 

Practically overnight, my organization transitioned to nearly all virtual care, adopted new practices and systems, and relaxed outdated policies and adopted new ones. I, and all my coworkers, are busier than we've ever been—with most of us working remotely. And this isn't true just in my organization, but throughout the healthcare industry overall. 

Opportunity and silver linings

In any way imaginable, everything just got very real. Personally and professionally, no matter where you are in life, what's most important is up for redefining, and our priorities are shifting in countless ways, collectively and individually. 

This might just be a transcendent wake-up call, a reset, a recalibration. At least, that's one way to look at it, and how I prefer to look at it. Not one to waste a crisis, I know from experience there is always something to be learned and gained and that transformation is afoot when things fall apart. This is how we grow, deeply, personally, culturally. 

Yes, I am profoundly troubled by the strife in the world—the fear, the loss of life and livelihoods—and I'm keenly aware of the very real trauma created by this disease and the impact of the stringent measures required to quell it. 

Sadly, there will be casualties, much like war, and the most vulnerable among us will be most affected. This is heartbreaking on so many levels, because no one deserves to lose their life, or that of a loved one, when every waking moment may feel hard and life as we know it can't continue.  

But I have a deep sense that we need this. 

Our systems don't work

So much about our way of life has been unsustainable. Every one of our systems requires an overhaul to work better for people and the planet; right now, this is more evident than ever in our food, healthcare, and economic systems, as well as our environmental policies.

We now have an opportunity to do things differently and to notice how we rely on each other. We're a global economy, dependent on trade, shared knowledge, and combined resources. Darwin's reinterpreted survival theory requires that we adapt, cooperate, and collaborate, not compete. (Watch infectious disease expert Alanna Shaikh talk about global health here and what we must do now to avoid another major pandemic.)  

We are collectively learning we must also play the long game rather than opting for the short-term profits and wins we've become accustomed to. So much of our financial and political focus is based on short-term thinking, and only those who know the game and how to play it come out ahead, leaving so many behind. Here in the US, it's time to reinstate our social contract and leave the 'rugged individual' mythology behind. None of us can do it all alone.  

Resourcefulness = resilience

All that said, however... we must also plan to care for ourselves when disaster strikes, to ensure those who most need help are able to get it. 

Since the hoarding and stockpiling at the beginning of this pandemic indicate otherwise, we must individually prepare for disasters before they hit. Those of us who live in earthquake zones should have at minimum two-weeks of food, water, and god-forbid, toilet paper, among other necessities. And ideally, governments are learning that we must not rely on a just-in-time supply chain and instead keep back-up emergency supplies. Note to self for Clorox Wipes... 

If you haven't yet read The Unthinkable and The Gift of Fear, please make time for them. Both of these books give examples of why we must think about the impossible, while learning to trust our instincts. My partner, who works on container ships, watches disasters-at-sea videos; when I asked why, since I have no stomach for these, he said to imagine the impossible, because the impossible happens. 

Necessity = ingenuity and creativity 

Some of the bright spots—because there are always bright spots if we're paying attention—are the extraordinary creativity, innovation, and ingenuity, along with visible compassion, gratitude, and a real sense of connection, despite physical distance. 

People are helping others in ways we haven't seen in decades. A few examples: 

• We're making masks and donating supplies, creating affinity groups online, finding new ways to fundraise, and re-imagining helpful services. 
• Our front-line healthcare workers are heroes and she-roes, celebrated by balcony and front porch serenades. 
• Musicians are performing live online, and local yoga studios and trainers are offering online classes almost any time of day. 
• Restaurants and bars started new lines of business with take-out and delivery (and I don't mean to diminish how badly these and other services have been hit by this). 
• Church services are broadcasting via Facebook Live, AA meetings and weddings are taking place on Zoom (along with plenty of virtual happy hours), and 
• Businesses previously hesitant to offer their staff remote work made it possible overnight. 
• One of my favorite things so far is a Facebook group, View from my Window, where people from across the world post one (only one per person allowed) image from their window, as the (nearly) whole world shelters in place.  
• The memes are some of the best ever, and all the late-night shows are broadcasting from home. I highly recommend finding and following people and things you love on Instagram, like The Daily "Social Distancing" Show, Trevor Noah's re-imagined home-based show.   

And finally, great resources are springing up all over for those who are struggling. One of my favorites so far is a support guide, chock full of awesome resources, compiled by author and web TV host Marie Forleo. You can find it here. And if you just want to hear a comforting voice, author Glennon Doyle is broadcasting "family meetings" on Instagram, sharing the challenges of being home with a spouse and bored kids. 

For us, not to us

So, let's ask: Is this happening for me, or to me? When we ask ourselves this question (about this or any other thing), it shifts our experience. We get more control over our circumstances, with space to receive insights to weather our storms and see opportunity, even as we grieve our losses.   

This pandemic, and the subsequent stay home measures, is challenging us like nothing else has, and we will all be changed in ways big and small. I hope we all take time to assess what's worth keeping and what's better left behind. Right now is a great time to visualize the world you want to live in, to spend time in quiet reflection, and hold space for a better future. 

As Leonard Cohen sang, "there's a crack in everything; cracks are how the light gets in." Our cracks are showing us the changes we need to collectively thrive. 

I leave you with this quote from author and extraordinary human, Arundahti Roy: 

Historically, pandemics have forced humans to break with the past and imagine their world anew. This one is no different. It is a portal, a gateway between one world and the next. We can choose to walk through it, dragging the carcasses of our prejudice and hatred, our avarice, our data banks and dead ideas, our dead rivers and smoky skies behind us. Or we can walk through lightly, with little luggage, ready to imagine another world. And ready to fight for it. 

That I write all this from relative comfort and privilege is not lost on me. And yet I also state it with conviction. Because I have learned we can do hard things. 

While most of us may not be high-risk, we're all, perhaps unwittingly, part of a new, developing social contract, staying in and doing the right things for those we love. At the very least, I hope we hold onto this, and that on the other side, we're all a little kinder, more generous, more compassionate, and more mindful. We are all in this together.  



If you like this post or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to subscribe (see right column), share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here. 

Ready, set... reset

I took this photo when I stayed here 6 years ago, 
and my 'seagull series' remains a favorite. 
This may have even been from the 
same balcony. 

A storm came up on my Thursday drive to Cannon Beach, Oregon from Seattle, with unrelenting high wind and pelting rain until Saturday morning. I hunkered down in my hotel room—a good thing since I paid extra for that ocean-front view this time.  

I'm deeply in need of a reset: body, mind, spirit... from diet to finances to... well, right now it feels like everything. This place is magic for me: open ocean, crashing waves, lengthy beaches, monolithic sea stacks, a delightful town center, fantastic local food, and, were I to venture farther, more charming pocket towns to explore along the coast just a short drive away.  

Revisiting self-care

How I reset can take different forms, depending on my current experience: stream-of-consciousness writing, journaling, reading, walking, meditating, a change in diet, or as of this moment, staring at and listening to the ocean, sitting next to the fire. Sometimes just a change in scenery has a powerful impact.  

I came here loaded with books, a journal and notepads, my laptop, tea, a swimsuit and running shoes, my camera, and nourishing things—because I don't yet know what "reset" requires.  

I use Insight Timer nearly every morning to help me meditate, a practice I aim for but can't say I'm good at, but sets the tone for my day. Lately, I'm not very focused, so I need that "me time." 

Waking up

A friend pinged me with some urgency before I left to suggest I listen to Sam Harris, both his podcast Making Sense and his Waking Up meditation course during this reset. His timing was perfect.  

On the drive, I listened to Sam's podcast with Roland Griffiths, Ph.D., a Johns Hopkins University professor of psychiatry and neuroscience. He's doing extraordinary work with psychedelics. Researchers today are building on work that started in the 1940s but got sidelined in the '60s; sadly, recreational psychedelic use freaked out the powerful who then killed the research. Thankfully, research now shows intriguing results for those who suffer from otherwise hard-to-treat conditions, like PTSD. Michael Pollan ("eat food, mostly plants, not too much") speaks to this in How to Change Your Mind.  

I also started Sam's Waking Up course to help unwind, regroup, and regenerate. 

Year-end intention

That's my intention for the next two weeks: regroup, reset, regenerate. 

This year-end reset ritual is a regular practice, although how I do it differs each year. My birthday (Dec. 19) and winter solstice—the shortest day and longest night of the year—marks the beginning of my self-reflection—my own new year. For many cultures, this is a solstice tradition; both solstice celebrations and Christmas are grounded in pagan rituals. (Here's an inspiring travel article.)

My prompts for thinking and writing: 

• What do I want my life to look like, particularly the year ahead?
• Are there themes to focus on? 
• Beyond goals, what intentions must be set? 

My birthday dessert, 
Stephanie Inn
chocolate pot-de-creme

Solitude and time alone are requirements, away from distractions and what's familiar.  

I need to breathe, walk, meditate, read, eat well, write, and sleep.... and this weekend, stare at the ocean and listen to the surf.   

Just 'be' 

Sometimes just being is enough. We're always doing, so not doing is essential. Early in Sam's Waking Up course, he quotes Socrates: A life unexamined is not worth living. Or at least, he adds, it may be worth living, but it's not very interesting. Our purpose is to grow and evolve, and we must just be to integrate learning, let go, and recalibrate. 

#soulretreat #selfcareishealthcare #healthcareisselfcare 



If you like this post or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to subscribe (see right column), share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here. 

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.