October 2020 – Let us begin

On gritting my teeth.

It’s been about ten days since I returned from my beach getaway, where time was abundant and words flowed and anxieties were nonexistent, or at least, shoved to the far recesses of my consciousness and easily ignored.

The time was such a gift, a space to breathe, to not be wrestling and wondering what the future looks like and how to prepare for it and what others need or expect or demand. I came back with a renewed sense of self, of purpose, and a desire to do a better job of organizing my life and my days in a way that didn’t leave me so depleted and gasping at the end of the day or week or year.

And I came up with a few things, that I’ll share in a minute, and I even did a really good job of keeping them in practice for about a whole week. Go me. And then, as these things do, the anxieties and the stressors I managed to hold at bay crept in and took hold and I found myself gasping and feeling paralyzed and so when my 4pm meeting got cancelled I quickly put Jay in the car and we went to our cathedral.

Nature soothes and refreshes my soul like nothing else, and when in combination with burning lungs and legs and scrambling over rocks and trees and whatever else stands in my way, I feel something loosen inside of me and I can breathe deeply again. And when Jay is happy, I am happy. And he was very, very happy.

And I remembered the things that I decided I needed on vacation, and hopefully by writing them down I’m remember them again before I’m in that desperate place.

The thing with this season is we keep thinking it’ll be over soon. At least, I do. And though I logically know it won’t, my behavior and approach is the behavior of someone who is navigating a short-term crisis, not a long-term change of lifestyle. When the pandemic first started shutting down airports and our volunteers got evacuated, we all assumed it would be a few weeks, maybe a few months. I was sure I’d still be able to see my family in August and this covid thing would be a blip but now it’s almost November and we’re looking down a long and uncertain 2021.

And what this unexpected thing did was forced us all to grit our teeth and press through it with brute strength and determination. If we just get through this week or month things will begin to return to normal and we can exhale and continue on with our lives. But the problem is, after nine months of gritting our teeth, our teeth are almost gone. And this thing is not over.

So I’m here to say that gritting my teeth and just grinding through until life returns to normal is not a good strategy for life. It’s not healthy, it’s not sustainable, and it’s not the best version of me that I want to be in the world. We all have such a limited time on this planet, I don’t want to look back and regret the year or eighteen months or longer that were spent navigating between paralysis and determined furor of surviving the upside down world.

So, it’s kind of random, but here’s the really important things I need to remember/do/say/think/be in this season.

Be okay with the fact that there are people that don’t like me, my management style, my approach to anything/everything, and are generally unhappy regardless of my action, inaction, or whatever in between. This has caused me so much stress and anxiety in this virtual world, and the reality is I’m not here to be liked, I’m here to do the best job I know how to do and be my most authentic self in the process. When I was expressing some of the angst I’ve been feeling in this area to a friend she said, if, in leadership, everyone’s always happy with how you’re doing things you’re probably doing something wrong.
Exercise is critical. I know this in my head, and I’ve experienced it over and over; I feel a million times better when I’m exercising regularly and eating well, and yet, somehow, I find myself gravitating to the couch with a packet of Oreos. The best exercise is the one I’ll do, so I need to just schedule in spin classes, hikes, walks with Jay, and other physical activities that I enjoy and won’t flake out on.
Evenings. After a long day of zoom meetings and staring at a computer screen I seem to find myself vegging out and losing hours mindlessly scrolling through social media while dishes and laundry and other things pile up and it’s so unhelpful. Here’s some better things that make me happy and leave me feeling fulfilled that I should be doing in my evenings:
1. Reading
2. Writing
3. Exercise or body movement, especially outdoors
4. Engaging in meaningful connection with other humans, whether virtual or safely in-person
5. Cooking delicious food and enjoying it (and cleaning up the kitchen/dishes afterward like a real adulting human
6. Maybe watching something I enjoy, but, like, one episode. None of this binge watching that sucks hours and hours and you don’t even remember what happens.
7. Yeah, that’s about it. If it’s not one of these things, I shouldn’t be doing it in my spare time.

What other bits of wisdom have helped you to not just survive but thrive in this season?

On Surfing.

I surfed a couple times when I was young but wasn’t ever any good… but for some reason I kept wanting to try again, and again, and again. Somehow, for reasons surpassing understanding, I really love it, even though, as I will endeavor to explain, it’s an absolutely ridiculous thing for me to be doing.

The first reason surfing is a ridiculous thing for me to be doing: I am terrible at it. I mean, really terrible. I am the opposite of a natural, it took me weeks to get beyond the most beginner of waves and I still struggle to stand up on the board even though I’ve had dozens of lessons in many locations and countries. I struggle to get my balance, to pop up fast enough, to read the waves, to trust my body.

But for me, with surfing…. there’s something about intentionally doing something I’m not naturally good at. As kids but even more so as adults we tend to shy away from things we’re terrible at, whether it be because we don’t want to look bad in front of others or we don’t like the feeling of disappointment when we fail, but in general, the activities we are drawn towards spending our time doing are activities where we have a reasonable assumption of skill, or at least we are confident we can hold our own.

And there’s something just raw and honest about going out and doing this thing, with others (I’m always surfing with others who will know if I get into trouble or get eaten by a shark) that I know I’m going to quite possibly be absolutely terrible at, because I like it. Yes, I get frustrated when I have a bad series and can’t seem to get my feet under me or feel I should be doing better than I am. But to get out there and continue to literally fall on my face, get up, and try again, over and over and over and over… it’s good for my ego, and reminds me that even though I’m terrible at something doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it anyway.

The second reason surfing is a ridiculous thing for me to be doing: I am afraid. Every time I face the waves I get that pit of fear deep in my stomach and I have to convince myself once again I am not going to drown.

Now, I know I’m a strong swimmer and I grew up on lakes and in and around water. And I don’t generally surf in particularly dangerous locations. But I am afraid of getting injured (my nearly-40-year-old-body reminds me of the fact that no matter how much I try to imagine I’m still 22 I am not). I know two people in entirely separate incidents who were paralyzed by a freak wave accident and I know many more who have emerged bloody or broken or bruised. I’ve been tossed around in deep water until I couldn’t tell which way was up and I have felt the power of the water crashing over me. I’m afraid of being thrown into rocks or reef, of not being able to find the surface, of the board hitting me in the face, or any one of dozens of other possibilities.

But there’s something about acknowledging the fear and doing it anyways. Not in a reckless way, but in an intentional choice of reducing risk and to not let fear get the best of me. Someone said something once that has always stuck with me; fear is welcome in the room, but not welcome at the decision table. Fear can speak into the conversation, and can be an element in wisdom, but does not get to say yes or no. I think a little bit of fear is a good thing; and as I have to remind myself quite often, fear is not the boss of me, love is the boss of me.

So for some reason I keep doing this thing that I am simultaneously afraid of and terrible at; and some days, like Wednesday, I think to myself maybe I should stop trying to be a surfer. The waves were a bit crazy and I couldn’t seem to get my feet under me and I got frustrated with myself for being unable to do something that seems so easy. But then I have days like Friday, where the water is just right and my body remembers what it’s doing and I catch some really beautiful waves while the dolphins are jumping just beyond, and it’s such a rush that I forget about all the hard days and only look forward to the next good one. There was one day a few weeks ago when I was on the dolphin coast that was amazing, I caught everything and my feet were under me and I was flying the whole day and even after a terrible day the next day, where the conditions were tough and I was thrown into the rocks and left the water less than halfway through the pre-determined session, I didn’t care. Because I was still buzzing from the day before, and even now I think of that day and I get a feeling of accomplishment, and can’t wait to feel that way again.

And there’s something absolutely meditative about surfing; I can’t think of anything else when I’m out there. It’s one of the few times I’m not multitasking or feeling stressed or anxious about this work problem or that relationship or whatever else is running my brain. I am solely focused, body, mind, and heart, feeling my body and mind get stronger with every effort, every fall, every scare, every beautiful wave.

So here I am, emerging from the water with numb toes and ears full of salt water I’m thinking about the next time. I’m strategically planning my strength training sessions to help make the next time easier, stronger, faster, better. And, after a particularly rough day, I remind myself that I have nothing to prove; I am not out there to impress anyone or to be a great surfer. A good day might include a lot of really good waves, and it might also include a lot of really bad falls, because I still showed up and gave it my all.

On feeling stuck.

One of my favorite podcasts is This American Life, and on July 17^th they aired a show called How to be Alone. And I can’t get it out of my head. They talk about isolated lives, lives of astronauts and normal humans on earth, and the thing I can’t stop thinking about is this statement from a single woman named Danielle Evans.

It is possible to feel stuck with your choices, even without wishing you’d made any differently.

There’s such an insane bent towards comparison in our humanity, and an underlying assumption that everyone else has it better, even as we’re navigating a global pandemic and recession and life-altering, world-transforming events. It seems all I hear and see across the socials is moms needing their kids out of the house or married folks sick of their spouses, or single people desperate for any kind of human connection, all extremely valid feelings, and then in the comments someone else desperate for the opposite, accusing others of not being grateful enough and pointing out things that are obvious and desperately unhelpful like, it was your choice to have kids/be single/get married, and now you’re complaining about it? There are definitely good things that have come from this year, but overall it’s been more bad news than good, and we truly must stop with comparing shipwrecks; in the end, every shipwreck ends badly.

It is possible to feel stuck with your choices, even without wishing you’d made any differently.

I love the permission that this phrase grants to my anxious and lonely heart; that it’s okay for me to feel lonely and hurt even though I’ve set up my life the way that I have. I could have made different life choices that would have left me feeling something other than isolation during lockdown…. But that doesn’t mean it would have been any better.

This morning as I sip my coffee and think about going back to my real non-vacation life in a few days, I started out by listing the things that make life enjoyable; simple things like hanging out with friends, exploring new places, reading a good book while floating in the pool, etc. And instead of wishing I had someone else’s life, I’m committed to finding and living and loving every morsel of joy I can as my own journey continues to unfold.

After the storm

So yesterday it was so windy the howling woke me out of a dead sleep and it didn’t relent the entire day. I spent most of the day being extra lazy, moving from my bed only long enough to feed and relieve myself, until mid-afternoon when I finally extricated myself from the bedroom and wandered down to the beach.

My strenuous efforts were rewarded with huge chunks of coral, sponge, beautiful big shells, and other beachy-storm-detritus-treasure that only reveals itself after it’s been a rough day/night. I’ve been pondering that today, that beauty that is only revealed after a storm, but I’m sure millions and billions of people have already written on the topic and in fact, I just don’t want to.

So here’s a peek into the treasures revealed after the storm. I’m sure if any of my crafty-oriented friends and family were here they’d have plenty of ideas, but I left all that was there to be eaten up once again by the sea.

Parker is the house dog that has kept me really good company this week. He took a liking to this particular coral!

With a limp.

It’s Monday, the third day of my vacation, and I’m trying like hell not to panic that it feels like it’s moving too fast. I’ve read entire novels, watched the waves for hours, surfed, slept, made some new friends, and in general just enjoyed every moment. The fact that I have nearly a week left to enjoy feels extravagant and at the same time desperately needed.

On Saturday I smashed a toe while surfing; nothing catastrophic, but I’m walking with a slight limp. And like a memory long forgotten, or a dream that leaves behind only snips and snatches after waking, as I strolled the beach with coffee in hand, I thought of another guy who walked with a limp.

The story says Jacob wrestled with God all night, and in order to win, in a baffling move, the creator of the universe had to wrench his hip, while also giving him what he wanted – a blessing. Jacob walked with a limp the rest of his life.

Maybe it’s a reminder of our humanity. The frailty of our human forms that can be damaged in the wrestling or the waves, the rest of the body forced to adjust for that bit that is injured. It’s a reminder that we are really, really nothing, and a slightly bigger wave could just as easily take me out completely. A microscopic virus an shut down the entire world and kill hundreds of thousands. A freak storm or fire can destroy everything we’ve worked our entire lives to build. God, if you believe in a deity, can wrench your hip with a finger or turn you to salt for a glance and the reality is we have so little control over our lives it’s almost laughable. Especially for someone like me, who plans and analyzes and prepares for every possible eventuality I can think of, and then I show up to the training site and there’s no power or water, or my instructor was mugged last night and unable to make it, or I show up to the airport and they’re all grounded because of fog or an act of terror or a global pandemic. Sure didn’t see that coming. And we get to be more flexible and resilient that we ever thought we’d need to be.

I’m engaged in my own wrestling match at the moment, and I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. I wouldn’t say I’m wrestling with God, per se, because if God is real and loving then God would welcome my questions and struggles and doubts; and if not, then I don’t want anything to do with that kind of deity anyway. I would call it a reckoning of belief vs practice; of belonging, or desiring not to belong in what I once called ‘home’, where my eyes now see the loving, welcoming community I once identified as my own to be exclusive, unwelcoming to some, even hateful to others. Even just writing that I feel a piercing in my heart, a regret, a repentance, a longing for the good from that community without losing myself and my love for all humans, for this earth, for world peace and friendship.

But in the end, we’re all just making our way the best we can through this maze of life where we really have very little control of anything. My limp reminds me to respect the power of the waves, the vastness of the sea, the power of the microscopic universe, the longing to make the most of the little I am and have and offer wherever my journey ends up.

The results are in…

After six months and two samples and a lot of time in transit, I finally got the genetic analysis of my Jay!

Just as a refresher: the shelter I got him from had posted his photo three different times before he chose me; on one they suggested he was a shepherd mix, another a lab mix, and another an Africanis. When I got him, the woman said she guessed he was a shepherd basset cross, which would explain his shepherd coloring and short legs. The vet seconded this guess, so it’s what I’ve been going with. Until now.

Drumroll please….

Yep, he’s a real mutt. The ‘supermutt’ category said he’s probably got a dozen more slivers of various breeds, but very likely some collie, Doberman pinscher, bulldog, and bull terrier.

I was surprised to see so many breeds, and no basset! The terrier accounts for his short legs, but I never would have guessed boerboel, they are huge! One woman who I met suggested Ridgeback when she saw his forehead crinkle up, I guess that’s a ridgeback trait. And I wondered Rottweiler because of his eyebrows.

They can call him my supermutt… I will just call him super.

p.s. I got his DNA kit through Amazon, by a company called Embark. They kept me updated all along the journey, with notifications when they received the samples, how long it would be, etc. I also got a report on various health and genetic conditions I should share with my vet, possible relatives (he has some American cousins!) along with the in-depth breed profile. I’d def recommend their service to anyone!

On letting go.

I am on my first real vacation since January, time and space without responsibilities or stresses or decisions of any kind. A space unreachable for anything work related, a space for writing, and reading, and surfing, and relaxing only; naturally, I came to the sea.

As I usually am, I was awake this morning just after sunrise, long before the rest of the house began to stir, and like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to the waves.

And this morning’s thought that passed in the wind like a whisper to my soul was Pondering things is okay. Obsessing about them is not.

Word.

It’s a fine line, that one. And because I tend to analyze things to death and aim for perfection, especially my work, I can spend an inordinate amount of time hashing and rehashing, analyzing, criticizing, rewording or pre-scripting every past and potential future interaction until I can’t even remember where I started from. And it definitely crosses the line into obsession.

Because having time and space to consider something without interruption is a wonderful gift. But to use this time to feed the anxiety monster bubbling up in my stomach and obsess about things long over or far in a future I cannot anticipate is actually not good or helpful.

So, on this beautiful day, in this beautiful space, I will give myself permission to ponder and not obsess, trust and not fear, relax into being okay with the unknown and not being prepared for every potential encounter and embrace the gift that is being fully present in the here and now.

On pessimism.

I was walking Jay just now, on our regular evening walk around the neighborhood, and as usual I was lost in thought. Reviewing conversations from today, my reactions to various things, thinking about my upcoming getaway for a few days. In general, I consider myself an optimist, so was surprised at myself when I realized everything I was thinking was so terribly pessimistic.

My much-needed getaway is going to go by much too quickly, it won’t be enough before I have to get back to the grind… and catching back up afterwards is going to be hell.

I thought she was my friend, but I guess not.

My new boss is going to be a nightmare.

I’m never going to convince that person that I’m not the enemy.

This virus is never going to get better, and I’m sure will destroy any plans I hope to make for the holidays.

My dog is going to die someday and that is going to be devastating.

I’m going to be alone forever.

I’m failing at everything I’m working on right now.

I’m never going to be as strong as I wish I was.

And on and on and on.

Like I said, I generally feel pretty optimistic and hopeful about life in general, about the future, about how I’m doing and where I’m going, so once I recognized and realized this downward spiral of despair I found myself in, I wondered: What is this?

What we think and what we feel are not always what is true.

So what is true?

It is true that I am professionally tired. I have been pushing and pulling and convincing and corralling and editing and creating and cheerleading for many months without reprieve, and I need to detach from that for a bit. Will the time away I have planned be enough? I have to trust it will be. Every single time I’ve ever prayed for ten hours of sleep to somehow fit in the four I have available I’ve never been left disappointed. So my prayer for this week is please give me a month of rest in a few days’ time… and trust it will be done.

It’s true that this is a lonely season; meeting new people and interacting with new friends is challenging when navigating a global pandemic, but it will not be forever. It won’t. And in the meantime, I can reach out to friends I haven’t talked to in months or years and reconnect thanks to the wonders of the interwebs and video calls that still leave me in awe at how star-trek-esque they are.

Being real and true to who I am, even if it’s not liked or appreciated by everyone I’ll ever interact with is still the right thing to do. I am here on earth not to be popular or admired or someone else who never upsets anyone, but rather to be someone who loves well while pursuing what I know to be right and good, no matter what the cost may be.

The virus will eventually be history, the election will eventually be over, this b-grade post-apocalyptic movie we have found ourselves living in will one day be that one thing that happened that one time, just like every life-altering event that I’ve ever experienced has. The thing I need to remind myself is to not just waste away life waiting for these things to be over, but rather identify the issues at the core of the desperation, the fear, the anxiety, the despair; because those are things that will still be around, even after whatever event we’re waiting for or dying for is over. They’ll just attach themselves to the new crisis of the day, one we can’t even imagine yet.

So tonight I need to surround myself and fill myself with these things that are true and allow them to settle deep into my despairing heart: I am doing the best I can with what I have and that is really, really good.

And I’m much stronger than I think.

A Sunday Hike

One of the things I really love about Pretoria is the abundance of hiking opportunity within a reasonable distance. There’s a few places right in the city I feel safe enough to go alone, and a few of them are even doggy friendly!

Anytime I have taken Jay, until today, we haven’t gone more than about 5k. When I’m running in my neighborhood he tends to slow down quite a bit by then and need encouragement to keep going, so when I run longer than 5k I’ll usually drop him back at the house halfway. He does have short little legs, so I don’t fault him.

But today I decided we’d try a longer hike, because he seems to enjoy hiking SO much (and so do I), and it was a cool, overcast morning. After about 8k he noticeably slowed and by 10k I was having to encourage him to keep moving. When we got home, he fell asleep and hasn’t moved much all day.

He doesn’t generally like water all that much, but today he just plopped right down in the river. He’s a very good boy.

On being a One.

Have you ever heard of the Enneagram? If not, go ahead and check out the Enneagram Institute, or Integrative Enneagram.

In short, it’s kind of like a personality typing mechanism, such as the Meyers-Briggs, or a workplace behavior analysis like DISC – except those tools are meant to look at and predict behaviors. The Enneagram looks at motivations.

You really should check it out. And just one tip – the experts say don’t just take a test and go with what the test says, because the best a test can do is measure behavior, and we are notoriously bad as humans at lying on tests to get the result we think we want or we think is right or good. So sure, take the test, but also read into the different descriptions, and listen to podcasts, and sit with it until you find what is truly you. It’s common to mistype, I did at first. More enneagram resources and podcasts are linked at the end of this post.

SO anyway, as you can tell by the title of this blog post, I’m an enneagram one. And the more I learn about it, the more I see myself, and the more I uncover about what and why I’m me.

The One is often labeled as a perfectionistic, but I prefer reformer. Idealistic, self-controlled, purposeful, principled, problem-solving, often frustrated when the rest of the world isn’t these things. Boy can I relate. Ones tend to believe there is a right way to do everything and want to make a difference with their lives. Now remember, this is a measure of motivation, not behavior, so you will definitely find ones that are perfectionistic in how they clean their house or fold their towels, while other ones are perfectionistic in how they approach problems at work or expectations they have of others.

One of the hallmarks of a One is the existence of an inner critic. It’s as if there’s an inside voice that is constantly reminding you about your inadequacies, or pointing out your weaknesses, or showing you more problems that need to be solved, or reminding you of that one mistake you made decades ago that (so she says) was about as awful as any heinous crime you can think of in the history of the world

She can be a real nuisance, plain and simple. But also? She is a rule follower, a visionary, willing to do anything it takes to do things well and good and leave the world better than it was before.

Here’s some ways being a one plays out in my day-to-day life.

In overarching terms or when I can step back and look at the big picture, I know I’m good at my job. But on a day-to-day experiential level, my default assumption is I am failing. According to my inner critic, there’s a right way to do everything and unless I know FOR SURE I’m doing it exactly right (i.e. following the instructions and guidelines and rules perfectly, when they exist), then I assume I’m probably blowing it (i.e. when the instructions/guidelines/rules aren’t clear) and am already anticipating the conversation we’ll have when they (whoever is in charge) point out that I blew it. But I didn’t know. Because if I did, and it’s completion was within my control, it would be done well. And turned in before the deadline.

Another way it’s played out recently is a couple of weeks ago I received some feedback that didn’t feel awesome and also felt completely out of left field. Something I had written could have been interpreted differently to what I intended… something really minor, that was likely forgotten almost immediately in the crazy that is this work and this world, but in the moment I was shocked and devastated, and for days afterwards, (and still today, if I’m honest) I feel absolutely horrible about it. That darn inner critic keeps reminding me of what happened, and also says things like how could you have been so stupid…. Yeah, they definitely regret hiring you. No one will ever be harder on me than I am.

So for example we’re writing and editing a lot of documents at work right now; new SOPs, guidelines, policie,s and forms, etc. I have one colleague, a friend who works in another country, who readily shares her draft documents with everyone else across the continent… which I find super helpful. But also? I’m awed at her bravery. Because I can’t do it. I can’t share when I don’t know for sure I’ve met the (often unclear) expectations of those who are expecting to receive these docs… and unless I know I’ve done it right, I’m sure I’ve done it wrong.

One of the most helpful things about learning about the enneagram was I realized that not everyone has this inner critic berating them like I do. I assumed it was universal, and then was (am?) shocked and frustrated when other people don’t seem to care as much as I do about being on time, meeting deadlines, saying yes to things that are important even though I don’t really have the bandwidth, following the rules of law or basic human goodness, etc. And what do you mean that not everyone wakes up in the middle of the night and analyzes (and feels awful all over again) about that one mistake you made decades ago? and you’re re-scripting and re-scripting and rehearsing what you’d do and say if it ever happened again? Oh, it’s just me? Yeah. It is. And many of my enneagram one friends. But knowing it’s just me, and not the expectations of everyone in the world, often I can tell that inner critic to buzz off.

But the motivation for all these things comes from such a good place – I want so badly to do well in doing good, not for my own benefit but to know that once I get to the end of my time here on earth, I’ll look back and know I’ve done everything I can to leave it better than it was when I came into it. And hear the words, well done.

I love learning about myself, about the inner workings of human behavior and motivations and logic or lack thereof. Learning about the enneagram, recognizing and understanding the motivations behind my behavior has helped me put into words and explain to others… at the same time I also have a lot more grace for people who tend to run late or don’t care about rules or whatever else that’s very different to me.

I’d love to hear from you! Do you know the enneagram? How does your number play out in your day to day life?

Some of my fave resources:

The Road Back to You (please support local/independent bookstores if possible!)

Jen Hatmaker’s For the Love podcast did a series last summer

Annie F Downs That Sounds Fun podcast did a series the last two summers in a row! (It was the 2019 series I fully recognized I was a One and not the type I had mistyped earlier)

Enneagram Institute (linked in first paragraph) – I go back here often when after conversations with others or when I’m wondering where a particular feeling or thought is coming from.

What are your favorite resources?