Making Sense Of Gut Feelings

January 31, 2020January 31, 2020 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

Excuse me while I settle into this space, so much of this is still new to me. I have started writing this a handful of times now, and my finger hovers over the backspace button more than any other on the keyboard. Delete. Delete. Delete. My hang up is how I am going to make sense of what I have to say – explain it in a clear and thought out way. Thinking things out and having clarity is a bit of a challenge as of late. There is a lot to sift through. Stick with me.

I am squatting in an empty home in Astoria, Oregon. Not to worry, it is our home – we own it. I did not pick any locks or break any laws to have a roof over my head. The walls of the house are bare, aside from the scuffs left behind by the previous tenant. My voice echos throughout the house, as there is no furniture to catch my sound, and I do have a habit of talking to myself out loud. I have two foam pads with a few blankets and a corrugate box that holds staple kitchen items to make basic meals. A bright blue plastic tot stores my clothes and also acts as a side table where I place my morning coffee and have a few candles that I light to soften the emptiness of it all. It sounds a bit melancholic, and at times it is, yet it is the only space I know to be right now.

Landing here is the culmination of many things and this is where I get hung up on telling you more – not because I do not want to share this story, but because I am not sure how to make sense of it, or how to tell it simply. Be patient with me as I peel back the layers. This will take time.

For the next 30 days or so, I have chosen to live a very separate and quiet lifestyle. This choice came after six very emotionally exhausting months. Six months of losing total grasp of myself, of giving up alcohol only to return back and then trying to stop again, of watching my marriage crumble, of recognizing my brokenness and revisiting my faith, of testing my inner strength, of discovering how weary I am in my work and how passionless I feel in my 9-5 day. In the past six months I have felt more alone and yet more supported than in all my 36 years of life. It’s been a twister than has picked me up, set me down, swirled me back up, thrashed me around… and I am not sure when the ride will end. The lessons have been thick, and most of them I am still trudging through, high above the solid ground.

How I came to the choice of temporarily disassociating with everything came from a part of me I can’t yet explain. Have you ever experienced a part of you, a part you never knew existed, come to the surface and take control? Well, that is what happen to me – almost like a fight or flight moment. To survive this extremely challenging time, an inner portion of me has risen up and calmly said “enough”, and I am listening. I have finally begun practicing the action of listening to my mind, body, and heart instead of denying what they ask for. In the past, I’ve been a master of fighting the requests of my body, mind, and heart because those needs were not conducive to the ridiculous image I’ve clung onto in how others see and experience me. I have also allowed my fears to win over my wants because my insecurities have valued the societal narrative (you know, living your life the way the world portrays we should). I’ve denied myself over and over in an effort to be accepted and to impress… everyone! My family, my husband, my close friends, my co-workers, the people who follow me on my Instagram. And I have felt like I have been failing at even that…probably because deep down it is not my truths I have been living.

So here I finally am, doing away with that bullshit insulation I built to avoid the bigger asks of myself. My gut, my intuition, my inner wise-self have been diligently working together to gently nudge me in the direction of stepping away from it all and spending time alone. Is it ideal that I am away from my husband? No, and it is necessary for me to grow beyond the havoc we endured. Is it the most comforting to be in a huge empty house with very few belongings? No, and yet I am grateful to have a space that will protect me while I grow mentally and emotionally. Do I feel a little bit of sadness and a sense of depression? Yes, and that feeling is also paired with this unrelenting merciful whisper assuring me that this is exactly where I am supposed to be. I am feeling new things with each passing moment. I am processing a shit load of emotions. It does, at times feel a little chaotic. I am working through the feelings and shedding layers, only to run around frantically trying to pick those layers back up… in case I need them. Then the inner dialogue begins, coaxing me back into letting the old slough go. It is a process, to shed parts of self that I am not totally sure I am ready to give up. And again, my gut keeps guiding me… reminding me to breathe. It is all meant to be.

All of this desired self-work did not birth from thin air. As I mentioned, it began about six months ago with the onset of what I call my “almost-divorce”, and it spiraled from there into a magnitude of realizations that made my reflection in the mirror impossible to continue ignoring. I could no longer look past myself and continue neglecting the woman standing there waiting to be seen. To carry on ignoring myself and not look inward to make sense of all my layers would be setting myself up for total unhappiness. I’ve been putting on more and more emotional weight over the years and the time has come to choose: either detox the burdens or succumb to the aches and pains of the gain. I’ve chosen to lose that weight and lighten my load.

I have a lot to share. About self, about love, about friendships, about living, about what I am learning. Writing it out has been hard because I have no much I want to explore and I am not sure where to start or how to grasp it all. And so all I can do is start doing it “bird by bird” as Anne Lamott would say. In time I will get more graceful at it, in time my truths will become more and more evident. I will be able to clean out the unnecessary stuff, the stuff that is taking up valuable space. In many ways, I think spending this time in an empty home is therapeutic, as it is the perfect canvas to clear out my own internal place of rest, my home within.

My husband and I are now mending from our almost-divorce. We still have a lot of growing and healing to do, and our love has become more tenderhearted after the extreme sorrow and tense storm we’ve endured. It was without a doubt our lowest point – a time when we saw the true, authentic vulnerability of one another. While it was a heartbreaking scene to be part of, we saw the most pure parts in one another. Building off those lows to become better people and partners to one another is the next thread to weave into our story. He is supportive of this time I am taking away. He understands that it is part of the softening after a very hard time. As Trevor Hall beautifully says, “You can’t rush your healing.”

Coming to Astoria meant that I was giving up the warm arms of Mexican sunshine. Originally, my husband and I were scheduled to spend time in a home down there for the first part of the year. He has continued with the plan and my hope is that I soon will join him, where he currently waits and continues to grow and tend to his own personal wounds. I will trust my gut to take me there, just as I have trusted the deep-seeded thought to come to Astoria. The thought blossomed very slowly over the past few months. It started as a shampoo moment and evolved into a lingering idea that knocked every time my mind got quiet. The persistence of the thought, along with how perfectly events were aligning caused me to make the final leap and commit. I’ve felt scared to forgo the original Mexico plan and yet, I know I would always wonder if I did not make sense of this gut feeling. I was led me here to process and I do not know why. In time, I trust those answers will come. The inner voice asking to spend time alone was quiet, gentle, and very rich in authenticity. I could not ignore her – that woman in the mirror looking back at me, patiently waiting. She asked me to give it 30 days, at least. So here we are beginning this new chapter.

Starting Sober

November 30, 2019November 30, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

Today marks two months and seven days that I have been living an alcohol-free life. Yaasssss me! For over 10 years I had a toxic love for alcohol, specifically red wine. There was no such thing as 1-2 glasses from a bottle. The bottle was the glass. It was an unhealthy relationship that I fixated on.

The term I most relate to when identifying my past dependency on alcohol is as a “gray area drinker,” and I was a deep shade of gray. I feel squishy using the word alcoholic or addict. I was not nearing rock bottom or waking up with a drink first thing on my mind. The people closest to me were not aware at how thick and deep-rooted the drinking had become. To the outside world, I was solid. But the truth is that alcohol was the thing I used when I was sad, angry, stressed, happy, hopeful, or celebrating. I used alcohol to handle all my emotions.

This is gray area drinking, the space between the extremes of “rock bottom” and every-now-and-again drinking: a gray area that many, many people find an impossible space to occupy. – Jolene Park

Regardless of labels to describe my drinking habits – which I believe is unique and different to each individual – I eliminated alcohol from my life because it was enough of a problem that I was no longer aware of my authentic self. I was living to get through the days versus living to embrace each day. The amount of alcohol I drank and my reliance on it to escape life’s challenges or to “improve” happy times had become too dominant.

I am not sharing all the details of my story here – the start, the middle, or how it came to an end. That is for another time. My focus here is to explain why I want to bring you behind the curtain and talk about this truth of mine.

When I began to mildly consider removing alcohol from my life, all I wanted was to hear how others did the thing. I had many wonderments. How did they finally decide to stop? How did they make it day to day with the cravings? What was better about that life than the drink? When could I expect to feel good about being sober instead of missing the drink like the best friend it was to me? Would I have to part ways with all my friends who drank? I read blog after blog about the experiences others went through. I listened to podcasts for encouragement and dreamnt about the day I would be able to tell my own sober story. I watched people on YouTube share how they put down the drink and I researched all the different memoirs written on the matter. I read self-help books. I joined an online program (Tempest Sobriety School). I drank the entire time I read and listened and participated in these things, but unbeknownst to me, I was weakening the alcohol fueled relationship within myself and giving my spirit room to re-emerge. Hearing and absorbing from others was slowly painting the mantra for me that “I can do this, I am not alone.”

Because other sober folks were out there talking about their experiences and sharing their lessons, it provided me a platform to step on and learn from. I was building a tool kit in preparation for my own sober journey. It took nine months of spending time with others stories before I got there, and it was exactly what I needed. There was a relatability that I found in these stories and they help me see that it was not going to be as impossible as it felt in my mind. Hard, sure. Not impossible.

The more that we talk openly about our challenges, our hopes, our lessons in sobriety, the more we can help others who are curious and seeking to shed alcohol from their own life. Breaking the dependency on alcohol both physically, mentally, and emotionally is real and harsh. For all those who have done the work, sharing the experience and the “how” can provide a relatable starting place for the curious to begin. Sharing our stories establishes connection and provides a foundation for others to hop onto and feel rapport around something so awfully challenging. The path to living an alcohol free life is different for each of us, but we all start from the same spot – we choose not to take the next drink. And the next. And the next.

So I have stories. And lessons – oh the lessons. In just over two months of no drinking, my outlook on life has exploded into a whole new way of thinking. It is both discomforting and exciting as I shift and mold with these new outlooks. The work is happening and I am sitting through both the good and the bad of it. And this is where the writing comes in. I am writing to share. For you. For me. For the space swirling above us where all our thoughts can go and breathe and blend together into life lessons, coming down to be plucked from when we need them to lean on, grow from, to find some grounding.

Without people willing to share their sober stories, I know I would be feeling more alone than I do today. Heck, maybe I would still be out brunching on my third bottomless mimosa and paying a restaurant bill of $50+ for a few hours of chatter that I would not even recall by tomorrow. The stories of others helped get me here, and so I want to lend out my journey in case I can offer hope, or a nudge forward, or give someone a relatable place to begin. I needed those stories so I know there are more folks like me out there – searching, seeking, wanting to start sober and looking for insights to grab hold of.

The wine is gone. The improving and expansion of life is beginning. I plan to share what I am learning along the way and I want to hear from the rest of you as well. Let’s all toss our stories up into the swirl together and learn from one another.

I will end with this: I wholeheartedly believe that the choice of sober living is a personal one that none of us owe explaining to the world. While I believe that sharing our stories is an amazing tool, I 100% respect and admire those who nurture their journey from a distance. The most important thing is you and how you need to care for that unique and special soul of yours. I thank you for gently tending to this vulnerable truth of mine that I have shared and for meeting me here as you are.

From The Ordinary

October 26, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

I have put off writing this because I have been waiting for the perfect message to form in my head. The message where I say ground breaking things and I blow your mind with some unique life view that you haven’t thought of yet. Where I share wisdom that is profound yet utterly simple. I have been putting this off until I felt elegant on paper and had the stature of someone less ordinary and more…accomplished. Enlightened. Grand.

This idea of waiting for the “right time” goes against the advice I have heard over and over – There is no right time to start. Just pick up the pen and paper or open the laptop, and begin. Some days it will suck and the struggle to form a sentence will bury you in self-loathing, while other days you will find a flow and ease. It takes time, they say. It takes routine and practice. Anne Lamott would agree. In Bird by Bird, Lamott expresses that a “shitty first draft” is to be expected. “All good writers write them. This is how they end up with good second drafts and terrific third drafts.” So why wait? Why put off my writing any longer?

Self doubt. That is why. I read the platforms of others who have been at this writing game for awhile. Quickly I dive into the free fall:

You don’t sound like them. You are too ordinary. What they have is unique.

They are professionals. They are experienced. Life qualified.

What do you have to say that actually matters?

I do not have all my ducks in a row, all my shit dialed in, or profound life statements that will shake the ground you walk on and open you to radical new ways of thinking. I am still in the mess of life. I am still picking up pieces from my brokenness. I am still tangled up and working on unpacking a knot of pain, worry, resentment, insecurity, fear. I am taking many breaks along my path and often they are spent having meltdowns and temper tantrums. I have held back from writing and putting my ideas out there because I am still too humanly flawed. Too ordinary. What I have to share is in the messy, not out of it – not packaged up nicely with the perfect life-lesson bow wrapped around it looking wise and insightful.

And yet, this morning I pushed past all that doubt and my want for the perfect message. I chose to write anyways. Here I am with my scattered life toolkit to see what happens. This change of thought to dive in unpolished is the result of some late night reading – The Great Work Of Your Life by Stephen Cope.

Cope reflects on the lives of both everyday people and of well-known individuals. He unveils the idea that regardless of your stature, everyone has a journey to self discovery and to finding your gift, otherwise known as finding your dharma. This process of discovery will be different for each of us because we all have a unique footprint with variables in our lives that make the pursuit different. There is no one-size-fits-all template to follow.

Our size and how we show up in the world is a conflict many of us face. Cope explains that size is one of the biggest challenges when finding your dharma. He notes that, “Grandiosity and devaluing both represent unrealistic thinking about possibility. Grandiosity motivates us to try to be bigger than we could possibly be. Devaluing makes us think of ourselves as smaller than we actually are.”

We don’t need to act bigger and more grand than we truly are, because that will stop us from showing up authentically, nor is there reason to hide or minimize yourself either. Believing your worth and standing tall in your shoes is too important. And so we find this need for balance in where you rest among the bigness and the smallness of it all. Regardless, your size does not determine your value or what you offer this world with your gift, your dharma.

So how does this relate to my writing? To believe that my life experience is not enough to share with the world is devaluing. On the flip side, I am not going to try and write a self-help book just yet because that would be too big, too grandiose for what I know. There is a balance in choosing to trust and share what I have to say through writing, while making sure that I don’t begin to pretend to be more than who I truly am. I want to honor my life lessons by lending them out to the world to hear, for whomever chooses to listen, without falling into the trap of thinking I need to mold or shift my voice to conform to what I think people want to hear.

I am not seeking to be grand. I am seeking to reflect and continue learning, to share my vulnerabilities and build a community of thoughtfulness and relatability. Sharing my lessons and ideas on life is nothing more than releasing them to float out in the world for whomever they might resonate with. Nothing more. Nothing less. Not small. Not big. Just ordinary. I no longer wait for perfectionism and profound enlightenment so that my words might become more powerful or pretty. I start, right here, where I am. In the storms and in the triumphs, I am here.

I may not be Oprah with a Rolodex of intelligent and enlightened friends to bring to this table of conversation, but I do have 36 years of experience being a human. Somewhere in these 36 years the messy and the pretty paint a story of value and depth. As I put my humanness out there, imperfect and in the moment of learning, my intention is to show that it’s okay to show up in our current place of being, whether it be celebrating, defeated, confused, curious, hopeful, angry….wherever it may be, because in each of those moments we all have something worthy of sharing and that is useful to hear. Even if what we share is, what the actual fuck is going on in my life!?! There is value even in that because sharing honestly and being vulnerable is what ignites connection and acts as a guide for more people to look inward and check-in with themselves. It reminds us that we are not alone and other people are having similar experiences. What we share doesn’t have to be perfect or profound. Be imperfect. Be raw. That is what I am learning. That is what I will be sharing. We just need to show up and be human no matter if we are ordinary or Oprah. It all matters.

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Choosing Self

March 17, 2019April 10, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

It has taken 35 years to accept within myself that it is okay to do what feels right for me and to eliminate all the other noise—the noise that cripples me into thinking I need to consider how my actions are affecting another person and fearing the judgement my actions may create from others. A simpler way to say this is, I have finally stopped giving a fuck—most days. I still struggle and allow my head to get wrapped up in the noise sometimes and I do my best to remind myself often that this life I am living is mine, and not to be lived to appease others. This is advice I have heard for a long through various outlets—to stop giving a fuck about things that are not directly important to me. I have been reminded time and time again that it is a waste of my energy to worry about how I may be perceived because of what I am doing for myself to be happy. This includes the day to day adventures and what I choose to do with my time, to larger life choices in how I live and paths I walk down to experience life how I need to.
Let me explain how ridiculous my concerns with others opinions was becoming. One day here in Mexico (we are living here for a four-month stint) my husband left on a walk while I was tied up on a work phone call. He did not leave a note and I did not know what time to expect him back. Hours had passed since he had left the house and I was packing up for a late afternoon outing that I had planned. We only have one key to our home in Mexico and you must lock the door from the outside, with the key. If I took the key and locked the door, my husband would be locked out. If I left the door unlocked, our house was open for anyone to enter and possibly take our belongings—and I had no idea how long he would still be out. It was a risk to leave and not lock the door as our door tends to push open in the breeze.
I text my husband to find out when he would be home and after 15 minutes I had still not heard back. I wanted to leave and I was becoming frustrated that I felt stuck in this dilemma of if I should leave with the door unlocked so he had access, or stay and wait for his return, missing out on my outing.
And then it dawned on me. No one was stopping me from leaving except for myself. I could go on my outing and leave the door unlocked. I was creating the dilemma. My husband had not communicated his plans for return, so I could sit there and become resentful over the fact that he had been gone for hours and adjust my plans due to the issue of locking the door, or I could continue with my plans and do what I wanted, and not let the overlap of our plans be an issue. Yes, this required me accepting the fact that I was leaving our home unlocked for an unknown amount of time…with all our valuable stuff. My choice to leave had some risk, but as I sat there thinking about it, I asked myself what was truly holding me back. I realized I was worried about what my husband would think. I was worried that if someone did break in and take our valuables, that it would be viewed as my fault. Taking a step back and looking at this situation from a 30,000 ft view, I recognized that this situation was the result of poor communication between my husband and I. This was not a life or death situation. Choosing to go out anyways was not disrespecting anyone or making such a monumental mistake that we would never recover. Again, there were some risks, but was it worth not going out due to fear of what could happen?
I left. I went out anyways. I left that damn door unlocked. Ten minutes later, my husband responded to my text and let me know he was almost home. Everything worked out fine.
The example I use above is a little silly I think, but it sets me up for what I am sharing with you: do more of what you want and stop adjusting your actions based off fear or out of concern with what others may think.
In situations where you are feeling the dilemma of others thoughts, opinions, or judgements against your own choice of action, stop and breathe. Step back to a 30,000 foot view. What do you see?
I am guilty of living my life in an over analytical bubble where all my actions and words have been chosen based out of fear of what others may think, or how I might bother someone else by owning my wants and acting how I need, but the countless fucks I have given have become too heavy for me to mentally or emotionally carry. I have hit my maximum limit of fucks.
This is my advice—do what you want. Live and speak in a way where you feel authentic to who you are and do not alter yourself based on the idea you may be judged or affect someone else. Of course, do not be an asshole. Treat people the way you want to be treated and be considerate. You can be a nice and pleasant person while also owning your truths.

Disposing Of A Pest

February 25, 2019April 10, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

IMG_2492 copy I have always fantasized about a life focused on writing and have dreamt about the day I sit down and create the movie scripts and fictional novels that swirl in my head. I have daydreamed about my blog… like this one…becoming a space people visit often for my weekly dose of life experience. I have always wanted to create a bigger conversation, like a podcast, being part of passion and creative enthusiasm. So why the fuck am I struggling so hard to make these dreams my reality?

I sat in front of the mirror tonight and these powerful sentences came to me that collectively was stitching together a dialog for a scene from a movie, or a character for a book. I could see it in my mind and I could feel who this woman was, what she ate for breakfast, the grease stain on her shirt from scrubbing the bacon pan….I knew the life experience she was having. As soon as I sat down to get it on paper, the moment was gone. In the five minutes it took me to finish brushing my teeth, use the restroom, and say goodnight to my husband, the entire drive and creative hurricane I was experiencing vanished. This woman slipped through memory and it was as though she never existed. I could not get her back.

There is a lot of frustration I have with myself. I have the perfect situation right now, living in Mexico with a work-from-home job that I can set the hours for, a home designed for creative exploration, and time. Lots of extra time! I could be writing and chasing this dream. So why am I constantly deciding I am too tired and putting this off… still! When I was working full-time in the states and feeling bogged down, wanting to break-free from the 9-5, I swore that if I had “this and that,” it would work. And here I am… with “this and that,” and it is still not working!

“This and that” have changed nothing!

Where is my passion? Where is my drive? This mundane existence has been hitting me hard the past two years and I am at a breaking point. I can’t continue down a path where I long for the weekends and dread when they come to a close. And when I look back at my weekend and what I accomplished.. it is nothing more than spending time running as far from my life as possible.

I want to feel life each day. I want to be enthused and ecstatic about what I am doing every morning I wake. I want curiosity to fill my soul and to feel a fever of creative madness. I am longing for a passion that fuels me and becomes my obsession… the thing I can’t wait to get to each day. Right now I have none of it. Where and how do I find it? I am desperate to get away from this lack of existence at age 35. I have so much more.

I do not know when I lost my drive and when I stopped feeling alive. It happen at some point unexpectedly, and I have welcomed this state of being for far too long. The guest of despair and boredom is no longer welcome, but like a pest, I have to figure out how to trap and dispose of it.

I do not know the first thing about trapping a rodent, but like anything, time and research will hopefully unveil the answer. More to come.

Sad Days

December 23, 2018April 10, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

Some days I wake-up and I feel under the weather mentally and emotionally. On days like these, I tend to favor lit candles, incense, singer-songwriter music, walks, and minimal social interaction. I prefer to be alone.

I believe it is important to understand why we act how we do, or feel the things we do is. I also believe it is okay to feel emotion and to not always have a fine-tuned understanding as to why these feelings are present and joining us. Some times we are sad and we don’t need to uproot everything to find the source. Just hang with the feelings… let them be.

When I wake-up and feel off… sensing a high level of emotion or sensitivity, I quickly assess myself, and then I move forward.

“What is this Holly…? Is this everyday? Just today? An occasional state of being? How long have you been feeling this way? How often? Be honest!”

I recognize that the day is going to be an off day, and I accept it. I realize I will likely eat crappier than normal, take a long midday nap, not get through my to-do list, and spend endless time staring off with a foggy mind.

The self check-in helps me decide if this is more than a dreary day or a storm that will quickly pass. I know many people in my life who have battled depression, anxiety, and mental illness. I choose to be mindful and to ask myself… what is this Holly? Those conversations help me to recognize the difference between needing to extend an arm and seek further help, or continue with my day, honoring the sad feelings, and letting them pass, like a visitor.

I assess and and then I breathe. Today I am sad. That is okay.

We don’t always need a grand reasoning as to what is causing sadness, frustration, anger, or low self-esteem. We are all going to have off days… sometimes it turns into two days, three, four, maybe a week! As long as I am waking every morning and checking-in with myself, I am doing alright.

“Another rough day huh? Feeling bummed about nothing in particular? Giving yourself a hard time for eating that extra large chocolate bar last night? Okay self… we will hang in this Eeyore state of mind… for now.”

“If it is a good morning, which I doubt.”- Eeyore

When it becomes too consistent… then we are going to change our strategy.

For me, the process of understanding sadness is mindfulness. I consider how long I have felt negative, or how often. I look at what is going on around me that could be causing me to feel under the weather. Is it super cold and cloudy out? Have my husband and I been arguing? Am I missing my family? Is there something at work that has me carrying a higher load of stress than typical? I take time to look at what is happening in my life, and recognize how those events could be bogging down my happy- o -meter.

I am in no way dismissing the importance and legitimacy of true depression and mental illness that requires even grander awareness and at times, medication, therapy, and professional support. Those who suffer from a greater deal of sadness that lasts beyond a short time frame… extending into months or years… that is more than I am capable of speaking to because that is not something I have experienced. Again, this is why I consistently check-in with myself. If I begin to see a pattern that is beyond the occasional gray day, then I know this may require grander attention.

At this time, I am only talking about the temporary gray days that I do know exist, and noting that those gray days are okay. It is okay to have sad days. It is also okay to recognize that it is more, much deeper, and to extend an arm for help.

I feel like we all revert to acting like everything is okay all the time… to everyone at work, at the store, at a party gathering… to everyone except for the bathroom mirror. What is it about the bathroom mirror? It brings out all my confessions!

Being sad is okay. Admitting we are sad is okay. Can you imagine what that realness might look like?

Co-worker: “Good morning, how are you?”

You: “Ugh man, I am crappy today. I don’t really know why… just feeling tired and off for some reason. I would love to skip work and eat salty popcorn while watching Garden State.”

Co-worker: “I hate those days. I had one of those last week. That is why I called in sick. I hope it gets better for you.”

We revert to “I’m fine” because we fear the vulnerability and honesty of having a rough day. What would happen if we were honest? Would it turn out worse than we already feel?

My point is… be mindful of the sad days when things feel off and be okay with it. It is temporary and part of the human experience. If it isn’t temporary and you are bogged down all the time… a 24/7 Eeyore… then go talk about it with someone. That too is okay!

Walking

November 30, 2018April 10, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

When I start out on a walk, the feeling is similar to when I first step into a hot tub – piercing goosebumps all over my body from the shock of the hot water, causing complete chaos, all my limbs contracting inward like a dying spider. I know the further I dip into the tub the closer I am to relaxation and blissful warmth, and so I seep down further and further, and after about 30 seconds, a final large exhale. I am submerged.

An odd way to describe the first few steps of my walks, I know. It has nothing to do with temperature (usually) and more about the initial action of beginning that forward movement and persuading myself that the walk is something I want…to keep going…to submerge.

I walk for a few reasons. I know it is a good form of exercise, I always enjoy the randomness of what I see, and it helps me unleash my thoughts. Though I have these beneficial reasons for walking, when the time comes for my outing, I tend to fight going. It is easy to tell myself not to do it, don’t go. I work out every morning so the exercise excuse always surfaces first – “I already did my work out for the day.” Then I move to the laundry list of stuff that must get done and convince myself that there is more important things to get done in the hour. This entire battle happens every time I have a planned walk, and it takes me a good 45 minutes before I get my shoes on and go. The reason that typically gets me out the door is the self reminder of the rhythmic thinking and mental processing I do when I walk , much like the conversation I have with myself when I want to go hot tubbing. I just have to get past that initial dip.

I likely have upwards of 50-100 thoughts on a typical hour walk. I have never counted, but that number feels realistic. Some of my thoughts come and go within seconds – in one ear and out the other as they say. Some thoughts linger for a few minutes and I make a mental note to write it down when I get home. Some of the thoughts linger, for much longer, and end up following me around long after the walk has ended.

These many thoughts that happen during my walks is the reason I feel so accomplished when I return, because I have unleashed new ideas, conversed over stressors that have been bogging me down, determined solutions to problems, discovered what my next passion and hobby is going to be, convinced myself that I am a master of many things, found the meaning to big life questions, made up my mind about issues, contemplated new ways to approach life, selected paint colors for the home, wondered what the decor behind each house door looks like, what the story is on the junkyard down the alley, and many many other thoughts. This is just naming a few.

Now, thoughts don’t only happen when I am walking. They also happen while I am cooking dinner and when I set my head down on my pillow for the night. Those thoughts are usually some of my heaviest. Thoughts also join me in waiting rooms, during massages, in line at the grocery store, and through my entire day. The difference however, between thoughts during my walks and thoughts at all other times, is that as they come in and meander in my mind while walking, I process the thoughts much differently. The fresh air, the rhythmic pattern of my steps, my cortisol suppressed and endorphins running high – these all help me hear and approach my thoughts very methodically, instead of feeling like I am herding cats, which is how I feel about many of my thoughts 75%…well, 90% of the time.

Whether you walk to feel accomplished in your health and exercise, walk because you lack transportation, walk because you drank too much and driving is a horrible idea, or walk because, like me, it helps with all the swirling conversations you are having in your head… just walk. Walk for all the reasons I mentioned and more.

C h a n g e

November 24, 2018April 10, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

After years of moving boxes from one home to the next (literally 9 or 10 homes), my husband and I have landed in Mexico. We purchased a quaint home in the Michoacan state in a small colonial town known as Patzcuaro.

Ending up in Mexico was intentional, the dream for as long as I have known my husband. We worked hard to get here and we had to make a lot of changes and shuffle our cards time and time again, even when we liked the hand we were holding. We played the game called life, and finally, we landed on the winning tile.

When we arrived in Patzcuaro three weeks ago and began to settle into this new part of our life, I was humbled. Here we were, emerged in a moment that we had been longing for, yet both of us were looking at one another overwhelmed and asking “now what?” There was a lack of excitement, and an overabundance of, “oh shit.”

We had a goal. We spent years making change after change and losing sleep over what next step to take to align everything perfectly. So, on that first evening here in Mexico, as we sat in the courtyard of our new home under the bright green lime tree, bellies full of homemade tortillas and carnitas, we were tight chested and glancing at one another in complete doubt. I was at a loss and frustrated that this was how we were feeling. Where was the exuberance of joy and self-rejuvenation? Why were we feeling more anxious than relaxed?

Did we do the right thing?

My husband and I awoke the next morning after restless sleep and agreed that for the next few weeks we would take it day by day. We would be open about what we were feeling. We spent our days venturing the town, miles of cobblestone streets walked. We sat in coffee shops and watched the locals bustle around. We milled around local stores and found our favorite vendors that supplied us with fresh ingredients and staple items.

Fast forward to the present moment.

Tomorrow, we head back to the states for the holidays. The time here has flown by and the girl sitting under the lime tree, feeling perplexed and confused, has vanished.

I look around our home here in Mexico, tidied up and ready for out departure.This space that once overwhelmed me I now feel empty leaving, a departure I don’t want to make.

What I’ve come to realize is that even in the things we know we want, the dreams we long for… even when we get them… they too challenge us.

There is something in longing someone or some item, or a lifestyle. There is a process required to get there, or a challenge to overcome to obtain it (or not). It is a journey. So when you make it to the end of the road, when you climb to the top of that mountain you have been climbing, what is next? For us, there was a sense of “oh shit… we are here, now what?”

My advice? Sit in that discomfort. Dive into the new adventure, even when feeling overwhelmed or insecure, unsure, scared, or wondering if you have made a mistake. Push past the self-doubt because there is a lesson in every new adventure, and there is space to expand and grow.

That first evening in Mexico under the lime tree, I looked at my husband and I told him, “maybe this does not become the dream we thought we wanted, and maybe at the end of this stay we recognize that this is a very short story of our lives… people love short stories!”

Well folks, the story is continuing and the next chapter starts when we return here to our home in Mexico, come January 2019.

While this adventure indeed proved to be the dream we spent years working toward, it started rockier than we had anticipated, and there were lessons to learn.

Change, whether expected or not… whether wanted or disliked, takes some getting use to. You’ve got to be willing to plunge into the deep end and while the water may feel shocking and cold at first, the temperature eventually mellows and the swim can become quite nice.

U n d e r w a y

November 9, 2018April 10, 2019 ~ HollyC ~ Leave a comment

…..

………

…….. This is me thinking. It happens a lot. I live inside my head more than I would like, and it is something I am always working on. I want to spend less time worrying or caring about how I am perceived by the world. I want it, so like…just do it.

I am working on strengthening the muscles of my mind that I love and enjoy: dreaming, being creative, discovering new ideas, reminiscing on fond memories, contemplating what is next for me, pondering big life questions, finding beauty in simple things. I remind myself every day to let go of the pesky thoughts that result in loss of sleep, questioning myself, worrying over people or situations that amount to wasted moments of time. I am a work in progress. Aren’t we all?

I have been putting this first blog post off because I have wanted something profound to say – waiting for the perfect unison of words to come to me… voila! I imagined it happening like the scene in The Wizard Of Oz when the good witch floats down as a iridescent bubble, landing in front of Dorothy to reveal herself. I’ve been waiting for the big reveal and it hasn’t happen, a good reminder that life has its own agenda and will likely not happen how I want or anticipate.

So here are my thoughts, without the help of the good witch.

There are a lot of benefits to routine, like the fact that I always get up and get my workouts in, and I always make time to enjoy my cup of tea with honey and cream. I prepare meals every Sunday which allows for healthy eating during the week. Yet, routine can hinder opportunity. There are chances that pass me by to learn something new and to expand on life lessons because of my need for structure. I know this about myself, and I challenge myself more and more to L E T G O and dive into the newness of things.

You will never know what the world has to offer if you don’t explore it… even if you are simply exploring your own backyard.

How is my life sitting, unchanged, due to missed opportunity to expand? How am I choosing to not grow as an individual by doing the same, day in and day out?

I was invited to coffee by a woman in Astoria, Oregon, the town that we recently relocated to. The gesture was nice and I was complimented that she invited me. I also left the invite unanswered in my inbox for days. I was hesitant to meet someone new and to put energy into letting her get to know me… because letting someone in and showing up to someone I do not know creates unpredictability, and I do my best to avoid the unpredictable.

Well, if you are curious, she was great, and our connection could have not come at a better time. I walked away from our time together feeling confident, excited, and blessed to have met her. She had coffee, I had tea.

Our lives change when people come in and out of them. I gain nothing by ignoring new encounters and adventures. Our coffee date could have amounted to nothing more than friendly conversation and I could have left indifferent. Would that matter? Isn’t it better to take the gamble and see what opportunity might be knocking? What is the harm in spending a morning doing something different and interacting with a new person?

Over the past 35 years, I have learned a lot about myself, the biggest lesson being that I will always be learning, improving, and becoming a better me. I’ve done a shitty job in the past at capturing my reflections and making sense of the lessons placed in front of me. I realize now that each lesson in my life has been its own, with an identity and a story. To bind all my lessons together into one book, or to paint them all on one canvas would not work. The colors of each lessons would not flow together, the textures and depth are too much for one space. To write all my lessons down into one story would make for a roller coaster plot that would only confuse the reader. Instead, I believe all the lessons in my life are a painting, or a story all their own, and together in the end, whenever that time comes for me, I will have a collection of pieces.

I am underway, 35 years late, and I have no idea what will come of this. My hope is that this experience will continue to push me outside of comfort and reward me in greater confidence, just like the teabag said. Either way, it will be another lesson to paint, a story to write.