Tag: Feeling

The Rules We Make

~ tmdvir ~ Leave a comment

This week my therapist casually said, “you really are a rule follower.” I responded, “yeah. I’m pretty boring.” She quickly clarified.

Rules are there to make us feel safe.

Now, she wasn’t talking about all rules, about federal, state, municipal laws. She was talking about the rules we create for ourselves.

Rules like: I can only be angry or judgmental if it helps me clarify my boundaries. Bonus points if I then clearly set those boundaries with whoever crossed them.

(^^this is the rule that led to my therapist saying this in the first place).

Nobody taught me that rule. Nobody ever said that to me. If anything, the rule I was taught: unless a feeling is positive, don’t have it. If you do, you’ll never feel happy again.

Thankfully, I unlearned this second rule. But I can see where the first one is only a baby step from it. A box in which feeling my feelings it ok. And out of which, they must be fixed and stopped.

My therapist then gently reminded me that these rules of mine weren’t actually keeping me safe. Because feelings are not in and of themselves unsafe.

Now, I know they still feel unsafe to me sometimes. And to lots of people. Most of us were not taught how to let our feelings pass through us. Most of us are kinda scared that if we let ourselves feel things (specifically the “negatives” like sadness and anger and hurt) that something bad might happen. Maybe we’ll never stop feeling sad. Maybe in our anger we will hurt someone we love. Maybe if we’re hurt we’ll never be vulnerable, and therefore never feel connected, again.

I have gotten infinitely better at feeling my feelings. I started at a very low skill level on this one haha. But I still have some room to grow. I still have a tendency to only feel my feelings for a little while before my brain says “OK, you feel this, you recognize it, now how do we fix it?”

I am not sure what happens if I unlearn this. My guess is, another baby step, another bigger or differently shaped box.

But I’m curious. What would it be like to truly just let my feelings be. To let them flow in and out as they come and go. To not always have to attribute meaning to them. To learn from them what I can, not out of a need to fix, but out of curiosity about myself and those around me. And not always to learn. To sometimes just be. With them.

Surrendering is Not Doing Nothing

~ tmdvir ~ Leave a comment

Something really interesting has been going on in my life lately. Something that makes me wonder. In the past couple of months, I have had opportunities open up for me in the most interesting ways. Some are career related. Some are more about my personal life. But all of them brought to mind something I’ve been contemplating since 2017 when my word of the year was surrender.

You see, at that point in my life, the concept of surrender was totally foreign to me. I was used to planning, to being in control, and to believing that the only way to a fulfilling life is to plan and be in control. Of course, that was challenged at times. Like when I decided to move to Portland with the hopes of getting into a more creative field, but the only job offer I got was not creative and not so different from the job I had just left. I had a plan, but alas that’s not what turned out to happen. And when I got the offer I did, I was wary but excited. I had a good feeling about it. So I took it, even though it was not what I had planned.

The last two-plus years of my life have been a more intentional exercise in surrendering–ironically seeking surrender instead of letting it come to me. They’ve been an exercise in recognizing that control was at the very best a harmless illusion and at the very worst a lie I was using to hold myself back.

But in these two years, I kept struggling with the balance between surrender and action. Could I surrender and still work towards my goals? How can I be both an active participant in my life and passively surrendering to my lack of control?

And I think this week it dawned on me. Maybe.

I am starting to realize that surrender is more about trust than about not doing anything. Surrender is more about believing that there isn’t a right way, a right answer, a right path. It’s about recognizing that there are many paths and trusting that any path will lead you somewhere worthwhile and interesting.

The balance between surrender and action is that surrender is trusting that the doors will appear and open and action is trusting yourself to choose the one that fits you best at that moment. It’s also trusting that more doors will open regardless of the decision you make.

Before I started considering surrender, I was doing all the work. I was designing the door and getting the materials and building the door that I believed wanted to walk through. And I did it because I thought I was the only one that could design the right door for me. The thing was though, sometimes by the time the door was built, I didn’t want to walk through it anymore. And because I was so freaking focused on my door, and so sure that no other door would be good enough, I felt that I had no other options but to walk through the door I was no longer particularly interested in.

Now, I’m letting the doors show up and I’m considering each of them. I’m thinking about what feels right at the moment. I’m gathering information about each door. And I’m making a decision. And the doors keep showing up.

Just to keep it real, though, I don’t want you imagining me peacefully walking through my life by any means. I don’t think that’ll ever be me. I’m still anxious at times that I’m making the wrong decision. I still worry that if I say no to this door now–even if it’s something I think I might want in the future–I won’t get the opportunity again. I’m still scared sometimes that my life will not turn out to be worthwhile or interesting.

And I still keep walking. I still keep picking the door that feels right even through the fear. I still keep letting other doors shut even if I hope to see them again someday.

 

 

Are Vision Boards Magic?

~ tmdvir ~ 1 Comment

The following like all of my blog posts is purely my perspective. This (unlike some of my blog posts) is not a researched post, but just some observations and thoughts I’ve gathered over the years. Please bear with me. 

I made a vision board this year. This is literally my first vision board. I filled it with images–dusky deserts, vibrant warm colors, otters–and some words–Fun, Content, and United in Protest.

I don’t believe creating a vision board makes room for these things to come into my life. I don’t believe creating a vision board sends a message to the universe that I am ready for these things to enter my life.

What I do believe is that taking the time to sit down and search through images and see what I’m drawn to has helped bring my own attention to what I want from this year. For example, I didn’t realize how much I missed the desert until I kept longing for the images I was seeing during this project. So I decided I should probably find time this year to visit my friend in Arizona.

Another example, this past weekend was Portland’s Womxn’s March. I haven’t been to a lot of marches or protests. In 2017 I went to two. In 2018 I didn’t go to any. But knowing that the phrase “United in Protest” drew me in, I decided that would be something I would focus on. So when the Womxn’s March event went up on Facebook, I decided I would go. When it was pushed back two months, I decided I would still go. When last week came around, I told people I was going, and was slightly less sure in my statement than I’d hoped. I was anxious and nervous. What if I was uniting with something that was flawed? (probably). What if all (or many of) my friends and loved ones, knew something damning about the march and were judging me for wanting to support it? What if something terrible happens at the march?

Ah, the joys of anxiety.

But still, I kept remembering those words on my vision board. I kept telling myself, sure, you’re worried, but you wanted to unite in protest. You wanted to feel powerful in this way, during this often hopeless and frustrating (for me) time.

So I listened to my worries and decided to go anyway. I told my friends I would definitely be there. I asked if anyone wanted to join. I even made a poster! And the day of, still a little nervous and shaky and fearful of the judgment of my fellow public transport users, I headed to the march. I ended up meeting up with three friends (which was a grand surprise) and even a new coworker. I listened to speeches and marched and chanted a little (it was a very quiet march). And then I listened some more. I heard things I agree with wholeheartedly, some that left me thinking, and some that made me cringe with discomfort. And because of all that, I left feeling thoughtful and fulfilled.

For me, a vision board is not a way to communicate with the universe the things I am ready for. If there is a universal power of any sort, my assumption is it kinda knows. For me, a vision board is a way to communicate with myself what some deeper part of myself thinks might be best for me this upcoming year.

My brain is always going, always putting words to my feelings and thoughts. And sometimes, trying to bypass my brain and think a little less, and just pick things that draw me in is a way to get in touch with a different part of myself.

So I’ll plan the trip to Arizona and seek out more marches and protests and try to saturate my life with a little bit more color. I’ll make my vision of this year a reality. And I’ll let the universe do the rest.

 

How to…

~ tmdvir ~ Leave a comment

How to cope when someone you love and who loves you questions your entire life philosophy in 21 easy (and sometimes repetitive steps)

  1. Take deep breaths
  2. Stop yourself from crying cause you know they just can’t handle your tears
  3. Regret step 2 and wonder if you’ll be able to get in touch with those feelings again
  4. Try to redirect
  5. Try to redirect
  6. Try to redirect
  7. End the conversation trying to remember that this person whom you love who loves you means well
  8. Remind yourself that just because someone means well doesn’t mean you have to put up with their bullshit
  9. Talk to your friends about it
  10. Talk to your friends about it some more
  11. Talk to your friends about it until you get in touch with the feelings from step 2 again
  12. Cry
  13. Remember that you’ve intentionally picked people for your life who do not do this
  14. Revel in that intentionality
  15. Talk to your friends again
  16. Embrace the funky mood you’re in
  17. Remind yourself that you knew when you started this journey that some people (including ones you love who you know love you) wouldn’t get it
  18. Remind yourself that you are happy with your life and it’s working for you
  19. Count down the days until therapy
  20. Keep living your life doing yoga, reading, seeing friends, writing blog posts, going to your new job
  21. Remind yourself that you’ve got this

Feeling vs. Dwelling

~ tmdvir ~ Leave a comment

One of the main focuses of my therapy for the past two and a half years-ish, has been letting myself feel my feelings.

Now, those of you who know me well, might be thinking “she doesn’t need help with that!” And it’s true, I have a lot of feelings, and most of them I’m pretty good at feeling. I’m good at feeling momentary feelings that come up:

  • Sadness the night I rehomed my doggo
  • Happiness at a friend’s wedding
  • Loving warmth when I’m playing with my nieces and nephews
  • Irritation when my parents say something annoying

But I’m not so good at feeling the deeply buried things. Feelings associated with decades of beliefs that feel overwhelming to face. Feelings associated with a lack of self-worth, with fears of ending up alone, with surety that there is something deeply deeply wrong with me.

My therapist has slowly and gently pushed me to go there. To go into the depths when something pushes me to do so. Instead of shutting down the moment these deep and scary feelings come up.

Because, really, who wants to go there? Who wants to dive into the abyss of deeply held beliefs, grab something from down there, and bring it to the light. It’s embarrassing. And it’s extremely painful.

When I tell my friends this. When I tell them I’m trying to sit with these heavy feelings that come up. I get three general responses.

  1. Support
  2. Curiosity
  3. Horror

The support is always nice. It means I can lean on someone else while I’m weathering the storm that’s bound to be monstrous. It means I can share the thoughts that come up without fear of being judged or told I’m crazy.

The curiosity is always amusing. And while in the moment I rarely do anything with it, I enjoy touching base with those people later on to explain why I’m doing what I’m doing. Why I’m sitting with these feelings that many of us would rather just push down and walk away from.

The horror makes me sad. The horror are the friends that say “as long as you’re not dwelling” and “how do you know you won’t get stuck?” The horror is me years ago. The me that thought that if I let myself be sad, I’d be sad forever. The me that thought if I let myself feel fear, I’d be bringing bad events into my life (cause bad energy, y’all). The me that thought that feeling some feelings was bad. And if I wasn’t happy all the time it was my fault, my doing, my own negative perspective.

The thing is though, feelings, all feelings, are temporary. Quick side note here: depression and anxiety are not exactly feelings, especially if you have a diagnosis. Those may not be temporary and I urge you to go to a therapist to figure our what’s up. And back to the main show. Feelings are temporary. Happiness, sadness, anger, hurt. With time they really do pass. And they’ll pass either way. But if you let yourself feel them, they’ll pass and be gone. If you fight them and fight them. Push them down. Pretend they’re not there. Pretend you can just ignore them away. They’ll come back. Maybe not for years or decades. But they’ll be there waiting for you. They’ll come up in the weirdest moments and you might not even know what hit you.

Yesterday, I had a really tough day at work. I kept making small mistakes that felt like they were piling on. I wasn’t all there, and this isn’t a job that you can just go through the motions with. You have to be present. I kept being drawn to go down a path where I call myself stupid and judge myself harshly for being so dumb. I kept trying to remind myself that mistakes are a part of life, a learning experience, that that’s how my work sees them too. But my brain wasn’t having it. I needed to go down that path. Face the fear that my mistakes were insurmountable. Wonder what might happen. Cry it out. It’s a weird call to make, I know. To listen to old, maladaptive thought patterns in my head. But the thing is, they’re there anyway. I could fight them and invalidate them and keep telling them that mistakes are good. But what’s the point if they don’t listen?

Yesterday I chose to give them their voice. I chose to let them say “you’re dumb.” But just because they say it, doesn’t mean I have to listen or to believe them.

There’s an art to all of this that I’m not sure I’ve captured yet.

An ease that allows these beliefs to come through without allowing them to take over. A surrender that says: I know you’re there, I hear you and see you, and I’m still gonna do my thing, but I hear that you’re worried and I appreciate your sharing that.