Happy November, my dear friends!
I can't believe that it's already here, though the rows upon rows of Christmas decorations and toys are telling me that it's so (not that I'm one to complain... I am obsessed with the holiday season, something that I'm sure will be obvious in the coming weeks)!
I pray that you all are safe and sound wherever you are -- I am sending love to all of you who experienced the wrath of Hurricane Sandy this past week, and I hope that you are warm and rested in your corner of the world.
For me, with each new month comes reflection. I don't know what it is about the passing of each month, but something about the arrival of a new one reminds me to check my priorities, restructure my goals and recommit to my purpose. It's as if the turning of that calendar page is a sobering reminder of the importance of mindfulness, somehow speaking deeply into my heart... don't let this experience pass you by, live in the present, be mindful of each day, each passing moment.
If you've been following along, you know that one of my recent literary goldmines has been the book Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown. While I usually inhale a new book (like the one I finished yesterday while recovering from a sore throat in bed), this particular gem has had me working through it slowly. It has so much goodness, so much meat to it, that I just want to savor every bite. With each page, I am inspired and emboldened, not to mention soothed by the realization that my neuroses are quite normal.
To be completely honest... warning: moment of vulnerability here... while I attempt to keep a mask of cool, calm and control (gotta love that alliteration!), I am, sometimes (more frequently than I would like to be), a total ball of neurotic, anxious energy, albeit a very pretty and well-groomed one. My insecure thoughts like to run away with themselves, jumping from presumed weakness to weakness with glee, leaving me (and, let's be honest, my sweetheart) with a blubbering mess of anxiety and shame. Yeah, it's as fun as it sounds.
And, from what I've learned... while it might differ in degree or particular neuroses... I'm not alone. We may not all dissolve into tears at the end of an anxiety-producing day, or be victim to the disease of overanalysis, but our anxieties, our shame-filled insecurites... well, they're pretty universal. And, we all work through these painful pieces of vulnerability differently. Some of us exercise. Others of us eat. Some of us direct that anxiety onto our partners, fearful of speaking the words of vulnerability. Some of us are proactive, recognizing our patterns and creating boundaries to manage them in advance. Some of us hide in perfectionism, while many protect ourselves by desperately guarding ourselves against that pain and limiting our joy, as well. The list goes on...
But, in our society of crazy-busy, fill-every-moment, must-be-productive-ness, one of our most commonly used defenses is that of numbing. We use food, substances, even daily distractions to avoid our pain, our naked vulnerability.
Brene writes:
"... numbing vulnerability is especially debilitating because
it doesn't just deaden the pain of our difficult experiences;
numbing vulnerability also dulls our experiences of love, joy,
belonging, creativity, and empathy.
We can't selectively numb emotion.
Numb the dark and you numb the light."
While I was reading today, red holiday cup in hand and curled up in the comfy corner chair at my local Starbucks, I was struck with how deeply engrained our numbing-strategies are within our lives. Brene speaks of it as a kind of addictive behavior, and while it may not be compulsive or chronic like addiction, our attempts to numb our vulnerability, shame, anxiety and disconnection are deep-seated and desperate. We numb with comfort foods, that glass (or two or three) of wine after a long day, with pills. It's so habitual that it's normalized, accepted, even suggested. But we've also learned to numb with the distractions around us -- the tv, the internet, our smartphones. Instead of mindfulness, we've turned to mindless distractions, transforming what could be beautiful, relaxing or connecting -- your favorite tv show, fruitful conversation, long-distance connection -- into compulsion and desperation. We lose track of time online instead of having that sometimes difficult conversation with our partner. We choose social networks instead of spending quality time with our family. We compulsively check our phones to the point of drowning out the social interaction around us. We're so plugged in that we're tuned out.
"For me, it wasn't just the dance halls, cold beer, and Marlboro Lights
of my youth that got so out of hand - it was banana bread,
chips and queso, e-mail, work, staying busy, incessant worrying, planning,
perfectionism, and anything else that could dull those agonizing
and anxiety-fueled feelings of vulnerability."
-Brene Brown-
My habits of distraction are deeply engrained -- constantly checking my phone, my social networks, my email. Sometimes, I miss out on conversation. Or a passing bit of beauty on a long drive. Sometimes, I use my favorite romcom to check out of life for a bit -- numbing my anxiety with the familiar actors and predictable story lines. Other times, I use busyness to think about something else, anything else than the nagging anxiety. And I'm missing out on the tough, vulnerable, messy, and beautiful moments for growth and joy. I am tired of the numbing distractions, the unconscious bingeing, the habits created out of a wounded desire to disconnect.
This month, I am intentionally practicing being plugged into life, unplugging my phone and computer (other than for studying purposes) after 9pm with a commitment to return only after breakfast the next morning. On the other side of the world, I have a dear friend who is unplugging completely one day a week to reconnect and refresh. What about you? Do you need to re-program how you eat? Or drink? How can you cultivate connection, practice self-compassion and explore vulnerability? Where have you numbed out? I would love to create a community here where we can share and learn and grow together, because I know that I am learning so much from you.
Sending love your way. Be kind to yourselves!
