Announcement / get your copy of Emergency Calming Down Techniques

I’ve been reeling hard lately in some cursed combination of heartache, numbness, political anxiety, winter stuff and some wild panic episodes.

Have been holding on (for dear life) to my Emergency Calm The Hell Down Techniques from a long time ago, and it’s been helping.

I am giving away a copy of these (ebook + audio recordings) to anyone who gives any sum of money to the appreciation funds / discretionary fund in the hopes that we can all keep practicing together, for each other and for the collective, and also for ourselves in these scary times. ❤️

Solstice-ing

Sheila, maybe, and the paper-colored sky

I was listening to an old, old episode of the Reply All podcast (RIP), and the hosts were catching up with people they’d talked to over the past year, and they called a woman who, in my mind at least, is named Sheila, but I can’t remember if that’s because it was in fact her name or because she reminds me of someone.

Sheila, maybe, was recently divorced and living in a cold trailer somewhere in Indiana, and she’d had a rough year.

I over-identify with [Maybe: Sheila] because I too live in a cold trailer, and am also experiencing a kind of heartbroken loneliness that I would describe as unbearable, untenable, unsustainable, overwhelming…

She described the Indiana winter as “the sky is the color of a blank piece of paper”, and the way she was coping with that vast nothing-ness of papery sky was by venturing out on walks to look for owls, to listen to owls and observe the owls.

Something about

Something about stark contrast, the beauty revealed within the starkness. Something about what is or can be made visible within the vast nothing. Something about persevering.

This also reminds me of something else, what does it remind me of?

Starkness

Ah yes, a beautiful audio piece that Arash sent me, saying it made him think of me, and that I should listen, so I did.

It’s from Terry Tempest Williams, a writer and conservationist, and it’s an evocative description of the awful (and awe-ful) terrifying experience of witnessing a flood, up close and present.

Many images and feelings reverberated within me while listening. Maybe because I have also been through flooding events while on my own, though not at that proximity.

But especially this, in her words about the desert but true of so many things:

“What appears at first to be nothing becomes everything.”

Maybe, maybe

To be clear, I am not as brave as Sheila, not nearly.

It’s been many years (more than thirty) since I had to make it through a midwestern American winter, and I don’t think I could do another one. Let’s be honest, I am only barely coping here in the southwest, a place where my friend the sun can fortunately be counted on to visit me fairly regularly.

The big sky of southern New Mexico is quite often blue in winter, and even on the most grim days there are nearly always blue streaks peeking through, but I simply will not venture outside unless the sun is shining.

And even then it requires elaborate trickery to coax myself into a fifteen minute walk around the property, walking in circles, saying hi to the trees. I’m glad to have done it when it’s done, but I never want to start.

I wish I were someone who could find the beauty in good-weather-for-owl-watching season, but I am not. I admire the approach though.

The everything in the nothing

The thing about the [pits of despair] experiences in life is that they do genuinely feel like FOREVER, even when you know that they are of right-now and not-forever.

They are able to project a vastness they do not possess, and part of steadfastly dissolving the lies of depression is remembering that.

This is momentary, it is temporary, it is uncomfortable and very unpleasant and I do not have to like it or find anything good in it.

And, it will pass, it will ease, something better is on the horizon even when I am fully unable to believe this is true.

Love, Strength, Courage, Miracles

I do the things that help.

I try to do even more of the things that help, and less of the things that do not help.

There is a lot of trust in this, and trust is scary, hard and not fun. The vulnerability of trust is an enormous act of bravery, and this is easy to forget too.

I might not be Sheila levels of brave, and will not take to the fields in pursuit of owls, but I do know that every single one-step-at-a-time of getting through a hard winter is its own form of fractal magic.

And so I ask for Love, Strength, Courage, Miracles, on repeat. Or something even better.

Solstice stones

The stones I like to skip (journaling questions) around Solstice are:

What wants to be eliminated? What wants to be illuminated?

Eliminating:

Releasing, undoing, disentangling, eliminating:

Doubt. Despair. Shame. Regret.

Judging myself for how hurt and broken I feel, wishing I could just hurry up and heal when that’s not how grief or healing work.

The habit-pattern of trying to solve the same impossible Rubix cube in my head when it brings me no joy. The devotion to the boring mysteries, made even more boring by how utterly unsolvable they are.

Assuming the worst about everything. Panicking first, strategizing later.

Either rushing or frozen, no in between. Forgetting to give myself grace, forgetting that I can’t push myself into feeling better. Sometimes the sky is blank like a page, and sometimes I am too. Listen for an owl.

Illuminating:

Devotion to beauty, noticing it in the natural world, in my space, in a breath of love into my courage-heart.

Candles. Lighting a candle for something better, without having to know what the better something is or looks like, just knowing that there is better, and I am allowed to want it for me and for the world.

Patterns. The easier they are to see, the easier they are to interrupt. Lovingly interrupting the pattern and shifting the pattern. Doesn’t matter where you interrupt it, even doing it after the fact has still altered the pattern.

My ongoing wish for Loving-Clarity, a revelatory clarity that reveals itself with love and compassion, a clarity that is kind.

Courage. A ten minute meandering for courage. Heating up soup for courage. Existing as an act of courage. Hope sparks as a demonstration of courage. Desire as a form of courage.

What’s working?

Practicing Now Is Not Then, and naming all the ways that now is in fact different from then.

Keeping a list of courageous things, and doing something brave each day. Often this is a very small step, but any step counts.

Making sure that each day I do something for mental health (wash my hair in the sink, or massage hands and feet with clove oil that I made on the new moon).

The dishes get washed, the rug gets vacuumed. The chop wood carry water of doing the basics.

I say thank you to my tree friends. I name what is helping, what got done, whatever small wins. And I celebrate these small wins with anyone willing to celebrate with me.

Solstice wishes, generally

Sometimes thinking about the promise of longer days and earlier light makes me feel hopeful in a dark winter, and sometimes all I can think about is how there’s still at least ten more weeks of winter.

So I guess my primary wishes are as ever about hope and trust, hoping towards, trusting towards, turning towards the light, but also about getting better at existing in the places that feel constricted or scary.

I am wishing for surprise ease, surprise miracles, good things on the horizon revealing themselves, already here.

And I am wishing for the steadying, grounding practices to do their steadying, grounding work of sustaining me through the hard times.

I am wishing to be surprised, in a good way by good news, things working out, the cauldron of It Solves Itself doing its beautiful work.

Solstice wishes, slightly more specific

More people to go on walks with, more people to hug, more companionship generally.

Simple solutions to seemingly complex situations. It is all working itself out. Upgrades are on their way.

May motivation reappear, with some sweetness and oomph to it. May I trust the process.

An easier time emerging from the pits of despair. A rededication to the practices that help and support staying out of said traps. Or what if they aren’t traps but more like reminders? That’s an idea.

Each step counts

Each step counts, whether I believe this or not, but what if I could remember and believe? What if I could infuse each step with intention. This moment matters.

Breathing courage into my loving heart, breathing love into my courage heart. Keeping on keeping on, but then something even better than that.

There is a pair of owls that nest near me. I am going to have to trust that knowing they are there is enough, because I am not going to go look for them.

Consulting with a tough, scrappy, motivated self

Took my own advice, and stopped writing and went outside. There is a spot in the field that feels like the center of a someday labyrinth, and I walked circles around it for twenty minutes.

It didn’t have advice for me because it is not a labyrinth yet, but it did suggest that I consult with the part of me who is tough, scrappy and motivated. The self I knew when I lived in Berlin.

Fine, let’s talk

Tough scrappy motivated self: It’s good that you braved the outdoors, it’s good to get perspective.
Me: I don’t feel better though.
Tough scrappy motivated self: Compared to what? Brave > not able to be that brave is a win. It’s all wins.

Me: I don’t want a pep talk. I want to feel more hopeful and less [the current feelings].
Tough scrappy motivated self: I wouldn’t pep-talk you anyway. You will feel better when you feel better. Right now you are experiencing the healing powers of feet on the earth, striding, being alive and in nature, beneath a beautiful sky. It will land, the land will land, you will land, it will make sense later. I’m just glad you walked it out.

Me: I miss having someone who was excited for my plans and excited to help me plan.
Tough scrappy motivated self: I am excited for your plans, you will remember how to feel excited again, the two of us are enough for right now. You don’t have to believe me, it’s just true.
Me: Okay, let’s walk more together and see how it goes.

Let’s walk more together

Solstice is nearly here. Let’s cultivate hope sparks and tend to what needs tending.

Wishes into the earth, into the cauldron of It Solves Itself. Doing what helps, and a little more of that. And then a little more!

Channeling steadiness. Making a list.

Looking to the stars. Wrapping up in blankets. Sending my wish of COURAGE into the earth, drawing courage up from the earth. We made it this far, good job, let’s keep going.

Come play in the comments, I appreciate the company

Leave a pebble (o) to say you were here, so I know I’m not doing this alone.

Also it feels good to pick up a pebble and place it somewhere, I have noticed.

And of course you are welcome to share anything that sparked for you while reading, anything that helped, clues received, or anything on your mind, wish some wishes, process what’s percolating…

I am lighting a candle for us and our beautiful heart-wishes. What a brave thing it is to allow ourselves to want something better for us and for the world.

Or if there’s anything you’d like to explore further or toss into the wishing pot, the healing power of the collective is no small thing, companionship helps.

Whatever comes to mind or heart. Let’s support each other’s hope-sparks…

Housekeeping note: You can subscribe to posts by email again!

If you aren’t seeing these updates in your in your email and want to, you can can solve that here.

This will pop up a new page on Follow.It that lets you subscribe via email, newsletter, or RSS reader. They say “expect 50 stories a week”, and that’s a very imaginary number, once a week is the dream.

I am emailing copies of the Emergency Calming Techniques package!

Anyone who gives to the Discretionary this week (more info below) will get my Emergency Calming Techniques package by email as a pdf. I am only checking email twice a week because I no longer have wifi at my place, long story, so be patient with me but if it doesn’t show up within the week then let me know!

I have some ideas for the next ebook too but if you do too, shoot me an email or share in the comments.

A request!

If you received clues or perspective or want to send appreciation for the writing and work/play we do here, I appreciate it tremendously.

I am accepting support (with joy & gratitude) in the form of Appreciation Money to the Discretionary Fund. Asking is not where my strength resides but Brave & Stalwart is the theme these days, and pattern-rewriting is the work, it all helps with fixing the many broken things.

And if those aren’t options, I get it, you can light a candle for support (or light one in your mind!), share this with someone who loves words, tell people about these techniques, approaches and themes, send them here, it all helps, it’s all welcome, and I appreciate it and you so much. ❤️