It all started with a cheesy self-help book.
I know, that's not what I'm supposed to willingly own up to but, there you have it: the reason behind my biggest life decision yet. A self-help book entitled "Calling in the One," which I suppose I began my journey with about this time 3 years ago.
I will say, the book served its purpose in more ways than one, but when it fell into my lap that year my intention was to soul-search, not to soul-mate. But I doubt you believe me, based on the little information I've given here, and I don't blame you.
3 years ago, I was living a very active lifestyle in New York, living with roommates, jogging to a yoga studio about a mile away in Astoria each day, singing in a little opera company and working for a giant music corporation on Madison Avenue. I was fit, young, energetic, and crabby. I was turning 30, was dating (the wrong guys) and was struggling to figure myself out - like, I guess, so many people do at 30 nowadays.
I don't know why, but I just have this feeling that 30-year-olds in the 1940s had their sh*t together, and I am sure that's what they would like me to keep on believing.
Anyway, after some particularly bitter bad dates, I dumped my woes on the sympathetic ear of one of my fellow sopranos in said opera company and I will never forget what she told me in response. She did not say "Oh poor you, your prince will come." (thank God). She didn't tell me what a jerk those guys were, and how anyone would be lucky to walk off into the sunset with me, or at least to the local brunch spot on an actual Saturday or Sunday like a boyfriend does, rather than someone only interested in "dating." No, she said to me, in all seriousness: "You have a bad picker. You choose assholes. You need to work on this."
A revelation! It was my fault! This was great news; I could fix that problem. How?
"...Before I met my guy," Sympathetic Soprano continued,".. I read this book, it sounds like a joke, but I swear it helped me find him. It's called 'Calling in the One.' Do not let the title fool you. I will send you the link tonight. You have nothing to lose by trying it out."
So, that is what I did. I tried it out. Mainly because a) I am a sucker for anything that has the potential to improve or shed light on oneself and b) I needed a project beyond "Go to Yoga every single night." And, truth be told, I wanted to know if it could work. If I would magically find my Knight with Shining Android, or whatever.
The book was admittedly nauseating if you approached it with anything less than a wide-open mind. It began by requesting the reader to meditate for 6-10 minutes or so each morning and repeating mantras along the lines of "I deserve love." Those initial chapters skimmed past my being rather unnoticed but I found myself a few chapters in burning old letters from exes or ghosts of some form or another (successfully without burning the house down - a very good omen), and listing off memories of all kinds of relationships in my life - romantic or otherwise. I began to travel backwards in time, dusting off wounds or happy memories and then shelving them in imaginary boxes - not gone, but no longer floating around to permeate the present moment and confuse me from who I had truly become. A sneaky thing began to happen as I completed the workbook: I was further away from dating anyone, actually, and suddenly extremely confident in my being. I would run to yoga and experiment with coming up with an empowering mantra for the class, just to see how it would change my work out. I began day dreaming about things I wanted to do with my life, big things - dreams I had stopped letting myself consider awhile back.
Being single was never the concern, and I can honestly say I was happy being unattached. But I was missing the person I had always been, who would journal all her big plans and wait for them to inevitably happen. I wanted to be with her again - a grown up, more capable version of her.
You know, if you've followed my blog for long enough, where this story leads: one day, while laying in savasana and desperately trying to just focus on my breathing, I decided to surrender to where my thoughts were going. I envisioned moving to Europe. I wanted to get on a plane, one-way ticket in hand, and land somewhere completely new and foreign. I wanted to expand, grow, ground myself. I wanted to see more of the world while I was only 30, unattached, and waiting for the "one" or the one after the one or the one after that - however "ones" I would encounter. I wanted to live fully, to stop fearing getting hurt and to love again. A few short months later all my bags were packed and I was on my way to Amsterdam.
Today is January 2nd, 2018. I'm visiting my family with Bruno, the Belgian football-playing, multi-lingual, kind-hearted hunk I met in Amsterdam directly after moving there, who is now my fiance. As we were organizing (read: Throwing out) things in my bedroom at my parents' house, I stumbled upon that ratty, dusty "Calling in the One"- dog-eared and scribbled in and notated and listed. As I flipped through the many pages and proverbs and paragraphs underlined twice in sharpie marker, I had to smile and read some of it to Bruno. Sometimes, the Universe delivers with two hands, even the things you aren't expecting or asking for. Maybe if I go over it all again I'll win the lottery or something -- but this time, I really think I'm good with my jackpot.
Happy New Year. Here's to all the dreams - crazy or sane, big or small- and all the many ways you choose to get you there.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
Sunday, June 11, 2017
HOMESICKNESS
It is a perfect summer day here. The nice thing, and I really mean this, about Holland's weather is that during the summer you get a little bit of everything you might want. It is rarely too hot - but somedays it is, so you get the scorchers in there that you miss from time to time if you are like me, and grew up in crazy New York, which could swing wildly between being snowy all the way through April, to suddenly being so hot out that there were warnings on the tv not to go outside. I remember those thunder storms and Tornado Watches... Ah, home.
But you won't find that here on a normal summer day. The weather here is mild, breezy, occasionally a bit too rainy but the sun always stays up until 11 from June until September. That part continues to blow my mind. (But remember there is a sacrifice in winter. Oh, vitamin D deficiency, thy art so cruel). Here you can easily spend time on the water if you want to during the summer, or you can just enjoy the blooming fields and markets, bringing in incredible produce every Saturday, and sip your gin and tonics with all the windows open.
Why am I talking about the weather??
I guess because before I go into the topic of this little chapter, I want to be clear that Holland is fantastic, and I adore it, so while you read this bear in mind that... well, we do crazy things for love, and I love the Netherlands.
I was so clingy as a child that my mother has told me on more than one occasion that she thought I would never be the one to go far from home. I remember sobbing my way through my first overnight camp experience when I was about 8 or 9. Pretty sure I got picked up early from that one, establishing myself as emotionally inferior among the other Bible-Camp-Going child badasses.
I cried when they would drop me off at ballet.
I cried all the way through ballet.
I cried on stage during my first ballet recital.
I cried when I was dropped off at school.
There were many reasons behind my middle-child fragility but ultimately, I just really loved my mom and dad, brother and sister, felt safest when they were around, and was (am) a homebody by nature. Major kudos to both my parents for royally kicking this out of me by the time I was a teenager. I learned to look forward to bible camp - and made some of the best friends of my life there. By the time I was 16, I was spending the summer at the Saratoga School of Performing Arts, playing violin with some of my favorite people in the world (to this day) and crying, this time, when it was time to leave them all.
But the yearning for travel came much later - in the middle of graduate school, when I found myself spending an entire summer in Paris, France, with one of my best friends, and truly, deeply, fell in love with Europe. I could not get enough of the sites around me. I spent full afternoons wandering Musee D'orsay, singing French melodie and embracing the countryside nearby. I learned French, or, at least, enough French to get by. I learned how to cook potatoes with bacon and throw them on top of greens and cheese I found in the tiny market next door. I drank incredible red wine from bottles costing no more than 3 euro. I sang one of the whackiest operas of my life, painted practically from head to toe in glitter and makeup, and adored every second. I do not think I have ever had a more poetic, independent experience in my whole life.
I know it is a massive cliche, but I found myself that summer. I had gone from an insecure, worried, people-pleasing little girl, the same girl who clung to her mother's leg before music lessons, to a woman who had the best days of her life wandering along the Seine completely by herself.
The dream had begun: I wanted to move back to Europe some day. I didn't know how or when, but I knew that it needed to happen, and as fate (and about 7 years....) would have it, I wound up here in the Netherlands, where I now sit, where I have made an indefinite home with my love.
This time, my love is a man, and not a European capital, but do not be fooled - that is just as good.
I am happy here. The Netherlands - though, clearly, not France - are a completely different kind of beautiful, and the calm I have found in the countryside here is unmatched, truly, in any other location I have wandered.
But the one problem, or - challenge - of living this dream, is that homesickness is inevitable.
Sure, I call my family every week, talk to my sister and brother regularly thanks to Gchat and WhatsApp, and my mom and I can still talk for hours about everything as if nothing has really changed, but the absence of their presences are painful, and felt all the time. And the reality of this time in my life is that, even if I win the lottery and can somehow afford a jet to fly them here or myself there whenever I want, my parents are school teachers, and have their own lives and THEIR own mothers to see and tend to. I can't just uproot them. And I can't uproot myself constantly either. So, for now, four visits a year is the most likely possibility, and man does that feel terrifying to me sometimes.
I have always recharged at my parents' house. During the hardest of times, it was their kitchen, which I could easily get to in just about three hours from new york city by train, that heard my worries and softened the blows of hard career moments, break ups, toxic and horrible roommates, with their understanding, wisdom, and bottles of wine.
Helping my mother cook in our kitchen, singing through full requiems or symphonies from my Dad's ancient record player, and simply sitting there in my sweats, no make up and 100% me-ness has been enough to drag me out of the worst slumps. My dog's gentle support has been there since I was 18 and graduating high school (he is not a spring chicken!), and my endless stack of journals and letters between friends in my childhood room is enough of a reminder of my incredible life to bring me back to reality.
So, in a place like this, where I arrived with one suitcase of my stuff and have pretty much started from scratch on all fronts... sometimes I can feel a little bit unsure of who I am. Who I am becoming. Does it match up to the family side of my life? Will they be as happy as I am with the home Bruno and I have built in our little apartment here? Would they worry about me if they saw the amount of butter I put in my food?
But at the end of the day, it is simply faith that helps me understand the purpose. It will never be easy to be so far from home, and from the memories I built there. But it is exciting that this life is so different, and so free to be made whatever I want of it. I can choose to embrace this place, the quirky language I feel I will never master, the confusing weather patterns... and I can look forward to a day when I can show it all off to my parents. Or, I can worry every day, feel lost, and let the homesickness take over.
Or I can just accept that it will never be one or the other, and allow them both to take their place in this awesome and enlightening chapter of my life. I think I'll go for that, for now.
But you won't find that here on a normal summer day. The weather here is mild, breezy, occasionally a bit too rainy but the sun always stays up until 11 from June until September. That part continues to blow my mind. (But remember there is a sacrifice in winter. Oh, vitamin D deficiency, thy art so cruel). Here you can easily spend time on the water if you want to during the summer, or you can just enjoy the blooming fields and markets, bringing in incredible produce every Saturday, and sip your gin and tonics with all the windows open.
Why am I talking about the weather??
I guess because before I go into the topic of this little chapter, I want to be clear that Holland is fantastic, and I adore it, so while you read this bear in mind that... well, we do crazy things for love, and I love the Netherlands.
 |
| Giethoorn, Netherlands. |
I was so clingy as a child that my mother has told me on more than one occasion that she thought I would never be the one to go far from home. I remember sobbing my way through my first overnight camp experience when I was about 8 or 9. Pretty sure I got picked up early from that one, establishing myself as emotionally inferior among the other Bible-Camp-Going child badasses.
I cried when they would drop me off at ballet.
I cried all the way through ballet.
I cried on stage during my first ballet recital.
I cried when I was dropped off at school.
There were many reasons behind my middle-child fragility but ultimately, I just really loved my mom and dad, brother and sister, felt safest when they were around, and was (am) a homebody by nature. Major kudos to both my parents for royally kicking this out of me by the time I was a teenager. I learned to look forward to bible camp - and made some of the best friends of my life there. By the time I was 16, I was spending the summer at the Saratoga School of Performing Arts, playing violin with some of my favorite people in the world (to this day) and crying, this time, when it was time to leave them all.
But the yearning for travel came much later - in the middle of graduate school, when I found myself spending an entire summer in Paris, France, with one of my best friends, and truly, deeply, fell in love with Europe. I could not get enough of the sites around me. I spent full afternoons wandering Musee D'orsay, singing French melodie and embracing the countryside nearby. I learned French, or, at least, enough French to get by. I learned how to cook potatoes with bacon and throw them on top of greens and cheese I found in the tiny market next door. I drank incredible red wine from bottles costing no more than 3 euro. I sang one of the whackiest operas of my life, painted practically from head to toe in glitter and makeup, and adored every second. I do not think I have ever had a more poetic, independent experience in my whole life.
I know it is a massive cliche, but I found myself that summer. I had gone from an insecure, worried, people-pleasing little girl, the same girl who clung to her mother's leg before music lessons, to a woman who had the best days of her life wandering along the Seine completely by herself.
The dream had begun: I wanted to move back to Europe some day. I didn't know how or when, but I knew that it needed to happen, and as fate (and about 7 years....) would have it, I wound up here in the Netherlands, where I now sit, where I have made an indefinite home with my love.
This time, my love is a man, and not a European capital, but do not be fooled - that is just as good.
I am happy here. The Netherlands - though, clearly, not France - are a completely different kind of beautiful, and the calm I have found in the countryside here is unmatched, truly, in any other location I have wandered.
But the one problem, or - challenge - of living this dream, is that homesickness is inevitable.
Sure, I call my family every week, talk to my sister and brother regularly thanks to Gchat and WhatsApp, and my mom and I can still talk for hours about everything as if nothing has really changed, but the absence of their presences are painful, and felt all the time. And the reality of this time in my life is that, even if I win the lottery and can somehow afford a jet to fly them here or myself there whenever I want, my parents are school teachers, and have their own lives and THEIR own mothers to see and tend to. I can't just uproot them. And I can't uproot myself constantly either. So, for now, four visits a year is the most likely possibility, and man does that feel terrifying to me sometimes.
I have always recharged at my parents' house. During the hardest of times, it was their kitchen, which I could easily get to in just about three hours from new york city by train, that heard my worries and softened the blows of hard career moments, break ups, toxic and horrible roommates, with their understanding, wisdom, and bottles of wine.
Helping my mother cook in our kitchen, singing through full requiems or symphonies from my Dad's ancient record player, and simply sitting there in my sweats, no make up and 100% me-ness has been enough to drag me out of the worst slumps. My dog's gentle support has been there since I was 18 and graduating high school (he is not a spring chicken!), and my endless stack of journals and letters between friends in my childhood room is enough of a reminder of my incredible life to bring me back to reality.
So, in a place like this, where I arrived with one suitcase of my stuff and have pretty much started from scratch on all fronts... sometimes I can feel a little bit unsure of who I am. Who I am becoming. Does it match up to the family side of my life? Will they be as happy as I am with the home Bruno and I have built in our little apartment here? Would they worry about me if they saw the amount of butter I put in my food?
But at the end of the day, it is simply faith that helps me understand the purpose. It will never be easy to be so far from home, and from the memories I built there. But it is exciting that this life is so different, and so free to be made whatever I want of it. I can choose to embrace this place, the quirky language I feel I will never master, the confusing weather patterns... and I can look forward to a day when I can show it all off to my parents. Or, I can worry every day, feel lost, and let the homesickness take over.
Or I can just accept that it will never be one or the other, and allow them both to take their place in this awesome and enlightening chapter of my life. I think I'll go for that, for now.
Sunday, January 1, 2017
CLAIMING 2017
I use that word, "home", to describe a number of places in my life. By some stroke of luck I have finally learned that, no matter how foreign I feel in it still, one of those homes is the Netherlands. In the last approximately 10 years, I've rented apartments, single to triple, decorated, maintained, and tailored to also feel like "home." Yet nothing quite matches the complete relief of being back at the Norman residence, where it all began: failures, losses, grief at times, serious illnesses, and also - not to be forgotten - triumphs and celebrations to match it all. My dog, a blind and almost-deaf yellow lab now aged almost 14 years, has a whiter face than I remember, but still wedges himself by my legs with his tail slowly wagging as if we were both 10 years younger again.
The one prevailing thought I found myself waking up to today, the first day in the new year, was: I'm doing just fine.
For so many years, I was, honestly, not. I was weighed down by unhealthy relationships, with friends, family, co-workers, roommates, but most importantly myself. I was plagued by a seemingly constant guilt from everywhere across the board: my student loans and subsequent financial inadequacy, my inability to be good enough in any job and on the flip side- the successes I found in traveling or in performing, which inevitably felt like things I should apologize for (for some god forsaken reason I'm still trying to figure out). I found myself doing that - apologizing - constantly, endlessly, for things no one should, especially if they are trying to make a life they are proud of (and avoid being walked completely over). I would see the way others were suffering and begin sacrificing what I really wanted in this world for hoping to be liked and accepted. In short, I gave up me for them - all of them. Whomever they even were. The result was a feeling of loneliness like none other - the very thing I thought I would be avoiding.
So, while waking up on January 1st thinking "I'm fine" may seem pretty lame considering I lead a happy life and had many blessings to count when I cheered for the new year with my family last night... it was actually one of the bigger triumphs. For the last five years, for many reasons, I would wake up worried. I would think over the bank statements. The harsh words spoken with a friend or colleague. The threat to my job security. An upcoming audition. Or, I would wake up feeling lost without any idea why. Seeing exactly what I did not want from my life transformed the entire landscape, however, and led me to now.
I concluded 2016 with a resolution never to wake up unsure again. Here are the rest of my resolutions, and I hope you'll do them with me:
- It begins with work. Work I love to do, not necessarily what others want me to do. It may not always be convenient, easy or fun. But it will be what I do because I'm called to it and it fills me with purpose, and it will be prioritized. After years of always saying yes to things I wasn't completely passionate or sure of, I'm the most nervous for this one, but also ready.
- I will learn to stop apologizing. I am clumsy. I am the girl who crashes into things or drops things or spills. I am learning a new language, so I misspeak at times, or struggle with being clear. I make mistakes, sometimes need to take space from others and don't always make the right jokes. These things will all continue to happen, no matter how hard I'll try to fit the expectations of others, but on that note...
- I will stop trying to be what others want me to be. I am not yet a mother. I am not yet fluent in Dutch. I am not always grounded, zen or profound. Sometimes I'm average, and that's the best I can be that day. One day, dammit, I will learn how to do laundry without losing half of the socks. But this year might not be the year for that.
- I will volunteer more, because while my work is not for free, the desire to help others certainly is and should be utilized. It is not enough just to say I'm there and concerned about worldly matters - I will get over my shyness or stage fright and put some elbow grease into it from now on.
- I will make my health, exercise, and time a priority. No matter what. I will ignore the unhealthy influence that is my inner Julie nudging me towards the box of chocolates, bottle of wine, or extra hour of Netflix when it is already 11PM.
- To be every single women's catalog cliche (and about two years late to the party): I will say NO. I'll say yes to the golden opportunities that arise (auditions for productions I know I want to sing in, travel experiences, blogging, getting more creative with youtube, whatever fits the bill), and NO to the things that I know deep down I do not want to do, no matter what price is on them, and I will stand my ground.
- I will speak more Dutch. (<-gonna hate this one in a few days when I'm jetlagged back in Amsterdam).
This list will undoubtedly be added to and changed, but there you have it.
Happy New Year.
Thursday, November 10, 2016
TRUMP.
Yesterday was (beyond) a weird day for me.
It began the way I expected if I'm honest: I woke up before my alarm went off at 7AM. I scrolled through the notifications on my phone. I had almost no reaction as I read, without the exact details to back up what I knew just by glancing, the "Oh God. Please, God. No." Statuses. The sob emojis. The ".... You are *bleeping* kidding me." And then, from my trader friends attempting to make sense of the news and the immediate global economic turmoil, "WTF did you DO, America?!?!"
I read through them all. Facebook has conveniently filtered all of my newsfeed to omit absolutely any and all Trump-supporter statuses (something I am grateful for, in my need for self-protection). I shook my head a lot. I paced back and forth in my pajamas and slippers discussing with Bruno what this could mean for the next four + years. I mean, sure, I have the option to stay in Europe for at least 5 years at the moment, but I am an American, with deeply American roots, and my family is there. I have always wanted the option of confidently returning to my country without wondering what swift and unfriendly changes are in store for me, my partner and any subsequent family I bring back with me. That option has dimmed significantly in the wake of the past 48 hours.
These are not dramatic things to wonder about at this point. History has shown the way these current trends tend to go down. There's a perfectly understandable reason people are having straight up panic attacks in the States right now. But, I'm not going to convince my cousins and friends who voted for Trump to see reason. I'm done quoting his boasting about grabbing women inappropriately. I just wonder how ANY of my Christian friends could see this man as a worthy leader. We really aren't discussing Hillary anymore -- this is a sinful, disgusting, dangerous man and people I respect and love unconditionally voted him in. That is the fact that I am struggling to understand. And these same people have been chuckling and bragging and jeering about this without taking into account how freaking terrified we are -- and for good reason.
But I decided to calm down somewhere around 11AM yesterday when I realized that the world is continuing to turn, regardless of this outcome. I went to work. I had to go to the bank, handle paperwork regarding my Visa, email many of my wonderful friends and colleagues here.
I practiced music. I studied for my Dutch class in Amstelveen. With each vocabulary word and grammar lesson, I felt a knot releasing in the pit of my stomach. I took some deep breaths and turned off my facebook notifications (something, let's face it, all of us needs to do this week.)
I ended the evening at a football stadium watching the Netherlands and Belgium duke it out in a friendly game, shivering in my jacket and scarf next to Bruno and waving a Dutch flag while donning a Belgian scarf (my loyalties are a little bit mixed over here guys...) I watched the pride around me, the unbelievable excitement and joy and support. I kept thinking about my home country and how strange it is that they are so torn right now. So many of you are spewing hate because you have full reign to now. Because you feel you have something to prove. So many of you are burning American flags and insulting each others' education levels.
Where does that get anyone? And look, I'm just as guilty. I posted several things out of anger and frustration that would undoubtedly offend Trump supporters. It's just that I don't understand voting for a man like this. I would honestly love to hear why people did this. We all are stuck with him now, so fill me in, please.
But judging by the belligerence I keep seeing from the Trump supporters I DO know, I won't like what I hear. I don't understand hating on a single race of human being at this point in our evolution. I don't understand telling someone that he or she should not be allowed to marry whomever their heart desires. I don't understand taking away a woman's right to choose what to do with her body. Trump HAS threatened these things. It isn't media gossip. He has said these words. But it seems like everyone who supports him has nothing to say about these enormous issues. Clearly, I do not understand those that support this person, and I'm unlikely to no matter what they explain to me.
But I know that burning flags, staining walls with Swastikas and cursing each other out on facebook walls is only going to bring devastation to everyone, and my anger and frustration does nothing to help.
So, I have to focus back on my present right now. Tonight I am grateful for Holland. For peace, and a port in the storm. For the number of people who chuckled kindly to me yesterday and patted me on the back. To the man at the bank who recognized my urgency when I asked for help figuring out a detail to my Visa so I can work in the Netherlands more this coming year. I am grateful to the family I have here.
I have no clue what is in store for my future as an Expat, a woman, and an American citizen. Right now it feels uncertain and more than a little terrifying. But all any of us can do right now is take stock of where we are right this minute, who we are with, and what we plan to do about it.
Monday, October 31, 2016
WHAT SCARES YOU?
Halloween always draws my attention in to many abnormal facets of life: horror films, haunted houses, ghosts (although I definitely ponder the existence of spirits in my regular life, I admit), and fear in general. I find it kind of fantastic that we have a holiday on this planet dedicated - as it was so intended in the beginning or not - to scaring ourselves and others. We willingly sit down to watch films that make us jump out of our skin and sleep with a light on. We feel entertained by painting ourselves into walking gremlins and zombies, or feeling our way through pitch-dark haunted houses where costumed actors jump out at us and make us shriek.
Or.... some of us do that - I used to, but have grown into one big fat wuss in my recent years.
Still, a focus of the holiday is on the things that we technically spend a lot of time shunning. We embrace the ghosts, demons, and evil forces that make us shiver and hide and stare them right in the eyes, wanting to see what else they will reveal to us. I'm sure there is a whole sociological school of thought behind this (one of them being that Hallmark is a brilliantly successful company), but I think it goes back to something primal: survival. Instinct. Growth.
When I was a kid, I loved nothing more than telling scary stories around campfires during the summer. I loved this, and I don't know why because I was the first one to knock on my parents' door at 3 in the morning, scared crapless by whatever story someone had just told about an old witch who pickled peoples' fingers and would come tickle you with them in the middle of the night. (Psh, a whole lot of inappropriate in THAT story, told to me when I was 6....)
That hasn't changed a lot as I've grown - but the stories have changed a lot. The scary stories have more to do with things that scare us as adults. My Student Loan payments. What will happen to me as I get older if I don't go after _____ dream. If that person who hurt me in the past could ever somehow hurt me again. If my relationships are strong. If I am a good person. I find myself talking about fears pretty much every day, in one form or another. But the talks aren't nearly as fun as they were when the topics were possessed Jack-o-lanterns. I don't laugh about them the way I used to when I was little, telling the ghastly tales from my 'Goosebumps' collection, which was extensive.
No, instead, I shake. I quiver. I try to feign confidence and I find myself all but freaking out internally. "No but, really, what if they don't like me? What if I fail?" The more I talk over the fears, the stronger they feel - as if they are drawn into the presence of the room, and made a reality.
Obviously I am exaggerating this to illustrate a point. That point being - why do we do this? Why do we make our fears, which are unlikely to take shape and arguably (often) just as ridiculous and far-fetched as the "Paranormal Activity" script? What would happen if we told the stories the way we did around campfires, rather than the way we would in a business meeting, going over every last potential detail? What if we (gasp) laughed at our fears the same way, instead of letting them come alive in the moment?
I will admit that a lot of my life has been dampened by fear. I know I'm not alone. But, it is my mission to embrace the fears, look at them for entertainment value, laugh with most of them (because mine can be nothing short of silly), and even enjoy them as I watch them rise up and fade away.
So this Halloween, I go forth turning my insecurities about myself as a human into campfire stories, told with a flashlight under my face, and over-dramatized to make the crowd gasp. But that is as far as they will go, and the serious conversations will be reserved for the goodness that is my reality.
I hope you will join me....
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Amsterdam Half Marathon!
OKAY
I know there is an immense culture out there of people who just casually run half marathons, marathons and triathlons like it's normal. It's not. But I have great respect for all of you crazy people.
This weekend was the annual Mizuno Amsterdam Half Marathon 2016, as well as the full Amsterdam Marathon and I think a 10K that took place ... that same day.
This meant that Amsterdam became as crowded and crazy as a normal afternoon would be in New York City. In Netherlands-terms that means it was I.N.T.E.N.S.E.
I had prepared for several months before this event, but still, truthfully, did not feel very ready for it on the day of. The reason I decided to go for it goes back to March of this year, when I realized I was regularly running 10km + every time I would go out for a jog. I was stressed out, homesick, and overwhelmed at the time, and there was something about running and just going until I ran out of time on my afternoon breaks that felt unbelievably therapeutic. I have been a regular runner for years now, but running long distances was something completely new.
Years before, I rode in the Ride for Missing Children, a charity I am absolutely crazy about that takes place in New York State every fall. That was a 100-mile bike ride that I did with my Dad back in 2013, and adored every mile of. But since then, most of my sports events have been private training or running in 5Ks here and there - and one back in January with Bruno, Nike, and Kevin Hart. So, although I've been active and I don't think I've gone more than a week or two without training my body in some ways, running 13 miles was a much bigger challenge to me.
Anyway, Bruno encouraged me to join him for the half marathon back in July, and I signed up thinking "Why not!??! I can totally do that!" Since it was many months ahead of time, I had relentless confidence in my capabilities and planned all of the pizza and beer we would have in celebration already. We spent the summer going for runs with each other and also in the States with my family (he fared much better than I did in that heat and with the elevation. Holy crap, the Netherlands are flat.) Then, about two weeks ago, we ran about 15 kilometers to prepare.
In total I would say my training was: one very long run a week (maybe twice, depending on various factors such as time, health, energy levels, how angry I was about something that day, and so on...), usually 10K or more. Then a shorter run (5-7K) 2 or 3 times a week around that. I would stretch as much as I could think of, and had the worst kind of appetite ever. I couldn't stop eating. I mean that.
Two days before the main event, on Friday, I started drinking as much water and coconut water I could get my hands on. I did not stop hydrating. I went to pick up my bib and Bruno's, checked us in (something I didn't even know we could do. That was cool). And took a 2 mile walk through Amsterdam.
The night before, we ate pasta with chicken and broccoli, and attempted to get lots of shuteye... only to find out around 10:30 that we, and Bruno's upstairs neighbor, were all locked IN to the apartment building.
... And so began the most annoying chaos of all time.
Quick Back story: Bruno lives in a neighborhood that is surrounded by small shops, and not many apartment buildings. His apartment and his neighbors' are built just above a line of shops, and we have to access his apartment building through an alleyway behind these stores, until you reach the main door. The alley is often filled with random stuff, tons of bikes (there are bars around too, and I have a suspicion people just tuck their bikes away in there because it's easiest), and random odds and ends from the stores next to us. There is a main door you must unlock, go up the stairwell, and then you're at Bruno's door to his place. It doesn't feel unsafe, however there have been some strange theft issues (bikes going missing) in that alleyway, and we noticed someone seemed to be hacking at the sides of the main door and tampering with the lock. So, a door further into the alley way was put back in use, a lock was built for it, and we automatically had an extra level of security.
Then, ten days later (on Saturday night), that extra lock broke. None of us could unlock it with our keys no matter what we did. We threw ourselves at the door, called for help, and then waited about three hours until the Emergency Locksmith arrived to drill out the lock and set us free. That was at 1:30AM. He charged Bruno an arm and a leg and we angrily went to sleep by 2AM. We will never use that door or lock again, since there is an obvious fire hazard and, well, it didn't work out for us in the end anyway. TO PUT IT MILDLY.
The next morning, I was amazed when Bruno enthusiastically woke me, unable to hide his excitement about the half marathon and pumping me up. He hauled my grumbling butt out of bed, we made banana pancakes, and away we went to the Olympic Stadium to show off our Forrest Gump skillz!
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| Made these from scratch! I will link this recipe soon! |
This was overwhelming. I was nervous. I was excited. It was warm, and sunny, and SO CROWDED. I am 5' tall, and the average Dutch person is about 6' (THE AVERAGE DUTCH PERSON), so mostly I saw butts and backs and elbows until we were finally off.
The best part of the run was by far the first 10 kilometres. Every few minutes we passed another silly-costumed DJ blasting music at us, pumped our fists in the air and cheered and kept on running. Bruno and I were in the Green section, which was supposed to be a 6 minute Km. He can easily make this time or faster when he runs, but I generally run about 6.5 / km, so I was a little nervous to be there. But the adrenaline and music meant that I started booking it way faster than I should have, and we were running at about 5:15-5:30 per kilometre for the first 10K.
At about 12K, though, I started to get tired. We had hydrated like crazy ahead of time, and they had cups of water and gatorade, as well as bites of power bars to grab, every 5K or so... but I noticed the music stopped and we were just... running. For a realllyyyyy long time, it felt like. And uphill, which I was not expecting. But okay, what's another 9K when you're used to running 15K for long runs?? I was enjoying the sun, the views, the cheers from the crowd and the bleeping noises that would happen every time we ran past the scanners that took our bib numbers (this way, my Mom at home could actually SEE my and Bruno's times every time it scanned us!) I was tired, but we kept going, and I was bound and determined to make it at least to 16 before I would stop for any reason.
So, we made it to 15K, at which point I felt sure I was going to collapse. My time had slowed down, but we were still running, and I got a burst of adrenaline when I realized we only had 6 K to go, which was a typical short run for me. I had to laugh when we went past a spectator who had made a sign that read "Bet it feels like 6 months to you!"
...Yes. Yes it did.
We made it to the last 3 K, and the route went into Vondelpark at this point. Bruno had told me before we started that by the time we got to Vondelpark, we were basically done with the run as it is so close to the Finish line. But let me tell you this: by this point, even 1 kilometer felt impossible to me. I suddenly turned into the raging version of myself, angry that it was taking so damn long for one kilometer to end and that this whole freaking run is uphill!!!!!
Bruno would cheer me on: "You're amazing!! Give me a high five!! You are going to complete it!" And I would scream back at him "STOP IT, WE AREN'T DONE YET, THIS IS NEVER ENDING, MAKE IT STOP!!!!" I then tried to walk, in my delirious state, and he did not let me. I'm not sure how he talked me off of that ledge, but he did, and I kept going, hating the world, my body and everyone around me.
I will note that at this point in the run, many many people were going down. I was shocked to see this, because you don't often hear about it, but there were several people around us who were way beyond their capacity and could not handle the stress anymore. One man collapsed on the side of the road beside Bruno, and when Bruno helped him up the look on his face was one of blank confusion. I hope he stopped the run at that point - it is never worth hurting yourself to cross a finish line.
I realized that I was doing okay, my breathing was fine and even though my legs were killing me, it was not that bad and 1 KM was too short a distance for me to walk unless I absolutely had to. So, we finished, crossed the finish line, and I burst into hysterical laughter and immediate apologies for all the angry I had thrown at Bruno for the last laps. We finished with:
21.60 Kilometers
TIME : 2 hours and 18 minutes.
(My original goal was to finish in 2 hours 30!)
It was a great feeling, and a very cool accomplishment, and then we limped our way home with our medals, bananas and gatorade and stuffed our faces in pajamas on the couch.
I will say, I look forward to doing it again next year mainly for the psychological aspect of it all, as well as the awareness of how important it is to truly pace yourself. I think I would have enjoyed the run much, much more if I had taken more time in the beginning 10 Km, but I was so excited and adrenaline-fueled at the time that it just didn't work like that this time.
There is a huge difference, once completing 21 Km, because now that number is not as scary to me and I honestly think if I train the same way next year, I could get a better time. But for now, I plan to do yoga, nap a lot, and avoid running altogether for at least the rest of this month.
 |
| Yay!!! :) |
Thank you to all of you who supported the day of, and who inspire me to live a fit, active life, and of course as always to Bruno, who is the ultimate coach and the best team mate I could ever ask for in life.
Monday, October 10, 2016
Ways to Relax.
This blog takes on a tone of its own depending on what my life is doing, I've noticed, so I figured I might as well roll with the way life is right now and post about something very near and dear to my heart:
Stress has shown up in my life in many different ways: First and foremost, insomnia. If there is something on my mind, I will lie awake and toss and turn as if I just drank three espressos. From insomnia (and lowered immunity due to the stress itself), I will catch a cold. Depending on my level of stress and exhaustion, that cold can sometimes linger for weeks or turn into something much worse.
I would not by any means describe my life in Amsterdam as stressful, however events do arise no matter where I am in the world that impact me like anyone else. In January, my grandfather passed away on my birthday, which was painful enough to deal with while living so far from my family. Then, in the immediate weeks and months following, I went through a stressful and aggravating (annoying) personal issue with someone in my life at the time that made me feel powerless, insecure and overall miserable. I had a very difficult time sleeping and developed a chest cold that lasted weeks, made me lose my voice, and eventually led to my being out of the game for over a month. There is a lesson to be learned here, big time: life should never have to be put on hold due to stress.
So during that time, I decided to learn how to protect myself from the toxic energy that can arise as a result of these circumstances. In my opinion (and experience), it is a choice to let ourselves lean into the negativity. But sometimes we're just too damn exhausted or overwhelmed by the issues at hand to combat them with our otherwise badass mentalities.
Since I was in Europe, I decided to stop laying in bed feeling sick all the time, and I got out there. I spent a weekend taking care of myself - whatever that meant to me at the time - and ignoring my cell phone, my worries, and the list of things I "should get to." I had the apartment to myself, a rare thing, and I hopped on the tram with my ear buds in, setting out into the center of Amsterdam without much of a plan except to enjoy myself. I wandered to Museumplein where the Rijksmuseum and Van Goh Museum are, and then headed towards Spui - an area filled with shopping, coffee shops, cafes (there's a big difference here, by the way), and grabbed some coffee while I wandered. I wound up heading home with a couple of Lush "Bath Bombs", a bottle of wine, some veggies from Albert Heijn and a plan to fully relax that evening. By the end of the weekend I had pampered, Netflix'd, and cooked myself into a completely different human and I was ready to hit the ground running the very next week with a new lease on life.
I made it my mission after that dark winter month to find ways, no matter what, of keeping myself grounded and removed from stress and anxiety. I was seeing the negative impact that had on my overall wellbeing. I saw the repercussions in my interactions with the humans in my life - both big and tiny (I babysit for my friends' kids every week). I watched my energy decline in my runs, yoga sessions, and especially in my singing. In the past, being busy (and even stressed) was always something people bragged about when they were supposedly doing really well in their ambitions. But I realized that, for me, this significantly cut down my productivity and made me a pretty pathetic human being. So, no more.
And, if I still have your attention, here are some of my standby ways of relaxing - no matter how stressful life gets:
Do Not Try To Figure It Out Right Now.
This may be controversial - but it works for me, so I'm going to put it down in the first spot.
Whenever stress hits - be it due to some crisis in your life, a build up of way too many things going on, a personal relationship giving you grief or financial struggle (or all of the above) - we tend to want to fix it immediately. At least, I do. I want to find solutions, resolve everything, understand what went wrong, basically dissect the crap out of what is happening instead of waiting for solutions to pop up.
On one hand, this is a good thing. It's never great to be complacent and allow unhealthy situations to perpetuate themselves in our lives. Being action-oriented has never failed me. But sometimes, the solution just isn't available immediately and trying to put out every single fire is not possible. Focusing in on all of the things going wrong is going to undermine your confidence, potential to find the right solution, rather than just the quickest, and can build up longterm depression.
So, just for a day or two, (unless there is a life-or-death situation on the line), give it a rest. You do not have to break up with that person immediately if you are feeling on the fence and confused - and frankly, you shouldn't if you are in that state anyway. You do not need to apply for a loan at the bank this very second if you're not sure of all the numbers and figures. You can decide to quit your job next week. Or, you can meet with your boss when you're in a better mindset to go over what is going wrong at your job tomorrow. But today, just temporarily, stop the thoughts from flowing. Do whatever it takes to find a release from the worries. Turn off your cell phone. Meditate. Go for a run or to a yoga class. Decide to go to bed three hours earlier. Cancel any plans with others (unless seeing people will help distract you from your worries for a little while). Whatever will help you let go, do it. (Without going overboard or harming yourself with drugs and alcohol).
Clean (or meditate).
Again, this is my list. So just go with it, please. ;)
All my life (or, the last three years), I have tried to meditate as often as I can remember to. I see an immediate difference if I do - the fog lifts, I feel grounded in my body, and I generally find it easier to pick apart the negative thoughts from the positive ones and clear up whatever is bothering me much faster. But to be completely honest with you: It's not my favorite way to calm down. When I'm at 9 on a scale of 1-10 (10 being my head is exploding), it's very hard for me to find the quiet within myself to shrink down to a 3 or 4. I still have that restless energy. I still need to do something.
I have often said that the state of my room reflects the inside of my head. So, I clean. I will get every rag we have out, with all of our cleaning products. I will toss clutter into trash bags, take every item off of table tops and other various surfaces, and wipe them down, scrubbing at any stubborn spots. Any dish not inside a cupboard or the dishwasher will be tackled with a sponge and dish soap until it is put safely home again. I'll do all my laundry and vacuum and mop the floors. This becomes meditative for me: I put on music (usually instrumental), and focus on the previously cluttered or messy spaces now clearing up - each item of clothing, paper or dish being removed and placed somewhere better. As I do this, I not only begin to feel calmer, but I also feel re-energized to get back to work the next day, waking up in a house that is organized, cleaned from top to bottom and ready for my work mode.
Honestly, this ritual just makes me feel like an adult again. Like I have my ish together, and don't need to be stressed about any additional challenges in my life. In the end, I'll usually light a candle or go buy a blanket to throw on my bed and sink into the relief of the new home. While being clean in general is normal, going through the house like this is a different practice, and one I use as often as I can.
Write.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that I use this one the most. It helps, but there is a caveat: Know when to stop writing about the problems you are facing.
I use this in a variety of ways. I have many drafts in these bloggers (I have two accounts, as you may have noticed from my page if you were curious enough to look that far :) ), most of which I do not ever post. I sit down to type whatever strikes me once or twice a day when I have a break to drink some tea and answer emails. It has become a therapeutic practice unlike any other. Sometimes, I will glance back over the drafts and pull one up, edit it for public use, and post it here. But most of the time, Blogger is a place for me to dump ideas, thoughts, or worries.
Then, there is the "real" writing: by hand, on whatever paper I can get in the moment. This method is used for those times when I cannot get a thought out of my head and need to physically take it and put it down and forget about it. Whenever I've had worries about things I just simply cannot control, this has worked best. Left a message for my boss about something that needed help asap, and haven't heard back yet? Let it go. Use real writing as your practical technique for handling a situation.
My favorite thing to do when faced with a major issue in life is to make a 'Solution Map'. This works as follows:
Top of the page: The Problem. (Example: "I can't find a job.") Circle your problem so that it is surrounded by a bubble (a thought bubble, if you will), then draw about 5-10 lines downward. Beneath each of those vertical lines, write a possible solution to the main problem. (Such as: "Contact three professionals I know today who can help me get a leg up" or "Update Linkedin and bookmark positions I am interested in", etc. ) Encircle those with bubbles, too. Then from each of those, more vertical lines. These are your Action Items. (For instance: Under "Contact three professionals I know..." you can write their names and email addresses and a time you will email them that day, to hold yourself accountable.)
This starts to show you what your next steps are to conquering your problem, or - as frustrating as it may be - it will show you if you simply don't have control of this one, and the only real Action Item is to wait. For me, it gives permission to let go when I otherwise want to control, change, and impact the result. Sometimes I can't. Sometimes it takes going to the effort of mapping out whatever is possible before I come to that conclusion. No matter what, if I do this, I start to feel better.
Back to the earlier point: with journaling- both online and by hand- there comes a point where you need to stop focusing on the problems. You perpetuate your own reality as much as you want to. If you're unhappy about the same thing and keep writing or talking about it, it is going to stay put as a worry in your life. That can make it very hard to move on. A good way to go is to simply write it down and decide that it is out of your hands, except for the action items you have given yourself. If it's an emotional issue, you decide how much processing time you want to give it. Try to keep it moving rather than rooted in the same cycle. You should be able to look back at your writing and see progression and growth, rather than be dragged back into darkness.
Move.
For me, moving means getting my butt out there - running by the river, or jumping on the tram to the center of Amsterdam to see some canals and grab some street food and a coffee and shake myself out of my own funk.
On the rarest of rare occasions, moving meant literally moving. I was unhappy where I was living, or in the job I was in, and felt like I absolutely had to leave in order to get out of that negativity. I didn't do this until I had vetted all other options (using the above method of Solution Mapping), but at least one of my major moves in life (moving to New York City after Graduate School, for instance), came from this. I was ready to move on and start a new chapter.
On a smaller scale, however, moving can be something as simple as packing up and going to a new apartment or neighborhood in the town you live in. It can be similar to "Clean", above, where you take all of your items and move them to new homes in your house - or outdoors.
As a travel lover, with extreme wanderlust, TRAVELING always seems to do the trick. Living in Europe is the best place for me, because the fact that I can hop on a train and spend an afternoon in Lille, France, is pretty amazing to me and helps me get a whole new perspective on life. It doesn't have to even be that far; your own State or town has sights to see. Go for a hike in woods nearby. Take a 20 minute jog. Drive across town, making sure to blast the right music and go by places you like to see. Find a way to inspire yourself and get out of your rut. It's a choice - stay rooted, or move. I almost always pick move.
Make Over.
This is really dependent on you and whatever way you lean. For some, this can be a typical makeover - getting a facial and doing your nails, buying new clothes, whatever you can think of.
For me, this usually is more of a spiritual practice. Whenever I feel a lot of negative energy, I know there is something out of whack in me. Either something major has happened to cause it, or I'm not taking care of myself a certain way. I'm not taking the time to adapt and change to the current environment, and I am looking at the past with longing. I've been thinking a lot lately about a quote I heard (and cannot remember where) that goes "Adapt or die." It was probably in regards to evolution - how we, as a species, need to adapt to the new conditions of our planet or risk dying out. I believe this applies to our evolution on personal levels as well.
How much of your stress is learned, for instance? Are you really scared about having enough money, or are you getting by just fine and allowing your nerves to be frayed over your budget because it is a habit you've perpetuated through the years? Were your parents so obsessed with making enough money while you were growing up, that being nervous about finances was the norm and therefore being calm about it is not something that comes naturally to you?
Did you know that it can become something you're relaxed about, rather than scared or anxious? Because that is a choice. No one is putting you in handcuffs. You have a roof over your head. You have the internet in some form, because you are reading this. You can change this side of yourself.
For years, I have let myself be controlled in some way by everyones' opinion of me. At work, especially as a musician, this dictated what I did from one day to the next. I would select the pieces of music I believed would impress others, even if I didn't particularly like singing them. I would spend 12 hours checking emails and attempting to put fires out left and right on the job, even if I was the only one really noticing my work - and was not actually making progress anywhere (especially not in my own sanity). I would always try to hang on to what I had learned was expected of me, rather than growing in an honest way - allowing myself to adapt and change as some circumstances no longer worked for me. The result was - you guessed it - utter failure, and me crumpled up in my bed wondering why I couldn't get anywhere in my life. (This is an overdramatization. But you get the gist).
Maybe I don't sing the way I did when I was 28 anymore. That's okay, because I don't want to be that person anymore either. I'm different. I've learned new languages, new repertoire and new and interesting pieces of music. I've walked in new lands and met new faces. Maybe I don't look the same as I did then. Maybe I can't eat the same foods, or budget my time in exactly the same way. Maybe I am just different now, and I can resist that, or I can evolve.
I think that, by the age of 30, most of us are a combination of habits we developed in our upbringing and school (and work), and the other side of us that is entirely genuine and unique, always open to what comes next. THAT is the side I think needs more attention. Half the time, when I am very stressed about a particular subject in my life, I come to the conclusion that I'm worried about it mainly because it's an area I have always reacted to in stress, without knowing why exactly. A bear is not usually chasing me down the street, so my stress reaction isn't (most of the time) a protective response to my environment, saving me from dire straits or imminent danger.
So how does this have to do with a "makeover"? Simple, really: You've always whined about not having a boyfriend? So, stop. Decide right now that you're going to enjoy what you have, keep trying to live the good life you are living and put yourself out there. And if you meet someone amazing and fall in love, awesome. And if you don't, at least you're not like everyone else, stressing about having a boyfriend. You're making something of your life, which is, by the way, going to run with or without a man by your side.
If you're scared about finances, you're unlikely to actually make any moves towards improving it. So, find a way to make over your outlook. Stop getting scared, start getting motivated, and look for ways you are wealthy already. They're there - you're just too busy looking at what you do not have.
Obviously I'm not saying that you cannot react to real problems in life with stress and worry; but life is always changing and evolving. It will never stop doing so. You can get a lot further riding the wave than fighting it in the undertow.
These are (some) ways I find work for me, and there are hundreds more that come with the territory. If you've read them all, hope they help a little. Happy relaxing.
Chillin the *bleep* out.
Stress has shown up in my life in many different ways: First and foremost, insomnia. If there is something on my mind, I will lie awake and toss and turn as if I just drank three espressos. From insomnia (and lowered immunity due to the stress itself), I will catch a cold. Depending on my level of stress and exhaustion, that cold can sometimes linger for weeks or turn into something much worse.
I would not by any means describe my life in Amsterdam as stressful, however events do arise no matter where I am in the world that impact me like anyone else. In January, my grandfather passed away on my birthday, which was painful enough to deal with while living so far from my family. Then, in the immediate weeks and months following, I went through a stressful and aggravating (annoying) personal issue with someone in my life at the time that made me feel powerless, insecure and overall miserable. I had a very difficult time sleeping and developed a chest cold that lasted weeks, made me lose my voice, and eventually led to my being out of the game for over a month. There is a lesson to be learned here, big time: life should never have to be put on hold due to stress.
So during that time, I decided to learn how to protect myself from the toxic energy that can arise as a result of these circumstances. In my opinion (and experience), it is a choice to let ourselves lean into the negativity. But sometimes we're just too damn exhausted or overwhelmed by the issues at hand to combat them with our otherwise badass mentalities.
Since I was in Europe, I decided to stop laying in bed feeling sick all the time, and I got out there. I spent a weekend taking care of myself - whatever that meant to me at the time - and ignoring my cell phone, my worries, and the list of things I "should get to." I had the apartment to myself, a rare thing, and I hopped on the tram with my ear buds in, setting out into the center of Amsterdam without much of a plan except to enjoy myself. I wandered to Museumplein where the Rijksmuseum and Van Goh Museum are, and then headed towards Spui - an area filled with shopping, coffee shops, cafes (there's a big difference here, by the way), and grabbed some coffee while I wandered. I wound up heading home with a couple of Lush "Bath Bombs", a bottle of wine, some veggies from Albert Heijn and a plan to fully relax that evening. By the end of the weekend I had pampered, Netflix'd, and cooked myself into a completely different human and I was ready to hit the ground running the very next week with a new lease on life.
I made it my mission after that dark winter month to find ways, no matter what, of keeping myself grounded and removed from stress and anxiety. I was seeing the negative impact that had on my overall wellbeing. I saw the repercussions in my interactions with the humans in my life - both big and tiny (I babysit for my friends' kids every week). I watched my energy decline in my runs, yoga sessions, and especially in my singing. In the past, being busy (and even stressed) was always something people bragged about when they were supposedly doing really well in their ambitions. But I realized that, for me, this significantly cut down my productivity and made me a pretty pathetic human being. So, no more.
And, if I still have your attention, here are some of my standby ways of relaxing - no matter how stressful life gets:
 |
| Pillows and Tea are not on this list, although they are a good place to begin. |
This may be controversial - but it works for me, so I'm going to put it down in the first spot.
Whenever stress hits - be it due to some crisis in your life, a build up of way too many things going on, a personal relationship giving you grief or financial struggle (or all of the above) - we tend to want to fix it immediately. At least, I do. I want to find solutions, resolve everything, understand what went wrong, basically dissect the crap out of what is happening instead of waiting for solutions to pop up.
On one hand, this is a good thing. It's never great to be complacent and allow unhealthy situations to perpetuate themselves in our lives. Being action-oriented has never failed me. But sometimes, the solution just isn't available immediately and trying to put out every single fire is not possible. Focusing in on all of the things going wrong is going to undermine your confidence, potential to find the right solution, rather than just the quickest, and can build up longterm depression.
So, just for a day or two, (unless there is a life-or-death situation on the line), give it a rest. You do not have to break up with that person immediately if you are feeling on the fence and confused - and frankly, you shouldn't if you are in that state anyway. You do not need to apply for a loan at the bank this very second if you're not sure of all the numbers and figures. You can decide to quit your job next week. Or, you can meet with your boss when you're in a better mindset to go over what is going wrong at your job tomorrow. But today, just temporarily, stop the thoughts from flowing. Do whatever it takes to find a release from the worries. Turn off your cell phone. Meditate. Go for a run or to a yoga class. Decide to go to bed three hours earlier. Cancel any plans with others (unless seeing people will help distract you from your worries for a little while). Whatever will help you let go, do it. (Without going overboard or harming yourself with drugs and alcohol).
Clean (or meditate).
Again, this is my list. So just go with it, please. ;)
All my life (or, the last three years), I have tried to meditate as often as I can remember to. I see an immediate difference if I do - the fog lifts, I feel grounded in my body, and I generally find it easier to pick apart the negative thoughts from the positive ones and clear up whatever is bothering me much faster. But to be completely honest with you: It's not my favorite way to calm down. When I'm at 9 on a scale of 1-10 (10 being my head is exploding), it's very hard for me to find the quiet within myself to shrink down to a 3 or 4. I still have that restless energy. I still need to do something.
I have often said that the state of my room reflects the inside of my head. So, I clean. I will get every rag we have out, with all of our cleaning products. I will toss clutter into trash bags, take every item off of table tops and other various surfaces, and wipe them down, scrubbing at any stubborn spots. Any dish not inside a cupboard or the dishwasher will be tackled with a sponge and dish soap until it is put safely home again. I'll do all my laundry and vacuum and mop the floors. This becomes meditative for me: I put on music (usually instrumental), and focus on the previously cluttered or messy spaces now clearing up - each item of clothing, paper or dish being removed and placed somewhere better. As I do this, I not only begin to feel calmer, but I also feel re-energized to get back to work the next day, waking up in a house that is organized, cleaned from top to bottom and ready for my work mode.
Honestly, this ritual just makes me feel like an adult again. Like I have my ish together, and don't need to be stressed about any additional challenges in my life. In the end, I'll usually light a candle or go buy a blanket to throw on my bed and sink into the relief of the new home. While being clean in general is normal, going through the house like this is a different practice, and one I use as often as I can.
Write.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that I use this one the most. It helps, but there is a caveat: Know when to stop writing about the problems you are facing.
I use this in a variety of ways. I have many drafts in these bloggers (I have two accounts, as you may have noticed from my page if you were curious enough to look that far :) ), most of which I do not ever post. I sit down to type whatever strikes me once or twice a day when I have a break to drink some tea and answer emails. It has become a therapeutic practice unlike any other. Sometimes, I will glance back over the drafts and pull one up, edit it for public use, and post it here. But most of the time, Blogger is a place for me to dump ideas, thoughts, or worries.
Then, there is the "real" writing: by hand, on whatever paper I can get in the moment. This method is used for those times when I cannot get a thought out of my head and need to physically take it and put it down and forget about it. Whenever I've had worries about things I just simply cannot control, this has worked best. Left a message for my boss about something that needed help asap, and haven't heard back yet? Let it go. Use real writing as your practical technique for handling a situation.
My favorite thing to do when faced with a major issue in life is to make a 'Solution Map'. This works as follows:
Top of the page: The Problem. (Example: "I can't find a job.") Circle your problem so that it is surrounded by a bubble (a thought bubble, if you will), then draw about 5-10 lines downward. Beneath each of those vertical lines, write a possible solution to the main problem. (Such as: "Contact three professionals I know today who can help me get a leg up" or "Update Linkedin and bookmark positions I am interested in", etc. ) Encircle those with bubbles, too. Then from each of those, more vertical lines. These are your Action Items. (For instance: Under "Contact three professionals I know..." you can write their names and email addresses and a time you will email them that day, to hold yourself accountable.)
This starts to show you what your next steps are to conquering your problem, or - as frustrating as it may be - it will show you if you simply don't have control of this one, and the only real Action Item is to wait. For me, it gives permission to let go when I otherwise want to control, change, and impact the result. Sometimes I can't. Sometimes it takes going to the effort of mapping out whatever is possible before I come to that conclusion. No matter what, if I do this, I start to feel better.
Back to the earlier point: with journaling- both online and by hand- there comes a point where you need to stop focusing on the problems. You perpetuate your own reality as much as you want to. If you're unhappy about the same thing and keep writing or talking about it, it is going to stay put as a worry in your life. That can make it very hard to move on. A good way to go is to simply write it down and decide that it is out of your hands, except for the action items you have given yourself. If it's an emotional issue, you decide how much processing time you want to give it. Try to keep it moving rather than rooted in the same cycle. You should be able to look back at your writing and see progression and growth, rather than be dragged back into darkness.
Move.
For me, moving means getting my butt out there - running by the river, or jumping on the tram to the center of Amsterdam to see some canals and grab some street food and a coffee and shake myself out of my own funk.
On the rarest of rare occasions, moving meant literally moving. I was unhappy where I was living, or in the job I was in, and felt like I absolutely had to leave in order to get out of that negativity. I didn't do this until I had vetted all other options (using the above method of Solution Mapping), but at least one of my major moves in life (moving to New York City after Graduate School, for instance), came from this. I was ready to move on and start a new chapter.
On a smaller scale, however, moving can be something as simple as packing up and going to a new apartment or neighborhood in the town you live in. It can be similar to "Clean", above, where you take all of your items and move them to new homes in your house - or outdoors.
As a travel lover, with extreme wanderlust, TRAVELING always seems to do the trick. Living in Europe is the best place for me, because the fact that I can hop on a train and spend an afternoon in Lille, France, is pretty amazing to me and helps me get a whole new perspective on life. It doesn't have to even be that far; your own State or town has sights to see. Go for a hike in woods nearby. Take a 20 minute jog. Drive across town, making sure to blast the right music and go by places you like to see. Find a way to inspire yourself and get out of your rut. It's a choice - stay rooted, or move. I almost always pick move.
Make Over.
This is really dependent on you and whatever way you lean. For some, this can be a typical makeover - getting a facial and doing your nails, buying new clothes, whatever you can think of.
For me, this usually is more of a spiritual practice. Whenever I feel a lot of negative energy, I know there is something out of whack in me. Either something major has happened to cause it, or I'm not taking care of myself a certain way. I'm not taking the time to adapt and change to the current environment, and I am looking at the past with longing. I've been thinking a lot lately about a quote I heard (and cannot remember where) that goes "Adapt or die." It was probably in regards to evolution - how we, as a species, need to adapt to the new conditions of our planet or risk dying out. I believe this applies to our evolution on personal levels as well.
How much of your stress is learned, for instance? Are you really scared about having enough money, or are you getting by just fine and allowing your nerves to be frayed over your budget because it is a habit you've perpetuated through the years? Were your parents so obsessed with making enough money while you were growing up, that being nervous about finances was the norm and therefore being calm about it is not something that comes naturally to you?
Did you know that it can become something you're relaxed about, rather than scared or anxious? Because that is a choice. No one is putting you in handcuffs. You have a roof over your head. You have the internet in some form, because you are reading this. You can change this side of yourself.
For years, I have let myself be controlled in some way by everyones' opinion of me. At work, especially as a musician, this dictated what I did from one day to the next. I would select the pieces of music I believed would impress others, even if I didn't particularly like singing them. I would spend 12 hours checking emails and attempting to put fires out left and right on the job, even if I was the only one really noticing my work - and was not actually making progress anywhere (especially not in my own sanity). I would always try to hang on to what I had learned was expected of me, rather than growing in an honest way - allowing myself to adapt and change as some circumstances no longer worked for me. The result was - you guessed it - utter failure, and me crumpled up in my bed wondering why I couldn't get anywhere in my life. (This is an overdramatization. But you get the gist).
Maybe I don't sing the way I did when I was 28 anymore. That's okay, because I don't want to be that person anymore either. I'm different. I've learned new languages, new repertoire and new and interesting pieces of music. I've walked in new lands and met new faces. Maybe I don't look the same as I did then. Maybe I can't eat the same foods, or budget my time in exactly the same way. Maybe I am just different now, and I can resist that, or I can evolve.
I think that, by the age of 30, most of us are a combination of habits we developed in our upbringing and school (and work), and the other side of us that is entirely genuine and unique, always open to what comes next. THAT is the side I think needs more attention. Half the time, when I am very stressed about a particular subject in my life, I come to the conclusion that I'm worried about it mainly because it's an area I have always reacted to in stress, without knowing why exactly. A bear is not usually chasing me down the street, so my stress reaction isn't (most of the time) a protective response to my environment, saving me from dire straits or imminent danger.
So how does this have to do with a "makeover"? Simple, really: You've always whined about not having a boyfriend? So, stop. Decide right now that you're going to enjoy what you have, keep trying to live the good life you are living and put yourself out there. And if you meet someone amazing and fall in love, awesome. And if you don't, at least you're not like everyone else, stressing about having a boyfriend. You're making something of your life, which is, by the way, going to run with or without a man by your side.
If you're scared about finances, you're unlikely to actually make any moves towards improving it. So, find a way to make over your outlook. Stop getting scared, start getting motivated, and look for ways you are wealthy already. They're there - you're just too busy looking at what you do not have.
Obviously I'm not saying that you cannot react to real problems in life with stress and worry; but life is always changing and evolving. It will never stop doing so. You can get a lot further riding the wave than fighting it in the undertow.
These are (some) ways I find work for me, and there are hundreds more that come with the territory. If you've read them all, hope they help a little. Happy relaxing.
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