Breaktime

I respect my limits

I have felt a little overwhelmed recently. Life has a natural ebb and flow but lately I have felt the panic of a rising tide of busyness and responsibility. Yesterday I was determined to buckle down and stem some of that tide by making plans to work diligently throughout the day.

Around mid-afternoon I started to feel restless and agitated. I was tired of sitting in a chair and I was frustrated with how much more work I had yet to do. I had reached my limits at that moment. I considered slogging through it but I have learned that there are times when pushing a limit can create more problems.

I took a break for some "family fun time," as one of my daughters affectionately calls it, and I felt ready to wade back into the work I had to do. I was riding my motorcycle back to the office and just as I was topping a hill and putting it into 3rd gear my clutch went loose and I could no longer shift gears. I was able to get to the bottom of the hill and then coast into a restaurant parking lot as the bike stalled out. I made a phone call for a ride and then got off the bike to take a look at things. I found that the tip of the cable that holds it into the clutch handle had popped off. Too much tension and wear had caused it to pull through the soldering holding it together. That small piece of metal wire being strained beyond the limits it could withstand brought the entire bike to a stand-still.

Just like a motorcycle there are multiple things I need in order to keep me going: sleep, nutrition, variety, connection, purpose, and emotional expression are just a few that come to mind. If I ignore my own self-care and push my limits to the point of breaking, it can shut-down the entire system. My limits are not there to hold me back, but rather to help me stay balanced and running smoothly.

What areas of your life are being stressed to the point of breaking?
If your limits are being tested how can you bring yourself back into balance?

Kiss it Better (Guest Post - Jonathan)

It is my pleasure to introduce a guest post by Jonathan Taylor. As a licensed clinical social worker he has seen the power of stories and their ability to free us, or keep us trapped in old patterns. They help make meaning from our experiences. His blog is a place where he can share some of his stories and hopefully inspire others to share theirs as well. I am grateful for his willingness to share one of those stories here.

My pain is real, it is valid, it has impacted me,

and it is a valuable avenue for me

to find the connection and meaning I seek

with those who's relationships I value the most

I have a three year old little boy, he is sweet, thoughtful, smart, and full of life. About two weeks ago, he was playing with some friends and stepped on a thumb tack. He was quickly comforted by the neighbor who's house it was and he was back to playing in no time.

He and I have a little tradition each morning- because of scheduling demands at work, a few nights a week, I am in the office past his bedtime. In the morning when he wakes up, we sit on the living room couch and he tells me about what he did the previous day. The morning after he stepped on the tack he came out of his room limping and whimpering and told me that he, "stepped on a thumb yesterday." He often tells my wife and I about little hurts or discomforts- some emotional and some physical- and the expected response is: "Can I kiss it better?"

I didn't know what had happened the night before- so I didn't know what, "I stepped on a thumb yesterday" meant, but I responded as he expected, "I'm sorry buddy, can I kiss it better?" We took care of the hurt with a kiss and his limp was miraculously gone.

As I thought about our exchange later that day, I laughed at what I perceived as some dramatization on his part- clearly his foot didn't hurt enough to legitimately warrant a limp, a kiss made it all better. Then it struck me- he didn't want help with any physical pain- he wanted acknowledgement that his pain was real and that it impacted him at one point in time.

I often tell myself, "I am over it, it doesn't hurt anymore" and I don't tell the story of my pain to anyone. I miss out on an opportunity to connect and to have my experience recognized and validated when I only share pain that I currently feel.

My pain is real, it is valid, it has impacted me, and it is a valuable avenue for me to find the connection and meaning I seek with those who's relationships I value the most.

Boston

I am making a difference by doing my part

Four days ago I was sitting in a restaurant with several of my siblings as I overheard a conversation. 

"Boston Marathon...a bomb...dead...injured..."

I looked over at the woman that had spoken and who was now peering intently at her smartphone. I felt a familiar feeling of fear mixed with despair sink into the pit of my stomach. I looked away and noticed the warm pangs of shame as I consciously insulated myself from the situation. I did not yet know the details and I was not sure I wanted to know. I could already sense where this was going. 

9/11, Columbine, Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook...

Each of them a tumultuous blend of trauma, shame, grief, anger, confusion, sorrow, worry. The only question is how bad will each of these be, how long will it last and what will be the inevitable fall out? Will it provoke six months of spiteful Facebook rants? Will partisan pundits politicize every aspect of the tragedy? Who will be blamed and what will be done to bandage the wounds and move on? Will it connect us or push us all further apart?

I felt overwhelmed, I still do. For the next few days I spent time alternating between bouts of trying to ignore what was happening and binging on the constant stream of updates available in dozens of media formats. I worried about my friends in the area. I felt selfish for not doing something. The result of my compassion and empathy in these situations in the past had left me feeling ineffectual and paralyzed.   The enormity of it all seemed insurmountable and overwhelming. People hurting, people hurting each other. 

What difference can I make?

What can I do?

I had been through this before and came out of it without any answers, just questions that left me in a state of despair. It seemed the only thing to do was to hide from it. Block it out. Disengage. Avoid the feelings. Hope that it never happens again. 

It all makes me feel so small. In a world so full of darkness and pain it is easy to succumb to the grief and lose heart, it drowns so many of us. I want to do something but I know nothing I do can fix any of this. 

Accepting that is the first step I need to take. I am not in control of it. What I can control is how I choose to respond to something that can only be adequately described as a traumatic scarring event to everyone it touches. I know what does not work. I can not hide, pretend it does not affect me to the very core, or feel defeated. 

I choose to respond by believing that what I do matters, that how I feel is worth recognizing, that the influence I have on those around me makes a difference. I can do what I can do, and that is enough. I can choose to love, show compassion, listen, be authentic, vulnerable, share my feelings and act as a witness to the journey of others wherever it takes them - especially when it takes them into the darkness. I will do my part with all those who I journey along side and trust that in so doing it will make a difference for others striving to do their part as well. We each make a difference, and that difference matters, that difference is enough, and that difference can make all of the difference for yourself and others. 

Blowing the whistle on myself

I am approaching life with patience

This afternoon my eldest daughter had soccer practice. The coach was held up in traffic so he called me and asked that I run things until he arrived. I very quickly discovered a new found level of appreciation for whistles and how difficult it is to wrangle the energy and attention of a group of six-year-old girls. 

I  had them split up and form 2 lines where one girl would pass from the corner of the goal box to a team-mate in front of the goal who would try to score. A problem with this idea was that the goal did not have a net to stop the ball and just beyond the field drops down a small hill and the grass gives way to a thickly covered area of sticker burrs. After they had kicked the ball into the weeds twice I had not yet figured out that it may not be a good idea to keep doing that. I soon discovered  that would be an oversight I would regret. 

The next attempt at the goal was kicked wide and as I rushed down the hill after the ball attempting to coral it before it reached the edge of the grass I reached forward and stumbled. As I put my hands out to brace my fall I landed right in a patch of stickers. I lifted my hands up and they were already bleeding with roughly a dozen burrs sticking out of my skin. I quickly began removing them but 3 had already broken off and lodged slivers under the skin. The coach arrived not long after than and I spent the rest of practice digging out the slivers from my hands and band-aiding the cuts. 

This is not the first situation where after I have run into a complication I ignore the potential problems and continue on with what I have decided I want to do. I falsely assume that if I am aware of the danger I can avoid it. But as is often the case once things start rolling it can easily get away from me. If I then rush in quickly in an attempt to fix things I may then find myself falling right into trouble. 

As I learn to approach situations with patience I can see when things are not working or out of my control. I will know my limits and instead of rushing in I will carefully assess each problem that arises and work through it patiently. 

Lowering the Walls

I am breaking down the walls that imprison me

Life brings to everyone painful experiences that can leave deep wounds. When I feel hurt my first reaction is to protect myself. I may build walls as an attempt to keep me safe from feeling those pains again. 

A betrayal can lead me to build a wall of suspicion and distrust of all. Disappointment may suggest I should protect myself by extinguishing hope. In the beginning I may hate those walls and feel victimized by the unfairness of my circumstances. I might then learn to accept them as necessary and begin to view the world as a cruel place. Finally I may rely on them as the only way I have learned to live. 

Instead of protection to keep out the pain the walls I build can imprison me. Even when I have been hurt I can choose how I will define the experiences that shape me. I can break the walls down that keep me from experiencing all that life has to offer.

"The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy" -- Jim Rohn

Alone in a Crowd

I am willing to reach out and be open when I need connection with others

Yesterday I had dinner with several of my siblings to indirectly celebrate one of my sister's birthday. She is not a big fan of making a big deal out of it so when one of the servers asked what occasion brought us all together (I have a lot of siblings, nieces, nephews...) he looked a bit surprised and confused when we said it was to celebrate tax day. 

I was surrounded by people I know love me for who I am, and yet I felt disconnected and alone. The isolation was not because I was sitting at the end of the table, or because I am unable to be authentic around them, but it was because I was withdrawn and unwilling to reach out. I had ample opportunity to take advantage of support and understanding but there are times when I need to take the first step in being real and asking for what I need. Being connected is not about being around people, but rather the process of willingly showing up and letting myself be seen. 

Looking back at some of my previous posts and reflecting on my journey has highlighted for me some of the key lessons I have to learn. I can see that I often have themes that continue to pop up that I need to address. I frequently have to learn the same lesson several times before it begins to sink in. I can see that recognizing my needs and being courageous enough to reach out for help when I need it is an important lesson and that I must continue to make that a part of my daily practice. Yesterday I kept to myself and lost that important opportunity to truly connect. Today I will take advantage of those opportunities and reach out for the connection I need. 

What do you need today in order to feel connected?

Owning Awesomeness

I walk my path with confidence

Once I firmly commit to the process of walking my path of authenticity and personal growth I must choose to move forward with confidence. Having goals and a hope of reaching them is made possible by a belief in myself. A belief that I am worth it, that I am enough, and that I can accomplish what I set out to do. To navigate that path will require my full efforts and a utilization of my talents to deal with the inevitable challenges I face. 

I sometimes find it hard to be confident in myself. I think part of my difficulty is not wanting to be perceived as arrogant or prideful. I think one of the key differences between arrogance and confidence is action. Arrogance breeds complacency and entitlement, a feeling of having already arrived and being better than others. Confidence leads to action fueled by a gratitude for the gifts I have. An awareness of those talents allow me to use them in the service of myself and others. 

What gifts and talents can you be confident in that will help you walk your path?