On waiting, wandering, and patience.

“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost. “

J.R.R. Tolkien

I have always been a lover of the concept of “journey”. Endless seeking of some great truth, working hard to climb a mountaintop for some gold or treasure. Facing dragons, and ice storms and goblins along the way. Conquering fear, becoming this fearless leader all with some tangible reward and a life full of rest at the end of it all. I believed this to be greatest truth of life. If you were willing to work hard enough, you’d end your days in some lovely place reveling in the memories and the riches of your labor, having grapes fed to you while you lounge around in some marble building facing a sunset. In some ways, I feel this is still my expectation. But I’ve been noticing shifts that make me question what I want my marble building to look like, and what kinds of grapes I’d like.

I have always considered myself an explorer. Someone who would constantly be searching and for some reason, the idea of finding that marble building has always seemed slightly impossible for me. Along the way, the idea of searching for anything tangible has become far less appealing as searching for concepts and my own personal understandings.

When I reflect on when this started to take shape for me a memory comes up: I was in elementary school, and a teacher had asked us to write a paragraph or two about what we “wanted to be when we grew up”. Common responses included things like veterinarians, firefighters, nurses, astronauts. I quickly found I had misinterpreted what she meant. My response was simply “Happy”. I think at this moment, I had started to see my life as something that would be full. But not always of joy and experiences, but of heartache and pain as well. There would be a constant striving for balance and I was totally unaware of how balance and happiness are related.

I fell in love with the concept of journey and “finding home” at a young age. I still don’t even know if I understand what these things mean or meant to me. But I do know that my heart races at the thought. But what is different now, is that I think I have come to realize that one doesn’t always have to be moving in order to be on a journey. It is possible that home is the vessel assigned to us as flesh and bones, and that the journey is learning to love, and adapt, and maintain, and work through. Sometimes this concept feels like enough. Other days, it feels like a crock of shit. Both are acceptable. It is possible to feel both satisfied and disappointed all at once. It is possible to be both comfortable and uncomfortable.

I was having a conversation recently with a loved one, regarding the finality of the way society views success and how I feel this is changing. I remember my entering in the professional world and adapting to the mundane every day and thinking “this cannot be all there is”.

Maybe you will chuckle with the thought of this, and sit back in your chair to admire how naive this sounds. Maybe you agree. Maybe my issue here is greed. Maybe I expect too much out of my experiences, or maybe I have such high hopes that everything can be solved with routine and consistency. But lately I have found myself wandering. I’ve found myself referring some of the writings from my favorite novelists, and poets. I have found myself developing new five year plans, and taking courses and trying to figure out what is next. To be frank, I have found myself wishing my way out of routine to return to this idea of searching again.

When I was in undergrad I was speaking with my professor, and I told him that I want to be a professional in at least five different vocational fields. I wanted to be a forest ranger, a fitness instructor, an artist, a chef, a busness owner, yoga instructor, etc. You name it. He is the first and only person who has ever said “Why can’t you do it all?”. And he is right. I believe it is possible. And I think that is also why I am wandering right now. Exploring every option, trying all of them on and seeing what fits the right way. Reflecting back on this memory, I realize now, that not once did I refer back to my essay answer: “happy”. If you’d asked me right in that moment about what that even meant, I don’t think I could have given you an answer. Knowing what I know now though, I might suggest that had I chosen any one of those paths, happiness would still only lie in whatever I chose to see it in. I would be wandering forever if it meant happiness were a tangible, cookie cutter thing.

People don’t like waiting for what they want. They like instant gratification. I want answers, and direction and I want it all right this instant. I have zero patience. Anyone who knows me, knows that this is an understatement. But I think it is impossible to find any answers without wandering. I also think the wandering teaches patience, and presence. So when it comes to wandering, perhaps the right answer is not to wait. Get up, and start searching right now. Because doing nothing when trying to make decisions and accepting everything exactly as it is (if you are unhappy with wherever you are right now) is still a decision.

I don’t have any answers. I certainly haven’t found any of my great truths yet, and I absolutely do not know what it is like to have balance. But so far I have picked up some knowledge: In order to be able to wander, you have to be able to focus on one thing and multiple things all at once. I’m not talking multitasking. I’m talking openness and focus. I’m talking setting out on one mission while remaining open to the roads that become available to you along the way. There is not right or wrong answer. There is only your answer.

This does not mean that it is okay to lose your ability to stay right here, right now. We learn what we want and do not want from what is happening right now. Answers are actually instantly gratified in smaller ways in the day to day if you are present enough to look. Being too present, and too accepting can allow you to grow roots where you don’t want them planted. So being able to propel yourself once in a while with the notion of seeking and searching for the best fit is an important tool to have.

I think it all just means that humans are seeking true, spiritual, personal, and uninterrupted balance. Balance is what allows us to have patience enough to keep going, and stay present enough to enjoy our journey. And sometimes what we achieve by the end of it, is not as special as we thought it would be. It’s not enough. In fact, maybe the journey was far more exciting.

There have been endless times where I thought my journey was all kinds of messed up. Where I thought my road map was wrong, or that maybe I needed a new one altogether. There were times where I wanted to fling myself off the mountain top and just give up. But whenever I have gotten to this point I give myself permission to pause and take in the view from where I stand. I try to meet myself with where I am at. Sometimes it has been gorgeous and other times it was grotesque. Whenever it was gorgeous it gave me strength to stay where I was and take it in. Whenever it was grotesque I was usually too scared to stay put and it was a reminder to keep moving. The point here is that every journey has gorgeous views, and really rotten ones too. These are the things you will remember when you reach your marble buildings. Take the time to really remember them.

“Not all who wander are lost.” One of Tolkien’s most famous quotes. He’s right. Not everyone who is wandering is lost. In fact, maybe the real puzzler here is figuring out what it means to even be wandering. Sometimes we are just figuring it out. On occasion, not everything about the gold at the end is what it was cracked up to be. Sometimes it is better. Sometimes the gold was just misleading rocks. Other times, perhaps we had gold in our pockets the whole time but because we were seeking the bigger pile we forgot about what we had already brought with us.

The only thing I really know for sure, is that sometimes we have to find our own sunsets, build our own marble places, and grow our own grapes. Even these are subject to change once we have them.

There is a very real possibility that most people will always be wandering, and wondering and being impatient about what is next for themselves. It’s natural. But if we don’t take a minute to consider what our gold really is, then we may never know when we actually have it. I would encourage you to define it for yourself. Perhaps it is balance. Perhaps it is feeling content. Perhaps there is only balance and being content with little sprinklings of joy here and there. Perhaps there is only imbalance and feel discontent with little sprinklings of clarity along the way. This clarity is what will pull you next. This what the wandering is. What is pulling you toward your own personal balance? Where do you find that you feel safe enough to enjoy the sprinklings of joy? What do you want your marble buildings, and sunsets to consist of? How can you access them more frequently? Why can’t you do it all? What types of grapes grow on your vines?

I would encourage you to learn to stay present enough to learn patience while you wander. I know it is difficult to feel like we are constantly racing time so we can have as much time in our marble buildings as possible. But it is possible to access multiple marble buildings and to witness so many sunsets. Do not wait on wandering. You’re not just going to stumble into it. You have to answer your own questions and find your own answers. Wandering does not mean you are lost. Wandering means you are figuring it out. Wandering means it is okay to stop and check your pockets for gold. Wandering means you have time.

What are you currently seeking? Is it clarity, and balance? What are these to you? Do you have a specific map? What are the chances that everything on the map is still accurate? How can you make changes along the way? Are you checking your pockets? Are you allowing yourself to stay present enough to learn patience? Is what you are doing right now allowing you to choose to be happy? Please by all means, wander. Explore. Seek. But don’t forget to take in the views either way.

Warm regards,

Gina

On comparison, being enough and abundance.

” Let your head climb back down through your throat and into your body so it can see just how good you look when you’re not compared to anything.”

Buddy Wakefield

When I reflect on my experiences with comparison and this idea of “being enough of something”, I find myself overcome with waves of guilt, and shame and deep sadness. The very term “being enough” is one that makes me cringe, and I can’t explain it. These are just words. At their very core, they are only letters placed together to be read as a sound. And yet, they feel so heavy on my tongue. I want to close my eyes when I hear it, and I want truly to believe that “I am enough” of anything. When I start to explore this, I really feel as though I’m carrying around a bag of bricks that each hold solid reasons of why I am exactly the opposite of enough of anything. I’m not disclosing this to you for any other reason that I am fairly certain you can relate in some way or another. As humans, or at least within this society, it is difficult to refrain comparing ourselves, what we have, all that we are and do to those around us.

I remember being a child and having this little white dragon stuffed animal. My sister had one too, but she didn’t play with hers as much. I remember comparing my stuffed toy to hers and being jealous and angry about how pretty hers was, fresh and new. Mine was becoming dingy, and losing it’s white shine. The neck was slightly bent out of place, worn over time by physical manifestations of my love. But hers was “better”. So, one day, when she wasn’t in her room, I snuck in with a black pen and I scribbled a small scribble on the neck of this dragon toy and placed it back in its home (Cheli, if you didn’t know this until this very moment, I am sorry, this a darker side of myself which I am working on).

For some reason, I couldn’t handle the idea of anyone having the same toy but in better condition than myself. I think somewhere in my small mind, the idea that my love could take something beautiful and make it ugly was planted, and it made me angry and hurt. It’s an idea that has been hard to shake. There is never justification, however, for trying to bring someone else down over my own self-comparison, even at the tender age of six. I think truly, this early experience is something that stays with me because it was a point in my life where I saw something in myself that was undesirable and I didn’t have the words to explore it any further. I didn’t want to have or be something that was “worse” than what other people had or were. Looking back, I wish I still had my dragon, because I have grown to be able to understand that we love things in our life, regardless of how they change over time, and that this change is sometimes due to the way that we love it. And that is okay. And we can celebrate it if it is healthy and promotes self-awareness. To be completely honest, this comparison technique is something I never grew out of. It has been nothing but toxic.

Comparison is not always bad. It can help develop knowledge and self-understanding. It can be a tool for measurement, or a way to learn from mistakes. When used as a tool, it actually can be quite helpful. It becomes dangerous when we apply it as the groundwork for how we operate. When we allow it space into our relationships with others, and with ourselves. It becomes dangerous when we incorporate it so often that we begin to feel resentment, bitterness and cynicism toward the world and those around us. Because using it in this way is when we begin to lose the things that make us authentically ourselves. It’s hard to know who to blame for where comparison became a tool to use against ourselves. So I won’t go there today. But I want to focus on the impact this can have. I do think it is crucial, that I stress how much comparison can make us feel as though we have to hide some part of who we are. It breeds “perfectionism” in beings that are made out of organic matter. If organic is said to be pure, doesn’t it mean that we already have reach a state of perfection?

Our body and brains know when we betray ourselves and so often, we feel betrayed when we feel we need to hide some detail or fact about ourselves. But we do this, often, to survive. We are afraid of being the “other” in the room. Society preaches “fitting in” and adapting ourselves into some cookie cutter mold. But squares do not fit inside of circles. And humans do not fit into cookie cutters. You know this. We all know this. But there is still this hidden suggestion that maybe comes from within that says ” if I don’t squish myself in that mold, I will never be enough”. If we compare cats and dogs, we would find many similarities, yes. But the sole things draw people into loving one or the other are the differences between them. But then to claim that one is better than the other is to claim facts based on opinions based on nothing but preference. And yet somehow, our society has let that be a driving forces in what is “acceptable” amongst human beings. But if we look at cats and dogs and acknowledge that none of them participate in comparison, I think it is fair to then point out just how happy they are being exactly who they are. We have much to learn from them.

So cut to present day. 27 year old Gina, still comparing, still resenting, still bitter and slightly cynical. Everytime I hear someone say the phrase “you are enough”, I instinctively roll my eyes. I find myself still angry that other people experience things I want for myself so much earlier than I ever will be able to. I become angry with myself when I realize I may never look or feel the way I want because I have mental illnesses and the potential for chronic conditions that may prevent me from doing so. I become frustrated with myself when I can not provide “enough” of the things that my loved ones may need or want from me. I fall into a dark place when I think about what my traumas may have done to my brain and the way I present myself to others. But to try to compare myself to other people, especially knowing what I do about myself and my past, is not fair. In fact, it is straight up cruel and it would, later then, be no surprise at all that I might feel what I feel about myself when I choose to be so unkind to me.

I think at this point, it is safe to say I have not developed this part of my self-love journey enough yet to claim to be any professional on the matter. But I will say that the impacts of comparison, and not believing myself to be enough of anything have been heavy and intense and really not conducive at all to learning techniques and lifestyles focused on self-love. Additionally, I think the word “enough” is misleading. I think it is a measurement that indicates the “bare minimum” and takes away the possibility of a point of satisfaction. Rather than focusing on what I “might lack”, I can focus on “areas of development”.

I would like to break it down. I think that language and the way we speak to ourselves can be a “make it or break it situation”. Language, however many letters come together to make sounds, is powerful.

Rather than being unkind to myself through comparison, I might state instead that I would like to improve on my time management skills. I would like to build upon my dedication to loving myself so much that I feel I actually deserve time to do more physically. To cast things aside that make me feel small and insignificant. This might mean removing myself from platforms that allow people to hide authenticity. This might mean staring at myself in a mirror for two hours until I am fine with the way my face has changed over the years. This might mean taking a minute to acknowledge that I have not been “made less than” or “corrupted” as a result of what my abusers have done to me. This might mean learning that hiding is not always safe. This might mean practicing my thoughts over and over again until I understand how to reframe them.

So with the help of my therapist, and those whom I love the most I have been trying to re frame this for myself. If we think of being “enough” as “abundance”, rather than “the bare minimum”, what do we really possess within ourselves? What qualities and features do I have an abundance of that I can pride myself in enough to forget to compare myself to others today? If you read my post from last week, I mention a bit about understanding what I need, and that right now, my brain is stating abundance. This word feels warm and refreshing, and comforting. These are qualities which I possess.

Other qualities and features that I possess in abundance: Kindness, empathy, determination, devotion, creativity, friendliness, diligence, understanding. I am a great cook because i have an abundance of knowledge around food. I have an abundance of authenticity. I have managed to stay true, through all of this, to myself, my passions and my goals in whichever way they may change. I always wake up. Not just in a state of being conscious but in a state of coming to my sense about how I want to be treated. I have an abundance of communication skills. My body is round and soft, and some day it will be fully open to receiving all the love it can also give. For now, I have an abundance of ways of being certain that others know I love them. I never stop trying. I have helped, for certain, at least five people. I have an abundance of knowledge and skills which I use every day. I have an abundance of respect for others, and an abundance of boundaries for those I do not respect. I have an abundance of trust. I have an abundance of acceptance from my loved ones. I have an abundance of forgiveness from my loved ones. I have an abundance of ways in which I know how to connect to other people. I have an abundance of opinions. I have an abundance of admiration. I have an abundance of stories and survival mechanisms. I have an abundance of perspective. I have an abundance of experiences. I have an abundance of lessons. I have an abundance of openness.

I am not saying to stop comparing yourself. I know it is simply, not possible and there may be some days where it is all you can do. That’s okay. I am asking you to take stock, right now of what exactly you know for sure that you have an abundance of within yourself. I think you may find it to be a much longer list than you anticipated. This was the hardest post for me to write yet. This is a topic that I am struggling with every day. But I cannot ask you to do it, without having done it myself.

Take stock of what you possess in abundance. What qualities are they? What can you do right now, tomorrow, daily etc. to ensure that you will try to refrain from comparing who you are to some one who is a completely different being than yourself? Why is this important to you? How can you reframe the language you use for yourself to fit a life that allows you to stop hiding? How will you build awareness around your personal stuffed dragons? What can you do to appreciate what you have to give others and yourself? How will you account for your own personal journey and how it has contributed to who and why are you the way you are? How can you keep this in mind when you start to compare? How do you ensure you are not trying to squish yourself into molds that are not made for you? What can you do to assure yourself that all of this abundance, all of what you possess really is enough. And it is. And you are. But you have to believe it.

Warm regards,

Gina

On letting go.

“Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

David Foster Wallace

“You need to let go”. It sounds easy. It sounds like it should be no big deal. It’s a phrase that is used so often in recovery, treatment, clinical and nonclinical settings that I’m surprised there’s not a procedural application yet. “You need to let go”. It sounds like some hippie gibberish that a few weeks of solid meditation and some good tea can help with. While those things are great, they are just tools for the journey. “You need to let go”. It’s enough to spark a bit of rage in people who need to do it most and don’t know how. I know this because I’ve been this person for too long.

I’ve needed to let go of my pain for a long time. And whenever I hear this statement , it feels like a statement of ignorance. It feels like whomever is stating this to me, is a mentally stable privileged jerk who has no idea what they’re talking about. Because in my mind, anyone who could say this to me is someone who can’t possibly understand that to “let go” means to stop protecting myself. It means forgetting about my pain, and to forget means whatever has caused me pain could happen again. It’s to make myself deliberately vulnerable for more pain. Or so I might have thought.

When I started therapy three years ago with my current therapist (bless her heart), she started by reading me a story from a children’s book about a pigeon wanting to drive a bus. The moral of the story is that to anyone with common sense, pigeons driving buses is a dangerous thing. But if we equate our emotions and pain to the pigeon, we let it happen all the time. The metaphor eventually points to understanding that these things do serve us well in life, but they aren’t allowed to drive the bus. This metaphor explains that perhaps, it is best if these things just become passengers, instead.

Cut to present, and I’m sitting with my therapist telling her how difficult it is accept my traumas. And she introduces me to EMDR (Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing). The idea here is that the therapist works with you to reprocess whatever traumas you have experiences over and over using eye movement that mimics sleep patterns. It sounded crazy, and to be honest I wasn’t sure I believed it would do much. But I was desperate and so drained so I said yes. I have trouble even thinking of a time in my life now, where this modality seemed silly. Because to be frank, I’m fairly certain it has changed my life.

For me, the experience is similar to dreaming. I would see my trauma occur over and over again, until it became less painful to rewatch. But what is mesmerizing about it, is that since it is dreaming, it’s just my brain communicating with me. My brain knows very well that I communicate best through metaphor and imagery. So in my most recent session, I found myself not reliving my trauma at all and in fact running down a path in the woods in the middle of fall. It’s brisk and it is just me, and I feel strong. I feel the cold air kissing my cheeks and I stop to look around and notice a giant puddle of mud. (A side note here, is that following my trauma, I felt dirty. I could take three showers in one day, scrubbing myself with sponges until the skin was raw, and I would still feel dirty. In my mind I would never be clean enough.). Instead of bypassing the mud in this dream, I jumped into it. I rolled my braided hair into it, I spread it all over my arms and my cheeks. I felt happy. Asking myself what I need, with a response from my mind of ” Abundance, love, family, kindness, more”. I sat with the warm mud as it hardened on my skin before taking off running into the fall morning. Sweaty, muddy, wearing this dirt like a coat of honor. I felt less dirty than I have felt in years. I felt light and free.

I really believe that this was my brain’s way of saying “You can be fine and you are reaching for more, but please be gentle with me. Please let go of all this pain, I am so tired.”. Since this dream I have found myself being kinder to myself, wearing soft clothing, allowing myself to be whatever I need in the moment. Sometimes I find it in other things, like sleep and comfortable sheets. But most of the time, it’s what allow myself to think about while I’m creating, doing, being. It’s reflection. It’s taking an inventory and rotating or eliminating whatever is expired. It’s understanding that the answers I need are already within me. It’s reconnecting with my body and becoming its friend.

I’ll tell you, letting go is something I have always and will probably always struggle with. This work is never done. But from my understanding so far, I’ve learned a few things around letting go.

This is what letting go is not: Letting go is not giving up. It’s not allowing yourself to throw the towel in on trying. Letting go is not being vulnerable to being hurt again (getting hurt is something that happens regardless of how tight your grip on things are). Letting go is not allowing yourself to walk blindly into traps. Letting go does not mean your abusers are winning, it’s not a competition. Letting go is not forgetting. Letting go is not excusing how others have wronged you, it’s choosing to move forward anyway.

This is what letting go is: Letting go is allowing yourself to admit that you want more for yourself. Letting go of past pain is allowing you to understand that you have more to offer than the worst things that have happened to you. Letting go is taking all you have learned and doing good things with it whether for others or for yourself. Letting go is making noticeable changes towards growth. Letting go is approaching the world with a childish sense of wonder and awe and being able to appreciate it knowing what you know about pain still. Letting go is being able to accept what has happened to you. It’s knowing it is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to move forward. Letting go is re-claiming yourself, your body, your time. It’s reconnecting with who you never knew you wanted to be. Letting go is having empathy for yourself, others and those who have wronged you. Letting go is letting your abusers know you don’t have the time or space for them anymore. Letting go is making room for everything that continues to serve you and recycling what does not. Letting go is forgivjng yourself for how you might have wronged yourself. Letting go is expansion.

So yes, you do need to “let go”. But not for anyone but yourself. Let go of your pain so you can be more for yourself. I’d encourage you to explore what this actually means though. Explore what it really is to feel lighter when the weight of your pain finally leaves your shoulders and your jaw alone.

I leave you with this today: If you are holding on to pain, how would you like to see yourself let go of it? What are these things? How can you manifest strength enough to be kind and trust yourself to let go? Your claws are far too precious to make marks on things that do not serve you any longer. Are you pigeons in their rightful seats? How will you implement the boundary to ensure they stay where they belong without stifling them? Are you certain they will tell you when it is their time to get off the bus? How will you make sure?

Warmest regards,

Gina

In finding strength.

The sea’s only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don’t know much about the sea, but I do know that that’s the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind deaf stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head.

Into The Wild (Penn, 2007).

Lately, I find myself being drawn to the water. I don’t know how to explain this because I am actually terrified of large bodies of water. For myself, it was always the idea of sharing space with creatures and waves that I don’t know. These things might not have had my best interest at heart, so to place myself in a state of true vulnerability seemed foolish.

To back track a little here, I remember my first realization of this was swimming in the deep end of a neighbor’s pool. My feet couldn’t touch the ground. I was probably no older than 13. I panicked and never went back in. I’ve spent my entire life looking for certainty and choosing to dismiss things I couldn’t be absolutely sure about. I need to know. I always “just want to make sure”. It’s why I watch the same movies and shows over and over–the ending is always the same.

There is a certain strength that comes from simply knowing. This is true. The other thing I know to be definitively true is this: our perceptions of what it means to be strong are fluid. Much like water. And it can surround you, provide you with a sense of calm, serenity. Or it can drown you, in its cold grasp with its harsh blows and vastness. You can see it as scary. Dark. Full of monsters. Or you can see it as beautiful. Full of surprises. Home to billions of things waiting to be discovered.

Strength exists in some version of itself in your head right up until the point where you realize you don’t know anymore. That is really strength. When I reflect on this further, I find that my truest, strongest moments, were moments of uncertainty. Where I trusted myself enough to know I could find my footing in the deep end of life. With my own brain, using tools I have picked up along the way that act as life jackets. Relying on family and friends to be good anchors when the waves get rough. I am lucky to have these things. But these things have only ever helped me be strong. As McCandless says above- the real challenge, the truly important thing is actually feeling strong. And I have to be honest, those days are far and few between. I have clinical depression and anxiety. A touch of OCD. A smattering of PTSD. I’m currently facing some uncertain health issues. I’m floating at sea right now, and I am so terrified. I find myself gripping to my tiny sail boat tighter than ever.

It is rarely when I wake up feeling as though I am ready for what the day is going to throw my way. I find myself constantly asking myself questions: “How will I make it through today? What do I need to do? What do I need? Period. What do I need?”. My therapist and I have been focusing on this a lot these days. Exploring what it is I actually need in order to feel strong. And some days it is rest, quiet, alone time. Others it is love from my loved ones. Sometimes it’s forgiveness. What I’m saying is, the things that truly make me feel strong have to come from within. To weather the storm, and ensure safe passage, the ship has to be manned by people who want the best for the whole crew. But in order to build camaraderie amongst the crew, a level of trust and vulnerability have to be present. Each member has to be willing to engage in this way for success.

So that is what I am trying to do. I am trying to ask parts of myself to engage in vulnerability and trust amongst one another so that the whole ship can be successful. I’m asking myself what I need on a daily basis. If you are anything like myself, it might be hard not to see this as some selfish act. But the reality is, is that to be aware of this is to be advocating for the best you. As a therapist, it is difficult for me to see it any other way because I find my inner critic and my altruistic self hang together on the regular and they tend to be extremists. So much so, that they would run me ragged. So I am learning to be realistic and aware. I am trying to discover how everything can be balanced, and how one eight pound head can hold so many thoughts and still have no idea how to plant its feet on the ground.

But it’s about using my resources. What I already know. To be accepting of what I do not know. Trusting myself enough to be vulnerable with myself just enough so I can feel safe floating. So I can start to be okay with the waves. So I can discover what is under the water’s surface and not be so scared. So I can start to feel strong.

I leave you with this food for thought: What do you need? To meet the inner needs, to unite your ship’s crew– what can you give yourself each day? True self care isn’t about face masks, and tea. While these things are great, enjoy them while you answer the bigger questions: What do I need today so that I can feel strong? Where will it come from? How do I make it sustainable? If I do not have it, how will I get it in a way that is healthy and reasonable?

The water will never slow or calm or change itself for you or anyone else. The only real way to handle this is to make sure you have what you need to make it through when the waves get rough. Because the one thing we seem to forget often is this: Water is cleansing too. It refreshes. Allows us to start new. And if we are able to feel strong, it too, can be refreshing.

Warmest regards,

Gina

A starting point.

” A ship is always safe at shore but that is not what it is built for.”

Albert Einstein

I’ve always had a lot to say. If it’s not through words, it’s visually and if it is neither of those it is usually through a heated, one way debate in my brain. With myself. I always have an opinion or some two cents to throw into a pile of change that the world has already created. But now, at 27 years old, I find myself asking more questions. If you ask me what I do for a living, I’d respond with a long story of how I wound up where I am. (This is a story for another time– as we are still only getting to know each other, I will provide you the details for another post). My winded response is likely to justify to a younger version of myself that to that to some extent I’m still not entirely sure it’s what I’m meant to be doing.

I really believe it is because there has been this constant inner conflict around wanting to help people, but helping people in my OWN way. You see, I’ve been frustrated as a clinician since entering the world of clinical anything. I want help people. Not in some clinical setting, where I can only be half present with someone who really needs my help. Because my thought around that is this: Here is this person who is in need. But we have 30 minutes to focus on some major issue that they have to go home and spend the rest of however long facing. And insurance companies care more about the money than the person it comes from. It is maddening. All I really want to be able to say to them is this: ” Hey, how are you? How’s your day?What’s on your mind? I don’t have the answers for you, but I will help you find your own and we can take as long as we need.”. There has to be a balance. So that’s what I am setting out to do.

To be honest, I struggled for some time with the idea of making a blog. Having a public place to express thoughts and try to reach people in some way always felt really intense and scary. But I’ve been trying to do more of what scares me. Because this isn’t actually about me. I’ve been trying to stick to what qualities I encourage in my clients and what my own therapist has encouraged in me–curiosity and wonder. I remember having these qualitues be more frequently apparent in my life when I was younger. When I reflect, I feel like the wonder piece of it has somehow been lost along the way. Because the more you know, the less mystical things seem. But when I really take a long, critical look at it I keep coming back to this: you really can’t have wonder without curiosity and as long as you have both, it is possible to maintain both.

But the trick isn’t about always asking “why?”. Curiosity is more about knowing when, and where to ask why? What will you achieve in doing so? What answers are you looking for? What do you want to know? How will it serve you? Why ? If you don’t know, if you don’t go in with a plan, you can end up with a lot of knowledge. Which is awesome. But how will you implement that? Are you asking the right questions? Because our point isn’t just to know, it’s to understand. Then to be able to step back and be in wonder of how we got there. How others did it. Why that matters.

When I was in art school, I remember my professor mentioning to the class that “putting down the first mark is always the hardest, but you have to just start”. I leave you with this: Where is your starting point? What questions are you going to ask today to obtain new practices, thoughts and pathways for yourself tomorrow?

Warmest regards,
Gina