Learning

It has been a looooong time since I put something up on this blog.  Thanks Birdie, for asking.  I’m not sure why the hiatus, exactly, because I’ve been doing so much better and feel like I’m actually relearning happiness.  At least I’ve been re-experiencing happiness.  But more important than happiness is the hope I’ve felt.  Since my last post in February a lot has happened, but most of it has been internal.  I’ve spent many hours, days, months, just thinking, reading, and writing (journaling). My therapist said that I am the healthiest she’s ever seen me.  I’ve felt that way too. I think I’ve actually been experiencing life the way “normal” people do—some ups, some downs, but generally doing all of life’s requirements haven’t taken much thought or energy.  It’s been so long since I’ve felt like that, and I’m enjoying it.  However, I’m still very introspective.  I live a lot in my thoughts.  And I haven’t had much energy for people other than my husband, kids, and a few close friends.  But I’m allowing that to be enough.  

I’ve been reading many good books, a lot on relationships.  One author that I’ve found very inspiring is Brené Brown.  Her focus is on the power of being vulnerable.  Someday I’ll write a post on my thoughts about vulnerability.  She’s given a great TED talk which you can learn more about here:  

http://www.ted.com/speakers/brene_brown

This summer my family went on a 50 mile backpacking trip over 6 days.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done!  None of us had prepared for the trip, so I think it was physically harder than it had to be.  There were days I was sure that I could not make it.  I wanted to sit down and cry; at one point I even considered turning back before I got too far to turn back.  But I kept putting one foot in front of the other—what else could I do (stay in the mountains and live on huckleberries?)?  There were also wonderful, magical, moments (especially when I was able to ignore the 6 blisters and toenail that was coming off).  We ate wild huckleberries, saw wolf tracks, swam in the Selway River, and I loved checking out all of the plants.  

I know this is a worn-out metaphor, but I thought a lot about how life is like that 50 miler I was on.  There are moments of dragging yourself up hills/mountains; there are moments of spectacular views; there are moments of pain; there are moments of refreshment; there are moments when you feel you can’t go on; there are moments of feeling proud (even amazed) that you did go on; there moments of being cold and also of being hot; there are moments when you think the trail will be easy but it turns out to be the hardest part of the hike; there are moments when you need the support of your hiking partner; there are moments when you need to give support to your partner; there are moments when you wish you never started the damned hike; there are moments when you are so grateful you did. Yep, it’s a lot like life.  The only difference is that in life we don’t know where the end of the trail is and we can’t be sure there will be a hot shower and ice cream waiting for us.  But we can hope.  

It’s all about hope.  One of the most difficult things is that during the dark days of depression, hope flees.  During those times I guess we just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other—what else can we do? 

I am learning to accept the moments of hope and happiness, without worrying about how long they will last.  I’m learning to just “sit” with my anxiety, depression, fear.  I’m learning to let go of worrying that I’m slipping into depression every time I have a down day (I am still vigilant about slipping back into depression—I want to do everything I can to proactively keep myself healthy).  I’m learning to let people in and accept their help and to trust.  I’m learning to embrace the reality that I’ll never get things perfectly, every time—to embrace mistakes, to embrace the ebb and flow of emotions and of relationships.  I’m learning to sit with the reality that my children will experience pain in life, no matter what I do to protect them.  I’m learning to want my children to experience all of life, the hard, the good, the scary, the wonderful.  I’m learning to accept life as it is.

Most importantly, I’m learning to accept what is in my life and what I can give to life as enough.  Our culture is constantly telling us that there isn’t enough, that we are not enough (some of Brené Brown/’s ideas).  It is so pervasive—I wake in the morning and the first thing I think is “I didn’t get enough sleep” and by the time I go to bed I’m thinking “I didn’t get enough done.”  I never really realized what a strong hold that idea/mantra has on me and my thoughts.  So, I’m learning to live with a belief in abundance, that there is more than enough of everything in this life; that I am enough. And this post is long enough!  :)