Steady Into the Storm

It swirls and circles

Dark, tense, looming

Mal-energy precedes in time and space

Imprints from the last pass

Check gear, reinforce, fasten

No more stalling

Raise the mainsail

Eyes open, shoes tied, jacket zipped, nothing loose

Clench up, onward with confidence and faith

Verbal lightening

Thunderous stares

Roiling emotions

Raw dysregulated tempest gale

The expert seafarer

Sets in self-assured, well-moored, steady

Calm on the horizon in focus

Knowing

This too shall pass

Liberated

Buffalo Mountain, Silverthorne, Colorado

“Oh that’s turning 50,” my wise friend said.

I had just told her how I feel more liberated lately to say what I think, freed to be totally honest, boobs out (figuratively), suddenly and significantly more than before. 

It’s not that I don’t care what anybody thinks, or that I mean to offend people. I may care less now what everybody thinks; the value of your opinion to me correlates directly with my respect for and connection to you. I assume you deserve my general respect until you show me otherwise, though—my default is still positive.

Somehow now, holding back what I really think, sharing less than the whole of it, feels less and less—what—authentic? Honest? Connecting? Meaningful? Real?

What am I saying/telling more?  Usually it’s observations and assessments, syntheses of conversations, how I know people, how I see them in their contexts, and of course my relationships with them.  When I see (feel) power, love, vulnerability, strength, connection, growth, evolution, light—anything that grabs my attention and moves me—I name it.  I don’t let it pass by without catching and holding it a while, showing it, shining it.  Do you see how great you are?  Do you feel your worth?  Here, let me show you, help you stand in it, own it.  I have done this for years with my close friends.  Maybe I’m just more generous with it now?

Since the pandemic, my return to work from a personal leave, turning 49 (not yet 50), and Son leaving for college, all in succession, I stand more confidently in my abilities—all of them—perception, integration, articulation, communication, connection.  I trust my intuition and judgment much more. I’m willing to take more risks in order to connect, to show that I see you, because that’s what I truly want to do—it nourishes us both.  Where I’m unsure, I feel empowered to clarify.  If I’m wrong, I can redirect, recalibrate, start over.  As my confidence has grown, perhaps so has my humility… Funny, that.

When I’m asked to step outside a boundary, I decline firmly, tactfully, and with clear rationale. I push some boundaries, too… intentionally, thoughtfully, with awareness of potential impact and conseqeuences.

When someone violates a boundary, I address it quickly and decisively.  Met with disrespect, I exit.  Life is too short, and I have too much to do, to tolerate that.

Huh…  Maybe this is the manifestation of some nascent, maturing life phase clarity?  Much still feels nebulous, vague.  Something is happening, though.

Life is getting bigger.

Can’t wait to see what’s around the corner.  Bring it.

The Painful Agitation of Clarity

Ptarmigan Trail, Silverthorne, Colorado

What a privilege my work is.

Once again, insights about life integrate and synthesize in the patient encounter, and my life is that much richer for it. These encounters make me think, they give me material to process here on the blog; but most importantly, I am allowed into people’s lives such that we both connect and benefit synergistically. It’s the relationships, of course.

This time Patient and I bonded over a shared experience of people just being more and more shitty to each other these days. Ironic, isn’t it, that as we emerge from restrictions on travel and social gatherings, we find ourselves yelling, honking, and just aggressing more than ever? Every day I witness escalating impatience, intolerance, judgment, and contempt. Hard to stay optimistic about our species right now.

The COVID-19 pandemic has challenged all of our status quo defaults, and we suddenly understand the deep flaws and disadvantages of our old assumptions. Global business can be conducted effectively via remote connections. Some outpatient clinical care can, too. Other work, like education, judicial work, acute clinical care, and essential retail, suffers profoundly or simply cannot be done remotely, showing us all just how much we have taken for granted, for so long.

I imagine each and all of us, through both individual and collective adversities since early 2020, have probably experienced at least a few epiphanies of clarity. If you have faced death in any context these few years, you may feel it even more acutely and painfully. Grief unfolds over time and transforms us. How much clearer are you today about your core values and life priorities, compared to three years ago? What activities, tasks, and even relationships, are just not that important to you now? What others are elevated? How has this shift disrupted and altered your whole existence, if you really think about it?

And how much agency have you today, to make changes in your life, to better align your daily activities and interactions with a reassessed, reoriented life perspective and world view? Are the things that demand your attention worth your finite and precious energy and resources?

Once we know deeply what we do and don’t want, what serves and nourishes us and not, the latter things become increasingly intolerable. And if we have little or no control to change our circumstances, to move toward the former things, we get agitated. If our coping skills are fragile, or our stress overwhelming, our agitation accelerates and behavior deteriorates. We lash out, triggering others’ distress in a maelstrom cascade, and in no time we’re all boiling in a collective, co-created, toxic social soup–and we have no idea what happened. We just feel shitty, and the downward spiral churns on.

Sometimes it’s okay to just be with the miserable feelings a while, simply acknowledging them, naming them, without judgment. Validating the suck for one another can be profoundly therapeutic. The next time someone lashes out, I can take a breath. I can refrain from reacting in kind. I can self-regulate, maintain my own peace, and not add acid to the soup. And if I can muster it, maybe I’ll offer a kind word or gesture, an expression of empathy, and turn down the heat a little, even if only in myself.

I feel my own impatience and agitation these days; lots of transition, inflection, and reorientation going on. I lean heavily on my tribe for understanding, reflection, and encouragement. I move my body regularly to release tension. I breathe slowly and deeply more often. I look for small changes I can make now, starting with my attitude, that create the new reality I want. If we can each and all slow down, see how the realities we crave align, maybe we could even work together to co-create something better for us all.

One day, one moment, one breath at a time. ODOMOBaaT, my friends. We’ got this.