What I learned about Being well for 1 month

The purpose of my little experiment, which is over today, was to give myself a taste of a different way of living - a way that might be better than my normal way - without the gravity of permanent change hence making it doable.

Surprising conclusions of my experiment:

 - It is much harder than I thought it would be to train my thinking to put my wellbeing first.  Over the years, I always thought, my little masochistic ways were a temporary veil over a possibility that would always be there for me.  But as soon as I focused my attention on it, I discovered what a weak little infant that part of me truly is.  It was not something I could do just because I decided to.  My mind has habits of thinking.  Noticing this was a little horrifying - that I can imprison myself in my old ways against my will.

- The most beneficial therapy is harmful if the environment or practitioner doesn't suit.  This really surprised me. I have up until now believed that I should not let interpersonal dynamics get in the way of receiving a valuable service.  When I hear other people rejecting a (hair stylist, dentist, massage therapist) because they didn't like them personally, or don't like the building it's in or smth, I have thought that let's the small things get in the way.  But I was so surprised to notice how uncomfortable I was at times, even though whatever treatment/therapy etc I had bought for myself was well executed - it did not always contribute to my wellbeing.  So now I will be one of those weird people who pays more and drives further just to have the one I like - and it is worth it.

- Another surprise: primping is good for me.  I used to think this was shallow and a waste of time.  But I feel remarkably better just going through my day when I feel that I look good. Even writing that makes me feel embarrassed.

- Dairy is truly bad for me.  I have seen a lot of improvements in the way I am and feel physically since going off it.  I knew that gluten and caffeine were bad for me, but the result I have seen from going off dairy is so good, I will give up ice cream. 30 days ago I think I wouldn't have known who I was without ice cream.

- I did not succeed in going to bed early every night and writing for an hour every day.  It was really hard to fit that in my lifestyle.  I will still try.

- I love exercise! I take a regular weight lifting class and I have become addicted - never would have thought.  I combine it with a steam sauna and deep tissue massage and that is where it's at!!

-hip hop aerobics is my new religion.  Dancing like this connects me to my lower chakras and it nourishes my soul.

Mostly I noticed that this month was not a month in which I lived in my perfect way - rather, it was a month to figure out what my perfect way is.  I overestimated how much I knew about what I want and need, having focused so little attention on it all along.  I am blessed to have my husband - who totally supported my little project and wants me to continue it.

So going forward, I am keeping the exercise and hip hop, selective occasional deep tissue massage, low gluten and no dairy.  I will keep trying to write more and sleep more. I will keep making my brain practice a new way of thinking.

I think I stressed myself out a little bit over this, as per usual (trying to do what I am doing really well), cramming lots of "wellbeing activities" into my week rather than listening to my inner whims.  I will go forward more relaxed and just try to do a better job of letting myself have what I want.

Thanks for listening :)

An Adventure in Wellbeing

This is the first day of my 30 day experiment with a different kind of life. Up until now, I have been a girl who does not take care of herself. I may be pursuing a goal, or trying to please someone, or executing a principle I believe in - whatever it is, I put myself and my wellbeing as a non priority. I notice that most people don't do this. And I wonder if maybe I would make a better impact if I were just always feeling and being my best, rather than doing my best. So, in this month of April, I will be prioritizing my wellbeing. I am not sure if it is the right way to be, but I am going to try it for 30 days.

The basic premise is that I do nothing that is bad for me and everything that is good for me.

I do without all of this:

caffeine

alcohol

TV/movies

sugar

dairy

gluten

checking email 27 times/day

I do more of this:

deep tissue massage

green juice

fish

dark green veggies

sleep

positive hypnosis

hip hop aerobics

yoga

painting

writing

swimming in the comal river

And otherwise, I just try to stay centered on my intentions to always be well in every moment and see where that takes me.

A rendezvous with an old Love...

I just got back from France - a short visit of 7 days, with husband, mother in law and baby. The trip was inspired by my friend Beth's wedding near Dijon and we turned it into a family affair. For my three fellow travellers, it was the first time in France... but not for me.

I spent a semester of highschool there, in Strasbourg - it was my first time abroad - the experience that made me a world traveller. Being there again brought back feelings I had forgotten...

It was like a short, whirlwind encounter with an old flame. France was my First - the one that started it all - the one that made me hungry for more. Its new ways shook me, then changed me: the woman I am today is a direct evolution of that porous 17 year old who soaked in France for 4 months. I love it. I feel like I can be myself there, like I have everything I need there.

The timing of this reconnection is dangerous: tragically, I find my old love again after I am already married - to Estonia. And I have a list, necessarily short to serve the needs of my new child, of places where I can live in this life.

The timing is bad, France. But having been with you again, I don't know how I can go on living without you, knowing you exist.

Perhaps there will be a possibility of a Ménage à trois...

Our Meaning is in Being

One of the most dangerous times in our lives - and perhaps the most overlooked of all dangerous times - is the mid-twenties. It is right up there with the mid-teens in terms of figuring out who you are and what you are going to be; being pulled in many directions; making choices that will impact the rest of your life. This critical period happens when you've been out of school long enough to notice that the world is not as conquerable as you thought it would be but before you have had time to earn the skills and money that you need to actually do any conquering.

I feel like we have social systems in place to take care of teenagers and midlife-crisisers, but I see nothing for the quarterlife crisis.

I was thinking today, while watching my 5 month old baby staring euphorically at a lamp, that maybe nature creates us to have these crisis points exactly when life renews itself before our eyes. We have babies in our mid-twenties: we witness what a human is like in its purest form and learn again that the meaning of life is to love, that nothing superficial matters, bright light is beautiful and curiosity is our true calling.

And then, when we've had a few more decades to toil - and we may come to a point again where we see our life's efforts haven't made the dent we thought they would, then we have grandchildren and they teach us all over again who we are.

If, in seeking the truths of the universe, we look to the other species, we see this pattern. When an animal has a short life, the pattern looks magnified to us -we imagine rows of generations of insects being born, giving birth, and dying. From the outside, it looks so fruitless and pointless - but to experience it yourself, it feels so rich. It looks so pointless, in fact, that it may be in observing the cycle in other creatures that we insist there must be more for ourselves... we try to make there be more... thinking, feeling, trying... activities that lead us to our moments of crisis. And then we feel the peace and purpose of bringing in a baby to the world and for a moment we feel saved.

First Time across the Ocean with a baby

I have run through airports and flown on planes many dozens of times in my life. I started when I was 16 - before the world was afraid - before hypersecurity - and I created it in my mind to the most romantic place. It is a place - even though it is thousands of places (planes, airports, cities, countries). In this place, there are no natives and there are no foreigners - none of us belong, all of us are passing through. And I am not what anyone sees me as or knows me to be - I am stripped of all cultural and social context and therefore feel completely free to be completely me.

I made rituals for myself in this place: I always sample things in Duty Free; I always take my time in the bathrooms; I always take a journal.

A few years ago, a great thing happened to me - I found someone to be mine and he goes to this place with me. His passport is a different color but he likes most of the same things. I compromised some of my rituals but I added new ones: we sit together and speak to each other in a mix of languages (german, estonian, spanish, english, bit of arabic) that we both understand and figure no one else around us can. We get through long transoceanic flights watching movies and snuggling, sleeping on each other in uncomfortable positions.

And for the first time, we are three. I got dropped off to my special place, now with a husband and a baby. In general, I would say my place is not a good place for a 4 month old - the scale and scope of it is too big and busy; there is too much unexplained noise all around all the time; no good places to sleep; no good places to eat; external schedules dictating rather than the schedules of his body. But here are some things I learned:

1. Even tiny sounds are painfully audible in an airplane. Though my baby cries very little, he does make noises over a 9 hour period and those noises are heard by about a 20 person radius, depending on the plane. His noises made his parents stressed because we want to be polite to others. I noticed that as I walked my sweet (quiet) baby down the aisles, there were some kind smiles directed at me, all of them from older people - and I wondered if they were remembering their own experiences.

2. We nursed on the way up and on the way down (to help his ears) - calculating and manipulating sleeping and eating schedules, etc. I begin to wonder if all that was necessary...

3. Parents of an infant don't sleep. At all. We were awake 30 hours straight.

4. My son is a charmer. I watched, fascinated as my tiny baby looked at the people on the plane. He would glance at the crowd and then one face seemed good to him and he looked at that person with obvious intent of being looked at in return. If he got what he wanted, he lit up with a smile, which, of course, meant one was returned back to him. When he got that smile, he was very happy and moved on to the next person. He liked some more than others and they were always women.

This is the one thing I didn't read about plane riding with infants - whatever bothersome noises are erased by their charms. Hayden loved the end, where people had to walk close by him as they unboarded - he made at least 8 people smile back at him. The whole back of the plane was filled with a warm energy as people who hadn't wanted to smile were forced to, and the ice of awkwardness at being in such tight proximity to others yet trying to retain isolation was broken - a dozen people could no longer help but be aware that they had all just been made happy by the same thing - the tiny baby in my arms. Peep and I just watched, stunned and shy. We have discussed that we wish for our child that he be a people-person but felt concerned that we wouldn't be able to teach him. If anything, this experience taught us that Hayden is already a social genius and all we have to do is not mess him up.

Now we are all three in the little garden house Peep grew up in - finally his mother has met her newest grandson. We are where we set out to go and being here is worth the journey.

Silver Lining of the Recession

I had to go to the Social Security office and the DMV both in one day. After a decade or more of going to these places, I was prepared with a folder of multiples of every possible paperwork, something to sew while I waited and a grim forbearance. I was bracing myself for the dull faces who always give me attitude because their jobs are so incredibly boring that they have to make my life difficult in order to make their own interesting.

I was shocked to find the persons behind both desks were lively and efficient and had an attitude like they wanted to help me. No this has never happened to me before - two in one day even. Where did these crummy boring offices find such gems? And why now all of a sudden? Oh, yeah...

I don't know which companies laid them off, but I am so grateful to find them in their new jobs.

Why all mothers are Crazy

I understand today why all mothers are crazy. It is an observation I've made for many years, beginning as a teenager - I don't know one single mother who is totally normal. They worry way too much, have irrational fears or emotional outbursts or are controlling etc. I was really hoping to avoid being that and even thought I had a chance since being aware of a danger can usually aid in preventing it.

But Today, my baby fell onto the floor. I wasn't in the room, I wasn't even in the house. Both his parents were using his nap time to do some gardening and from outside I heard a thump. My first thought, with a primal ache inside of me in some place I didn't know I had, was "dear god, please don't let that be my baby." And as my feet were running to the door my mind was racing to find any other explanation for that sound and by the time I was helpless in that, I saw his tiny curled up body, face down on the floor and he was wailing.

I was crying, I was screaming: I picked him up and held him, shutting my eyes against what I was afraid I would see and I asked Peep, who was right behind me to look. I asked, "Is he okay? Is he okay?" through my tears. (Writing about this makes my stomach churn) Peep was shockingly calm when he answered that he was fine.

And I am afraid that little incident may have finally shattered the glass of my sanity and I am filing into the ranks of motherhood. And I understand it now.

In other things in life, when we fail, we have the option to quit. We pick up the violin and it sounds terrible - We feel bad for a minute but then we put it down and move on to something else. Or even when the stakes are higher: we crash our car and hurt someone, we can say we will never drive again, and so on. But in this task, we do not have the option to quit. I felt it today - like I have failed so badly there is no going forward, and my mind wanted to take me down that familiar route of coping - "let it go, move on" but I couldn't budge. I'm here for life. He's still my baby, he's still in my arms and he could fall again and what's to say I can do a better job then. And I'm only 2 months in.

I spent the rest of the evening traumatized, hearing him fall all over the house and jerking my head around to see him, happy and gurgling. I saw that this was 10 times harder on me than it was on him. And then I saw the future - this is only the beginning - he will fall again, harder even.

Any time people have talked to me about parenting being hard, this is what they meant. I've been saying, "No, we get plenty of sleep." "He really doesn't cry that much." "He's such an easy baby." but they weren't talking about those things. Today was my initiation. And it turns out there's no chance of dodging that bullet, even though I saw it coming a long way away and had plenty of time.