I originally typed out that 25 was a year of growth for me. But, that’s too generalized and deceptive. So was it a year of regression? Because that’s the opposite of growth, right?
To me, growth always meant more, it meant new, it meant action. It meant constantly trying to become. Which made just being scary. But, the biggest misconception I had about growth is that it’s strictly an additive procedure.
It’s said that our actions make us who we are. That’s probably the best way to find out who someone else is. But, I think a better gauge of finding out who you are, as a person, is your motivation for doing those actions. Actions can deceive true feelings. Actions can overcompensate. Actions can downplay.
Most “bad habits”, or harmful behaviors, are actually safety mechanisms. I’m not a psychologist nor do I have any kind of training in this area. I’m simply speaking of what I’ve found to be true for myself. What I mean by safety mechanisms are, habits or thought patterns we follow that keep us from feeling threatened. These mechanisms usually guide responses toward “rewards” (good feelings) and help us avoid punishment (bad feelings).
Many of my mornings start with a surprise; I still feel like shit. The exhaustion sets in before my feet even hit the floor. Here we go again. I peel myself out of bed and drag my shackled body to the kitchen to make my oatmeal. I need to line my stomach so I don’t puke. Then it’s time for the daily reminder of my body’s deficiency. I swallow the pill. Don’t forget to write it down! And off we go, as the toxic substance, that I can’t touch with my hands, yet put in my body everyday, secretes it’s way through my marrow and blocks the bad cells from being made.
Calling someone soft is an insult. “Come on man, don’t be so soft” is a common jab used to scare people into action. It’s said to make the other person feel as though they are being weak. And nobody wants that. I get that it’s usually said in a joking, playful manner. But, the phrase itself, and the way it’s received, reveals a great deal about our perception of strength.
I’ve realized that personifying the words strength and resilience unveils this nuance.
Just as it should be. No assembly required. What happens, will happen here.
Gazing out at the horizon stirs something in us. Its tractor beam like qualities lure us to its ever-changing appearance. If only we could get there. But why? What is so enticing about this harmonious union of land, water and sky?
An interesting thing has been happening since I wrote Help last week. People have been coming forward and sharing their personal struggles and difficult feelings with me. Which is great! I mean, that was a big reason why I wrote the post. Openly talking about the tough stuff takes the pressure off. It relieves the facade of needing to be perfect that is so prevalent in today’s society.
But, I want to make something clear. Just because my struggle, cancer, tends to seem more serious, doesn’t make your struggle any less real or any less important. Many of the conversations I’ve had, have gone something like this, “I know it doesn’t compare to anything that you’re going through, but I feel the same way” or “what you’re going through is way harder than anything I’m experiencing”. I appreciate the sentiment and recognition of the serious nature of my situation. But please don’t get caught downplaying yours. I don’t want anyone to think my problem is somehow superior to yours. Because it’s not. Your situation, your struggle is just as equally important. It’s not a competition of who suffers more. It’s about relating to the commonality within us all.
This post is for the feelers. The people, like me, who feel things so deeply that sometimes they wish they could turn them off.
The traditional definition of progress limits our thinking, leaving us with a narrow belief about what progress actually looks like. This constricted belief makes it seem like progress should be a straight line up and to the right.
I was flipping through my journal the other day, and came across this entry from last year.
Giving advice is messy. There’s no one size fits all. It’s difficult to throw a blanket over every possible situation, yet, this is exactly what we look for. In today’s soundbite driven world, nuance is forsaken. Nuance doesn’t sell, it’s not catchy.
Although, I’m not sure how much of this “soundbite advice” is even possible. Yeah, it sounds good to speak matter of factly. However, these suggestions are not always practical. In this post I’m going to take the other side of some popular “soundbite advice” I see given all the time.
A few days ago I got my 12 month CML reading. It was a good report, not ideal, but still good. Due to a lab malfunction, the results took much longer than anticipated. Man, what a lesson in patience.
I’d love to tell you how un-phased I was, that I was cool as a cucumber, and not worried at all. That would be a lie. I felt like I was walking through a mental marsh for 2 weeks. All the various outcomes, and their implications, were on loop inside my brain.
