I've been a massive fan of Sarah Wilson's for ages. Pre IQS days, pre book days. I was once feeling incredibly stressed and anxious at work and a workmate directed me to her blog (to this post, to be specific) and I've been following her ever since. There's a certain honesty to her writing and approach that I admire, and I love that she's doing her own things - authentically.
And now she's written a book:
There's a lot of things to love about the book. The cover is cute as a button. Her writing style is straight to the reader. It's full of actual facts - science-y ones! With real research! There are times you think she's INSIDE YOUR MIND. For those of us who dance with anxiety, that is.
The premise of this book is that you can turn your anxiety into a lovely, useful thing and live with it - and that's a great reason to read it alone. But I loved it was full of no nonsense ideas for people like us. Meditate. Have a morning routine. Be kind. But more accurately, it describes phenomena that I know we all feel - the racing mind, that just won't stop. The feeling or need to be always 'doing something.' Human being v. human doing.
You can read about the book in Wilson's own words here. But I can't recommend this book highly enough. If you're worrier, a non sleeping tosser and turner, a perfectionist thinking you need to get it all right. This book is for you.
Tuesday, 21 March 2017
Sunday, 10 January 2016
How To Stay Sane.
Oh brother, have the last 48 hours not been my best.
Pregnancy can be a really alienating experience in many ways. I'm fortunate to have an unbelievably supportive partner and amazing friends who have made the journey really lovely and made me feel all warm and supported and full of excitement. But some days, particularly when I'm feeling some of the not-so-desirable symptoms of pregnancy (which I'll refrain from sharing with you, dear reader, because I'm sure you have a delicate constitution), it can feel like I'm slogging it out totally alone. Your body is feeling not so fab (especially if you are a person for whom exercise, healthy eating and feeling healthy and rested is of the utmost importance), and your brain goes into overdrive (I feel awful! If I feel like this now, how am I going to go with a baby? What if I can't cope? I hate feeling tired! I AM LOSING MY MIND).
This morning my lovely partner said to me 'yes, you feel like crap, but you're not crap. It's the difference between 'I feel bad' and 'I AM bad'. Notwithstanding that my husband had a pretty big night last night (so extra points for morning after, hungover philosophy which I could never muster up after a night on the tiles), this statement really resonated with me. I've been so caught up in my own head! It's really easy to confuse the transitory nature of thoughts and feelings with a sense of permanence (particularly if you have spent some of your evening tossing and turning and/or vomiting). I find I do this a lot - we all do - by confusing how we feel now with how we'll feel forever, and then spiralling into anxiety about the future.
Similarly, my best friend this afternoon (also hungover, hmm) gently informed me that there's very little point worrying now about whether or not I'll feel tired and overwhelmed when the baby comes. I probably will feel tired and overwhelmed at some points. Maybe not so much at other points. But there's certainly not much I can do about it now, right?
I picked up (read: stole from a mate's house) this little number this afternoon which sums this all up quite nicely (well, I think it does. I haven't quite finished it yet. You can get it here ).
As I say, I'm only a little way in, but it talks about the difference between feeling and being. In it, Phillipa Perry invites the reader to regularly take stock by engaging in what she calls a 'grounding exercise' which allows us to increase our self observation. To engage the grounding exercise, we effectively ask ourselves these questions:
I'll be following this practice for a week to see what impact it has. I'll report back next week! In other news, I'll be using this space for some more creative writing over the coming weeks (as opposed to random warbling), so look out!
Pregnancy can be a really alienating experience in many ways. I'm fortunate to have an unbelievably supportive partner and amazing friends who have made the journey really lovely and made me feel all warm and supported and full of excitement. But some days, particularly when I'm feeling some of the not-so-desirable symptoms of pregnancy (which I'll refrain from sharing with you, dear reader, because I'm sure you have a delicate constitution), it can feel like I'm slogging it out totally alone. Your body is feeling not so fab (especially if you are a person for whom exercise, healthy eating and feeling healthy and rested is of the utmost importance), and your brain goes into overdrive (I feel awful! If I feel like this now, how am I going to go with a baby? What if I can't cope? I hate feeling tired! I AM LOSING MY MIND).
This morning my lovely partner said to me 'yes, you feel like crap, but you're not crap. It's the difference between 'I feel bad' and 'I AM bad'. Notwithstanding that my husband had a pretty big night last night (so extra points for morning after, hungover philosophy which I could never muster up after a night on the tiles), this statement really resonated with me. I've been so caught up in my own head! It's really easy to confuse the transitory nature of thoughts and feelings with a sense of permanence (particularly if you have spent some of your evening tossing and turning and/or vomiting). I find I do this a lot - we all do - by confusing how we feel now with how we'll feel forever, and then spiralling into anxiety about the future.
Similarly, my best friend this afternoon (also hungover, hmm) gently informed me that there's very little point worrying now about whether or not I'll feel tired and overwhelmed when the baby comes. I probably will feel tired and overwhelmed at some points. Maybe not so much at other points. But there's certainly not much I can do about it now, right?
I picked up (read: stole from a mate's house) this little number this afternoon which sums this all up quite nicely (well, I think it does. I haven't quite finished it yet. You can get it here ).
As I say, I'm only a little way in, but it talks about the difference between feeling and being. In it, Phillipa Perry invites the reader to regularly take stock by engaging in what she calls a 'grounding exercise' which allows us to increase our self observation. To engage the grounding exercise, we effectively ask ourselves these questions:
“What am I feeling now?”
“What am I thinking now?”
“What am I doing at this moment?”
“How am I breathing?”
“What do I want for myself in this moment?
I'll be following this practice for a week to see what impact it has. I'll report back next week! In other news, I'll be using this space for some more creative writing over the coming weeks (as opposed to random warbling), so look out!
Sunday, 3 January 2016
Owning my decisions...
I'm not really one for New Year's resolutions. I don't need the looming date of 1 January to remind me of all the things I could / should / would do better in life, and besides, they always seem a bit arbitrary to me (Get healthy! Learn Japanese! Take up pottery!).
Something that I had considered as 2015 drew to a close was the concept of owning my decisions, which has now formed the basis of a resolution of sorts for 2016. I was finding (in many facets of my life) that I was falling victim to my decisions, rather than accepting that the decision making process is an active process of which I can take total ownership.
Some examples - attending engagements that I don't want to attend, and then complaining about being there, doing household chores and then being pissed that my partner wasn't showing more gratitude, working longer hours or taking on more at work and feeling annoyed that I wasn't receiving more recognition).
I had a bit of an 'aha' moment with all of this in late November. I'd had a rough day at work, and then tried to practice some self care by leaving early to go to the gym (only to get held up from my early departure by matters that I perceived as being beyond my control). I was so frustrated, and as I sobbed down the freeway (and missed the gym!), I noticed the following thought patterns:
Why does this always happen to me?
Why can't anyone see that this is having a negative impact on me?
Why can't that person / persons sort out their own problems?
This is when it hit me - I'm an active participant in all of these goings-on because I have chosen to be. These things aren't 'happening' to me - I'm making decisions to engage in scenarios when I simply don't have to. I don't 'have' to go work. I don't 'have' to go to the gym. I don't 'have' to cook dinner. I don't 'have' to do anything.
I am choosing these things. And, if I am willing to accept the consequences, I can choose not to as well.
So, for 2016, I'm owning my decisions.
Something that I had considered as 2015 drew to a close was the concept of owning my decisions, which has now formed the basis of a resolution of sorts for 2016. I was finding (in many facets of my life) that I was falling victim to my decisions, rather than accepting that the decision making process is an active process of which I can take total ownership.
Some examples - attending engagements that I don't want to attend, and then complaining about being there, doing household chores and then being pissed that my partner wasn't showing more gratitude, working longer hours or taking on more at work and feeling annoyed that I wasn't receiving more recognition).
I had a bit of an 'aha' moment with all of this in late November. I'd had a rough day at work, and then tried to practice some self care by leaving early to go to the gym (only to get held up from my early departure by matters that I perceived as being beyond my control). I was so frustrated, and as I sobbed down the freeway (and missed the gym!), I noticed the following thought patterns:
Why does this always happen to me?
Why can't anyone see that this is having a negative impact on me?
Why can't that person / persons sort out their own problems?
This is when it hit me - I'm an active participant in all of these goings-on because I have chosen to be. These things aren't 'happening' to me - I'm making decisions to engage in scenarios when I simply don't have to. I don't 'have' to go work. I don't 'have' to go to the gym. I don't 'have' to cook dinner. I don't 'have' to do anything.
I am choosing these things. And, if I am willing to accept the consequences, I can choose not to as well.
So, for 2016, I'm owning my decisions.
Monday, 27 July 2015
A beautiful quote to spur you on ....
I read this quote over a year ago, from Robyn Davidson. I actually try to think about it over and over, to remind myself that it's OK when I feel daunted, scared, sad....
There's only one skill, really, or rather one skill subsumes all the others: the ability to take the first step, and then the next one, and then just keep going. It is surprisingly difficult to acquire such an apparently simple skill. Being human, we tend to confuse the first step with the whole journey and our courage fails. We see all the difficulty and problems ahead, magnified in the imagination, instead of looking at the group in front. We baulk at that first little step, and nothing is achieved.
As I navigate the first, fledgling steps on unknown roads in few different areas of my life, I reflect on this. It's really, really difficult (especially for anxious people like me) to turn off the scary voice of doom and ignore the distance between here and where we would like to be, and to simply just move on calmly, blissfully and without panic. I think that we all conflate the first step with the whole journey - I think this is probably how countless plans, projects, businesses, ideas and pursuits end up in the scrap heap before they've commenced - they've been sabotaged at the outset by our wonderful but very sneaky brains. I often wonder why this is the case, and can only assume (for my part at least) that for some of us, it's our brain trying to prevent us from taking a risk, from accepting that we may fail.
One thing I've found particularly effective at knocking this little phenomenon on the head is to consider how far we've come, when we feel daunted. To think about all our big and small achievements and use them as arsenal to propel ourselves forward on those days that taking even the first step feels too difficult.
x
There's only one skill, really, or rather one skill subsumes all the others: the ability to take the first step, and then the next one, and then just keep going. It is surprisingly difficult to acquire such an apparently simple skill. Being human, we tend to confuse the first step with the whole journey and our courage fails. We see all the difficulty and problems ahead, magnified in the imagination, instead of looking at the group in front. We baulk at that first little step, and nothing is achieved.
As I navigate the first, fledgling steps on unknown roads in few different areas of my life, I reflect on this. It's really, really difficult (especially for anxious people like me) to turn off the scary voice of doom and ignore the distance between here and where we would like to be, and to simply just move on calmly, blissfully and without panic. I think that we all conflate the first step with the whole journey - I think this is probably how countless plans, projects, businesses, ideas and pursuits end up in the scrap heap before they've commenced - they've been sabotaged at the outset by our wonderful but very sneaky brains. I often wonder why this is the case, and can only assume (for my part at least) that for some of us, it's our brain trying to prevent us from taking a risk, from accepting that we may fail.
One thing I've found particularly effective at knocking this little phenomenon on the head is to consider how far we've come, when we feel daunted. To think about all our big and small achievements and use them as arsenal to propel ourselves forward on those days that taking even the first step feels too difficult.
x
Thursday, 16 July 2015
Things that give me joy...
Post work out highs.
When my dogs do something super silly (like tonight when Holly saw one of our neighbours come home with pizza and followed them into their apartment).
Nice smelling candles.
Brunch, with newspaper.
My husband.
Bliss balls.
Fabulous books, especially history books.
Watching my godson play.
Magazines.
My friends.
Words With Friends. Seriously addictive.
Salt water.
Sheets air dried (not happening this time of year).
When my dogs do something super silly (like tonight when Holly saw one of our neighbours come home with pizza and followed them into their apartment).
Nice smelling candles.
Brunch, with newspaper.
My husband.
Bliss balls.
Fabulous books, especially history books.
Watching my godson play.
Magazines.
My friends.
Words With Friends. Seriously addictive.
Salt water.
Sheets air dried (not happening this time of year).
Monday, 27 April 2015
The power of friendship
It's so easy to forget sometimes, but I have lately found myself thinking of how lucky I am to have a such a tight knit, close, and wonderful circle of friends as I do.
Don't get me wrong, I often ponder this and marvel at having such amazing friendships but lately, it's been really hitting me hard - in the good way.
A number of people in my circle of friends are going through some serious changes and challenges at the moment - some good, some tragic and sad, but the one consistent theme for me is how we all rally around each other when we need to offer support and love, in whatever form that may take.
I often forget that some people don't have that - people who would drop everything if they need it.
x
Don't get me wrong, I often ponder this and marvel at having such amazing friendships but lately, it's been really hitting me hard - in the good way.
A number of people in my circle of friends are going through some serious changes and challenges at the moment - some good, some tragic and sad, but the one consistent theme for me is how we all rally around each other when we need to offer support and love, in whatever form that may take.
I often forget that some people don't have that - people who would drop everything if they need it.
x
Saturday, 18 April 2015
Coudla, shoulda, woulda.
I can't remember if I've posted on this topic before, but sometimes I really detest the word 'should' and the role it plays in life.
Today, Michael and I have been married for six months. And it's been wonderful. After training this morning and running some errands, I wanted to spend the day in bed with him watching Masters of Sex and reading.
But sure enough, as I got the laptop fired up and prepared by stack of magazines by the bed, it started.
You should spend this time working on your business instead of slacking off.
Don't you have some chores to do? You should be doing those right now.
Are you really going to spend the day in bed? You should be blogging.
I call these guys the 'shouldas'.
Does this happen to anyone else? It's really insidious and to my mind, inextricably linked with guilt. Guilt for the things you should have done, guilt for the things you should be doing, guilt for the things that you wish you'd done later on.
In the end, it got too difficult and I gave up on my luxury day in bed. I oftentimes find on weekends if I give myself an opportunity to relax, the shouldas start up in my brain. I sometimes sit down to rest or read on weekends and end up napping. Whether this is a sign that I'm exhausted, or whether it's the only way for my body to ignore the 'shouldas' in brain, I don't know.
I often wonder if this affects highly ambitious or effective people. People who have lots of plans, goals, lists, ambitions. For those people, the shouldas are their voices calling the to action to get working on the life they want and dream of and telling them they shouldn't be complacent.
I realised today is that all the plans and goals in the world are pretty unattainable if I don't let myself off the hook now and then. When you keep thrashing yourself, it becomes harder and harder to achieve the things on that big life list.
That was the most frustrating thing about today - a day earmarked for rest and relaxation, which felt anything but.
So how do we turn that voice off? How to get to a point where we aren't a slave to the shouldas in our lives?
x
Today, Michael and I have been married for six months. And it's been wonderful. After training this morning and running some errands, I wanted to spend the day in bed with him watching Masters of Sex and reading.
But sure enough, as I got the laptop fired up and prepared by stack of magazines by the bed, it started.
You should spend this time working on your business instead of slacking off.
Don't you have some chores to do? You should be doing those right now.
Are you really going to spend the day in bed? You should be blogging.
I call these guys the 'shouldas'.
Does this happen to anyone else? It's really insidious and to my mind, inextricably linked with guilt. Guilt for the things you should have done, guilt for the things you should be doing, guilt for the things that you wish you'd done later on.
In the end, it got too difficult and I gave up on my luxury day in bed. I oftentimes find on weekends if I give myself an opportunity to relax, the shouldas start up in my brain. I sometimes sit down to rest or read on weekends and end up napping. Whether this is a sign that I'm exhausted, or whether it's the only way for my body to ignore the 'shouldas' in brain, I don't know.
I often wonder if this affects highly ambitious or effective people. People who have lots of plans, goals, lists, ambitions. For those people, the shouldas are their voices calling the to action to get working on the life they want and dream of and telling them they shouldn't be complacent.
I realised today is that all the plans and goals in the world are pretty unattainable if I don't let myself off the hook now and then. When you keep thrashing yourself, it becomes harder and harder to achieve the things on that big life list.
That was the most frustrating thing about today - a day earmarked for rest and relaxation, which felt anything but.
So how do we turn that voice off? How to get to a point where we aren't a slave to the shouldas in our lives?
x
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)