Personal growth.
You realize there is something in your life that you want to change.
You’re aware of it for months or years. You do a ton of work.
That thing you want to change doesn’t budge.
Some other things get better – you’re more authentic, less reactive.
But that thing you would really like to change? Still there.
Instagram has me pegged as a privileged person who can sometimes be convinced to buy away my guilt over my carbon footprint and that of my family. A swarm of ads for compostable toothbrushes, reusable silicone ziplock baggies, and earth-friendly dish detergent regularly pop up on my feed to remind me that I could be doing better.
Egged on by this, when I ran out of face wash over the summer, I stood in Target feeling paralyzed by the options and annoyed that every one of them came in a plastic container that fell in the grey area of recyclability.
I reluctantly asked an employee if there were any face wash options that didn’t come in a plastic container. She shrugged. I left without buying anything.
This past spring, I learned there would be a Mindful Making Retreat about an hour away from me, co-taught by Katrina Rodabaugh and Meg McElwee. I’ve made a number of Meg’s patterns this spring and summer and have been gradually embracing the idea of slowing my sewing down and making it more of a practice than a drive.
That has been a process. My typical M.O. is to bring all my other responsibilities to a halt, let my children run feral, and whip up a top or a pair of shorts as quickly as possible.
It was late in the day and I had just given myself permission not to do an evening meditation when Three knocked at my door.
She asked if we could do a meditation together.
Trying to find a socially acceptable way to discharge negative emotions has been a lifelong quest for me.
As a high schooler, after watching the 1989 movie Dead Poets Society, I would regularly yawp out in nature when things got to be too much.
Since then, I’ve discovered swimming, live music, and waterfalls. All of those things are weather- and location-dependent, or “subject to availability.”
Sometimes I can let it all out in a meditation. I can’t plan an outcome for a meditation and expect success. That isn’t how it works for me. Often, when I’m at my most stressed, I’m also at my lowest functioning, and it’s really hard to be clear-headed about my options for de-escalation.
Have you been there?
