Mind games: a little story about self talk

You know my good weather months’ obsession is tennis.

Thank God Craig convinced me to start playing again just a few summers ago. I’d finally healed from two frozen shoulders (thanks, menopause), and I realized that it was ridiculous not to be playing out of some fear of getting hurt. When you can’t move your arms fully for almost two years, your perspective alters a bit ((cough)).

As I’ve said before, when I’m on the court, there is nothing else. There’s me and my racket and the ball and the court… there are lines and weather and sometimes other people but that’s it. My mind is only right there. I’m not thinking about anything but what’s right in front of me.

It is a relief, to say the least, in this world to have something like this… a refuge of sweat and heat and trying. But there is nothing truly important. Nothing scary.

That’s not to say it’s all sunshine and happiness.

Not even close. I’m intense on the court (and I’m thinking you’re thinking… where are you not?).

Let’s say it this way: I am at my MOST intense on a tennis court.

A little story…

The last few times we’ve played together, Craig and I have both been consistently getting much better. There are long rallies where every hit comes with the musical (to my ears) sound of the ball hitting the sweet spot.

I’ve been hitting harder and more consistent than ever and I had finally gotten my down-the-line backhand back.

I was working more and more at the net. (Which I love… because aggressive.)

To be clear, with every miss, I am constantly analyzing what I did wrong. I am always coaching myself and I am very often coaching Craig.

I’m a teacher, right?

Finally… to this last time we were playing

After all those days of improvement, I was playing horribly.

And my self talk matched that. I was analyzing and criticizing to the max.

For the first time, I think ever in my life, I almost threw my racket.

This was beyond my fun mad into real mad.

I sat for a moment to get my heart rate down and watched Craig practice some serves and I realized…

When I am teaching others, I am all about positive reinforcement. If you’ve been in class with me, you know how much I’m yelling things like “BEAUTIFUL, EVERYONE!”

And I will take a moment after a song to highlight someone doing something brand new or astonishing.

Change my words to change my mind to change my body

But when it comes to how I teach/deal with myself, things are always different.

I never tell myself I’m doing well — only that I could do better. (Thanks to early learning…)

So I got up from resting and immediately changed my self talk.

Over and over, I said to myself in a whisper, “You are REALLY GOOD AT THIS!” I said it like I would say it to a student or a friend or my younger self.

Then I added, “You are really good at this. You are so strong. And you have so much fucking stamina!”

Over and over and over and over…

And IMMEDIATELY, as in the FIRST shot, I started playing better… more like myself.

For our last bit of play, I never stopped talking to myself like that, and now I never will because the results were immediate and undeniable.

Now to take that off the court…

Practice as safe space

I used to tell people (when I was first embarking on this somatic dance journey and felt like I had just conquered two Mount Everests in a row by dancing my way to the least amount of depression in my life that I had ever known)… I used to tell people that their own bodies in the now were their safe space. Because right this minute, nothing is happening.

I still believe we can get to that point and that it also fluctuates depending on psychological triggers, freaking life life-ing, and things like overall health and the weather and so many other variables.

But… and this is a big but… your body as safe space just doesn’t work for a lot of people and it never will.

What do I mean by safe space?

Safe spaces are places and people in which and with whom we can be totally ourselves and be held with care. This can mean that we are tolerated through annoying times ((ha)), witnessed during big changes, and encouraged in growth. It can also mean we are called out on our own bullshit but we know that calling out is coming at us with love and compassion.

Safe spaces and people are not all sunshine and rainbows. Spaces that are too sweet are actually not safe, because the number one component of safe space (and people) is honesty.

If our bodies cannot be these safe spaces, where does that leave us?

What are the other options?

Movement As safe space

This is another tricksy one.

As I have said for a very long time: as long as there is breath, there is dance.

And I believe that. To my core. I have watched people with very little mobility left find so much beautiful dance.

But to say that movement itself is a safe space is unrealistic in light of what many will encounter via disease and aging.

Movement as safe space can feel like an insult in those contexts.

Of course, we too narrowly define movement and that is a large part of the issue, but that narrow definition is how most people understand it. To lose our favorite way of moving can be devastating and transitioning to a new way of understanding movement can take many years if it happens at all.

So no, movement itself is not the safe space we’re looking for.

Community as safe space

Ugh. Sadly this one can be too… fragile, too changeable, too… unrealiable.

Communities are made of humans and humans are unpredictable and we need something somewhat predictable when it comes to creating safe space.

That’s not to say that some communities are not our safe spaces. I myself have a few communities that I would put in this category, but even then, I have experienced moments when it didn’t feel that way. (Luckily they were safe enough to even contain those moments and move beyond them.)

And the grief that comes with dissolution of or betrayal within community is intense. Not safe (or at least not always).

Practice as safe space

After all of these years of observing all of these phenomenon, I have finally come to practice as safe space.

Practice as safe space contains all the other possibilities — bodies, movement, communities, other individuals.

Practice is malleable over our lifetimes but it also (when approached in the way I mean) is a constant companion, even as it and we change.

Practice is devotion to your own awareness and a commitment to living a life of noticing and learning and growing.

Your practices may change but you doing them does not. You coming to them in times of joy and grief does not. And though it may be profoundly challenging to maintain, your practices truly are your safe space — where you can fully meet yourself, challenge yourself, and learn an ever deepening love of yourself and therefore of others.

We are safe in our practices so that we can go out and meet a world that is often unsafe. We then go back to our practices for repair and rejuvenation to be effective in our lives. And that cycle goes on and on…

"Giving up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul"

That quote has stuck with me from this video. Though almost every single sentence he drops is like a sparkling gem. This video is worth your time… more than once, I’m betting.

The world has me feeling quiet

From a class I just taught at the Columbus Museum of Art. The joy in this felt right in a post about Andrea.

Words come less easily lately. I am stunned into silence by this world we’re living in. My heart aches but that is often covered over by so much red hot anger that I forget how much it is actually my softness that is suffering.

I will try to get back to writing more regularly because I have lists and lists of things I want to put words to. And I know if I write about what really matters to me that over time more words will come…

For now, I am, like so many on this planet, grieving the loss of poet Andrea Gibson. They were a gift to us.

And this … the last line especially… feels like something everyone should read:

“My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. It’s Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living.”

— Andrea Gibson

I don't remember the last time...

… I was interviewed for a podcast. (A side note: I would LOVE to do more of this… so if you know anyone looking for guests, please let me know.)

Brandi and I have been connected for a long time so it made this interview feel like two good friends getting together for coffee (or a Hello Kitty bottle full of water as was my case). And when I say a long time, I mean a long time… like well over the 15 year mark.

We were both part of the early blogging community (and I miss those days, for sure).

Brandi is starting this podcast specifically to talk to other women about being artists/creators in mid life. I was 100% on board the second she said that.

You can find more about her and her own art on her website.

And here’s our time together. Remember that you can speed up playback so you cut the time down quite a bit.

A little teaser:

A formula for your experiment of one

A little preface to my main point

It seems right to share a photo from the time I wrote the words below

Since 2016 (and we all know what I’m referring to) it has felt like time makes no sense, the world gets darker and darker, and overall, our mental health has just been on a trajectory that, well, we’d prefer were different. Maybe I’m not speaking for you, but most people in my circles feel like they are somehow less than a version of themselves that existed pre-2016.

I am less in my fit dancer body, that’s for sure. I’m less joyful and less giggley. And my god, I really do believe this timeline has aged us faster than we would have otherwise.

And on top of all of that, I actually feel less smart. Maybe it’s all the stupidity and ignorance and cruelty that has permeated our culture and it’s bound to somehow affect each and every one of us whether we are those things or not.

But when I look back at my pre-2016 memories, I sure do seem smarter. I seem more joyful even when I was going through something difficult… I could see that there was some sort of meaning to be extracted, some sort of growth I could get from it.

So when I share this, it might even make part of you mad, but I would suggest that’s the part of you (and me) that has been so deeply traumatized over the last … oh my god ALMOST DECADE living with these monsters among us.

I wrote this formula from so many years of my own experimentation, and the beauty of it is that it’s a framework but you fill in the deets.

A formula for your experiment of one

There is no one path to health after chronic developmental trauma, from which so many unconsciously suffer. But there ARE some very basic building blocks that we KNOW help and that constitute a pretty damn good formula as far as formulas go.

First, movement. Period. You have to move every day. This is essential for basic human vitality but for someone attempting to recover their brain it becomes fundamental. We have excellent science behind what movement does for the brain, and there is, literally, nothing like it. It's imperative that you find movement that you ENJOY. Anything less will not last and will not have the results. And? Healthy movement leads to HEALTHY rest, which most people do not get. They get too much rest and it's of the not-restful variety so then they think they need more. Nope. MOVE.

Second, nutrition. Because movement every day must be supported by your nutrition. But your brain also responds to what you put in your body (duh, right? but not so much in the mainstream medical community). Play with your diet. Go in with no assumptions. See what makes you feel ALIVE and full of energy. Don't let anyone tell you to eat in any way that does not support those outcomes. Don't let anyone guilt you into any other way of eating that does not match your needs.

Third, aside from nutrition, WATER. Most people I know are dehydrated and there are some physicians who are starting to (oh, the radical!) notice that dementia is not about aging but about dehydration plus...guess what? Decreased movement.

Fourth, and this is something a lot of people don't think about: Spirituality, which is another word for Deep Connection. Find a connection to something bigger than you, bigger than the trauma, because trauma creates disconnect and makes us feel like we are special in a bad way. We're not.

Yep. That's a formula. If you did all those things EVERY DAY with intention, I guarantee (yes, I said that) that your brain and then your life would change.

Back to the present

All these years later, this really does hold. And please pay attention to my wording. I was super careful back then about how I said these things and it matters to this day.

How small things can bring big results

An extra beautiful bouquet that Cat Daddy brought home a couple of weeks ago.

My new morning routine is to NOT lie in bed and drown in news, but instead, I listen to a Chani meditation or teaching (I have the paid app and it's super worth it, FYI), and then I get up, put on my damn leggings, and do a Japanese slow jog on my treadmill while I watch a podcast. (A little something about that technique.)

Here's the thing: I only do this for 10 minutes. It's all I can convince myself to do at this point. (And I do the jog thing because I have learned from SO LONG of trying that my body does not want to be creative first thing... it takes me a while to really wake up. I’ve tried waking and dancing first thing and it only leads to frustration.)

Here's the other thing: IT IS DOING THINGS TO MY BRAIN.

I've always preached that it can be as simple as one song. But the part that's left out with that is the sweat.

You have to sweat. One song can be enough to alter your brain chemistry a bit but you have to dance vigorously and get a bit of a sweat on. (And the more minutes, the better over time... that's just reality.)

OR you can dance to one song and SING LOUDLY and that will affect your brain without you needing to really sweat. That's why car singing on the way to work can make such a difference for people.

Why? THE BREATH. It's pretty much all about the breath and getting those lungs pumping -- sweating and/or singing will both do that.

And doing this first thing in the morning is, of course, setting me up for a bit of a better day.

It's not enough to totally deal with the intensity of my depression but it gives me the bit of chemistry to make better decisions later in the day. If I start my day with movement, I’m more likely to move more throughout the day. And then over time, cumulatively, my brain will get better and better.

But for now, ten minutes can have a domino effect. You can surely find ten minutes. We do all kinds of mind numbing things for ten minutes… watch TV, just sit and rot, scroll on our phones.

It’s hard, though, to make different choices. And it’s a bit of pain in the ass that making better choices leads to making more better choices. ((sigh))

As I’ve said before, there’s no magicks but in

The mystery of willpower and the battle of depression

Begonia Yuki is now three.

You get to a certain point in depression where your willpower switch actually gets flipped. I'm super simplifying but there's a neuro-chemical thing that happens and you literally stop having access to that "push yourself" thing that could be helpful.

This is where meds can be super helpful but alas I am medication resistant so...

I've been in that space of no “push” for quite some time. I do what needs to be done but that's it.

And I have no clue how to turn this around for anyone, including myself, but right now a turning is happening and I'm looking back trying to discern what it was for me (FOR ME).

First steps

I think it somehow goes back to tracking my food and realizing how much I was emotionally eating. Doing that was an interesting enough experiment that I was able to stick with it and I have kept going because it remains interesting. (Experiments are the nutrition of my brain and life... if I'm in that mode, I am at my best and happiest... curious and fascinated is my healthy spot.)

And something about THAT has led to some other small things...

And then suddenly! (Doesn't it always seem like that?) over the weekend, I could really feel the switch moving back to "on."

This morning I laid in bed and watched my asshole brain trying to convince me to stay in bed until the thing I HAD to do... and it was interesting because I could just watch it... as I got up and did the new things I've committed to.

Now sharing this feels scary, right? Depression brain tells me that this is just a blip...

OH! I remember now! A huge part of this was me announcing on Sunday evening that I was going to start really PUSHING HARD through the "I don't want to" ... that I could no longer be gentle with myself, because IN MY CASE, gentle is draining my life from me... slowly...

And there really is something magical in telling others "Hey! Can you check in once in a while? I'm trying to..."

We are communal.

The fight

This post is a bit all over the place but I want to emphasize something here that I didn’t when I first wrote most of this in the Circle of Trees: the fight.

Depression is a liar and a thief.

If a liar and a thief broke into your home, would you just sit there and rest?

Here’s the thing: if someone broke into my house that would mean my cats were in danger and you can bet you’d see proof that I am not a passifist.

So why when it comes to my own self do I allow this lying and thieving of my goodness, creativity, essence?

Of course, depression is complicated, and as I said at the top, we can lose motivation and I have no idea how to get it back.

But once you feel even just a bit of that motivation… even just a shadow of it, it’s time to start fighting. And you must fight hard.

You have to dig in. And you have to focus on the things around you — cats, people you love, work that matters — and promise those things that you will continue to fight.

That’s where I am… I’ve got my boxing gloves on and I’m trying to beat the crap out of that intruder.