Some Help is Needed When It's Needed Until It's Not

Beach one, May 11th

(Note: this is about me. It’s not about you. It’s about ME unless you also need it to be about you. If you don’t need it, then it’s not about you. Got it? We are each an experiment of one. PERIOD.)

Yesterday when I visited the lake, she was so changeable. From minute to minute, her color and the light across her surface was different. It was hard to stop taking photos, trying to capture each iteration.

We’re so much more like that lake than we like to admit.

We want things to be steady and constant. It feels good to imagine that we’ve arrived somewhere and that’s that.

But, of course, life is change. We are change. Our very identity is not a consistent thing but ever-evolving.

So, for example, when I found an anti-depressant that helped me, I assumed that was it… forever. But…

I’ve spent a long time in this life trying to heal myself with no help. It’s part stubborn and part stupid and just wholly unnecessary. We’re not meant to be 100% individuated. We’re part of a large ecosystem that includes all other humans and all other life.

There’s got to be a reason for that. Pure and simple. And that reason is that we aren’t as strong as we could be until we tap into the larger, vaster, deeper wisdom, until we partake of the infinite tools that are at our disposal.

We can only know so much. The larger ecosystem knows it all and we can plug in any time. We should plug in all the time, actually.

So when my depression got extra bad about a year and a half ago, I finally listened to the people who love me and I got help. I went on medication and I got into therapy.

That medication felt like a fucking miracle…. no. It WAS a fucking miracle.

The dark and often veering toward suicidal thinking was just GONE. POOF! Like that!

It was CHEMICAL all ALONG, I kept yelling at people. I walked around in amazement at this new found fact.

I needed that medicine like we all need oxygen. I was in trouble and that medicine saved me.

I walked around for months feeling brand new and then I started to notice, well, that it didn’t feel as miraculous any more. I didn’t feel the dark brain coming back to life but the light that had entered was definitely dimming.

I got put on a helper med. It didn’t really. I started to think that the helper med was all I needed, and the first med was something I didn’t want to be on long term, so I stopped. That worked out fine.

Until I noticed that nothing good was really coming of the second med either. I can’t tell you HOW I knew this. I just did. I knew I didn’t need anything any more.

I accidentally missed an evening dose and nothing horrible happened so I continued missing evening doses and then every other day morning doses and then I was off.

And dark brain was still nowhere to be felt. (Of course, I am still prone to despairing but LOOK AT THE WORLD. This is normal right now and it doesn’t come with suicidal thinking.)

Dark brain was nowhere to be felt and other stuff started to happen…

I heard the laughter that comes out of me when I’m actually happy and relaxed. I know it because it reminds instantly of my toddler laugh. I just KNOW this laugh. It’s my core laugh.

I noticed that I was getting REALLY SILLY with my husband again. Like silly enough that he would give me these funny little looks that said, “who is this?” It’s been a while since this me has been around and I know it felt foreign (yet delightful) to him.

THEN…

We watched this movie (WATCH IT!!!!!!!), and a few minutes in, there is a scene at a local TV station with Chris O’Dowd in a very brief cameo. I started laughing and then I was LAUGHING and then I was just LOSING MY SHIT.

Every time I looked at Craig, I just laughed even harder. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t peeing our couch! My face felt like it might crack!

I thought Craig was laughing so hard because the movie was funny — and he was — but he was laughing THAT hard because he couldn’t get over my utter JOY.

Which stopped me in my tracks, right? I was feeling the deepest joy… I can’t remember when I last felt like that and I KNOW I haven’t laughed like that in probably 3 years. THREE. YEARS.

Which could make me sad but I don’t have time for that shit.

Along with my happy and silly brain, being off those meds means my creative and ACTIVE brain are on OVERDRIVE.

My point… sometimes you need meds… and then sometimes you stop needing them.

If you don’t stop needing them, so what? You need them and we are grateful you have them. As I was grateful when I thought nothing could possibly help.

Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Stuff

During the filming of the grief piece which I’ve still not edited even though my schedule is, well, lighter than ever. (see post below)

What time is it? What day is it? What month are we in? How long have we been in this lockdown thing? When will things go back to “normal?” What is “normal?”

Time has become, for sure, something very wibbly wobbly.

I’ve been pretty much in charge of my own schedule for many years. But I had a SCHEDULE. I even used a planner (what the hell is that?!).

I had places to go, people to meet with, things that had to be done by certain times. I had to GO SOMEWHERE to teach my classes. I would form my day around that and then squeeze in the gym or boxing, walking, coffee and writing, errands.

Now all those markers are gone.

It feels like suddenly being plunged into the middle of the ocean when you’re used to living on the shore and diving in and out when you need or want to.

It’s uncomfortable. It can even be scary.

“WHERE THE HELL DID MY DAY GO? WHAT DID I DO?”

I say that a lot. I don’t like the feeling. It all makes me angry and sad and then lethargic. Then I bounce back and start over, still wondering what day it is.

And you?

Another question: is this feeling temporary (of course it is) and are we actually settling back into more body wisdom based understandings of time and our lives?

MELTDOWN!

I'm quite certain I'm not alone...

Thursday was rough. I had a pretty big panic/anxiety meltdown, and I felt paralyzed by it. I have a great helper, who knows how to talk to me, but I am still the one who has to figure out how to rise up out of that quicksand and Thursday...I felt pretty damn stuck in it.

During such a meltdown, of course, everything gets exaggerated and nothing feels like it could possibly help.

All the tools in your toolbox suddenly seem like GIANT JOKES existing only to prove how awful you are or how little hope there is in the world.

Eventually I dragged myself off the bed.

During times like this, even *I* CANNOT bring myself to dance. It's THE tool, but even I just cannot.

BUT I can do other smaller things. If I can get myself to start with the idea of just 5 minutes of pilates -- something concrete and directed -- that can turn into so much more as the healthy brain chemistry starts to reassert itself.

Thursday, that was exactly what happened. I started with a video of 25 minutes of pilates (with no promise that I would finish).

Why a video? I need someone else guiding me; I can't possibly do this myself when I am feeling that badly.

From there, I moved onto a 10 minute core video.

THEN, only then, after 35 minutes of soaking my brain in some endorphins, was I able to approach some free movement, and even for that, I stayed on the floor.

I stayed on the floor and focused on my breathing and waiting and allowing and noticing.

The very basic principles of what I teach.

And as always, quite suddenly, I was fascinated by the workings of this body.

And as always, quite suddenly, I was out of the asshole brain and completely in the whole of myself.

Because here's the thing: your brain is just ONE ORGAN.

When we rely on it exclusively, we easily become rather dumb.

When we dive into the entirety of ourselves and tap into the wisdom of the full body ecosystem... that is the pathway out.

The Bullshit of Categories

There are a few different versions of this going around, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all misleading and have the potential to shame and you know how I feel about things that shame.

To think that a human can reside in ONE ZONE is ridiculous in the best of times.

To paraphrase Whitman, we contain multitudes.

At any one moment, part of me could be feeling fear around this pandemic while another part of me is busily diving back into a spiritual practice that is giving me hope and sustenance.

To think that we can move from one to the next and then to the next is just a JOKE.

It’s like that person that says to me, “Well, I’m pretty much done with the lower chakras and really working on my third eye and my crown.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

That person is in for a crash or will live in spiritual bypassing, one of the least spiritual places of all, for a very long time.

My overall point being: if you see things like this, yes, they might be helpful in showing you some potential red flags or challenges or they might help you see where your’e doing a good job, but other than that, pass on by.

You are doing GREAT.

Life is Change (said the control freak)

“Start by doing what is necessary, then what is possible, and suddenly you’re doing the impossible.”

— St. Francis

My view while I’m teaching via Skype and Facebook Live.

I’ve been offering things online — even live streaming — probably for almost 8 years, so that part of what’s happening was pretty easy for me to adjust to. And I don’t mind teaching online. I get to stay home in my little space and the overhead is, well, nothing.

It’s not been as easy for my local students who were used to being in the same room with each other. But they have learned/noticed rather quickly that community is community whether it’s 3D or not. The energy of our work is not dependent on proximity. It’s dependent upon trust and vulnerability.

But this is not to say I have not been challenged. I have been… BIG TIME.

This change has sent me (as I’m sure it has many) into a time of profound questioning.

What do I want to do in this world and why and how do I want to do it?

Am I spending my time well?

What if every moment of our time here really really matters (it does) and what it we treated it that way (we don’t)?

Recently, I had made some decisions about the “branding” of my work. (Branding is the word that works but it’s not my favorite.)

I’ve come to realize that those decisions were based in a fear about my own vulnerability.

I freaking TEACH people to allow vulnerability, to feel it, to know that it’s the only path to our truest expressions.

And I have discovered that I myself was still shying away from it.

I don’t think I would have noticed this so quickly if it hadn’t been for what we are going through collectively. I think I could have continued to fool myself about myself for quite some time.

But here we are…

Having our protective layers forcibly removed by circumstances.

Every generation has defining moments like this, and if we are lucky and if we are already a bit awake (though groggy), we will notice and we will evolve.

I’m trying to focus on the truth of that.

Social Spacing is Not Social Distancing

Today I went to the edge of our lake to breathe and think for a few moments. There were a couple of other people on the same beach, but they were well far away from me. Then as I was just starting to think about leaving, the man to my left started to move in my direction.

I must have looked like a flushed deer. I skittered and quickened all the while trying not to look like I was running. (I am teasing myself here so feel free to laugh.)

He yelled from behind me (well beyond 6 feet…too many feet for me to estimate), “Have a good day!” in a friendly and slightly amused voice. I waved to him and smiled, trying to convey, “Sorry… I’m not ACTUALLY crazy… just for right now.”

On my way home, I saw kids at the local ice cream eatery that opens on April 1st on the peninsula (locals know who I’m talking about) and they were working, setting things up, but a few were on break, in little huddles, chatting and laughing. HOW COULD THEY? was my immediate thought.

At a corner drugstore, 3 bikers in leather, smoking, stood within inches of each other talking and I had to work very hard not to yell out my window, “SIX FEET, IDIOTS!” (Yep…)

This is where many of us are right now… paranoid and scared and overwhelmed and so very anxious, tempers probably shorter than ever (at least in my case).

Because… we are social animals, regardless of introvert/extrovert distinctions.

…we need human touch to thrive.

…we need to be witnessed by other humans directly on a regular basis (hello, mirror neurons).

…we need to feel SAFE in our environments to create anything of real meaning over the long haul.

…and speaking of safety, so many of us feel truly triggered by the AnxiousAir we are breathing, feeding old anxieties and traumas and bringing many such things back from the dead where we had worked hard to relegate them.

Social distancing to our social animal selves is not easy. Period. We hunger for life to feel more normal, to not feel like there is a TIGER outside our door every time we need to go get food.

In the meantime, I’m trying to think of this more as social spacing.

Distancing feels too hard, too cold.

Spacing… okay… my personal space is definitely bigger than it is usually treated even when we’re not in this kind of situation so I can deal with that language.

Distancing, though, can easily become our reality if we allow it.

So try some of the following:

1. Check in with people who live alone. They are very vulnerable right now. Message, zoom, whatever.

2. Use all the tech we have for GOOD. Create Skype parties. Or SALONS… as in the old use of that word, people coming together to have meaningful discussions. Play games!

3. Get outside. Even if you have to look nuttily protective of your barriers like me.

4. Make sure you’re moving every day. There are so many resources online for this. Including me. ((ha))

5. Try to feed your body like you love it… our immunity is so tied to how we eat.

6. Maybe write letters to loved ones! Actual letters!

7. Spend time every day in a quiet space in your mind and recognize what is GOOD.

8. Light candles and send out prayers. People always mock this as silly and unhelpful (I have strong opinion about why that is NOT true…), but we are all connected AND it can help us to feel not quite so powerless.

Do you have anything you’d add to this list?

Anger

The lake was crazy today when we took a walk to see her. LOUD and VIOLENT in her waves and churning. The kind of water action that changes whole coastlines in amazingly short lengths of time.

She was mesmerizing.

And I kept thinking she was reminding me of Kali, the Hindu goddess that brings about death to make room for rebirth.

She’s a goddess that I have spent a lot of time with over the last six years.

I feel her rage inside of me, but unlike our lake or mother nature in general, I don’t feel like I have anywhere to put that sort of rage. I don’t have a coastline that I can recut.

Another title for Kali, though, is liberator of souls.

We can only be liberated once what is keeping us imprisoned is destroyed.

Right now, we’re in this strange, extremely uncomfortable (to put it mildly), frustrating, STUCK place, but it’s in these sorts of liminal spaces where it seems nothing is happening that everything is happening.

More people than ever are, for example, waking up to the fact that the way our current culture is structured is not working. People are dying from lack of healthcare and food. What about that is in any way civilized?

But we have, for too long, walked beside that fact, averting our eyes because it wasn’t touching us. Now it is or the possibility is more present than ever and that is enough to stir more than usual critical thinking.

People are waking up to the fact that a few people owning most of the world’s resources is maybe not only unfair but just, well, not longterm functional.

Raging, churning, screaming…

It’s a right and good rage. It’s a necessary churning. It’s a relief to be screaming and to finally be heard, even just a bit.

I have no answers. I have no idea where we’re headed or how to get there. It’s the nature of this space we’re in. All I have is feeling and observation, and for now, that has to be enough no matter how much I don’t like it.

Brain Chemistry & Meditation

People who love meditation love to tell people how meditation is the answer to pretty much everything.

What these people don’t realize or don’t know or simply ignore is that different brains are, well, different and that difference counts with something like meditation.

As an embodiment artist and teacher, I’ve met and talked to far too many people who feel shamed by their “inability” to meditate.

Of course, the usual definition of meditation by which most people judge themselves is often too narrow and often simply wrong.

Meditation is not, for example, the attempt to eradicate all thinking. Good luck with that. Not possible. (Though you might get moments when it feels this way.)

Meditation is the nonjudgemental observation of the thought process whereby we train ourselves to not get attached to stories. This develops witness mind.

Witness mind can be developed in other ways than simply sitting and counting your breath or whatever of the millions of techniques you’re exploring. And here is where the definition usually gets far too narrow.

You needn’t sit on some specific cushion in some specific posture for some specific number of minutes.

For a long time, for example, the only way I could approach this sort of mind space was through vigorous and joyful movement. I would tell people that it was then that I could sit inside the “eye of the storm,” the storm being the normal overly chaotic state of my (depressed and anxious) mind.

And here’s where a limited understanding of and a shrinking of the idea of meditation actually gets dangerous, and yes, I said dangerous.

Jon Kabat Zinn, MD, and author of the very famous mindfulness book, Wherever you go, there you are, says that to teach meditation to people with PTSD with no body/somatic component is akin to malpractice, because sitting in the filthy nest of our not-well minds can actually make it all so much worse.

Do I ever know this from personal experience! When he said this, I felt so damn relieved. I was not alone.

When I attempted meditation, it simply allowed me to sit and observe all the depressed and anxious thoughts and in that sitting and observing, those thoughts GREW.

I felt like meditation allowed my mind to basically start eating itself with hatred and worry and fear.

But dance and play? That part of my mind, thanks to in-the-moment swimming-in-happy-chemicals, was shut down or at least quieted. I could see above those thoughts for those moments.

I moved enough and taught enough that those chemicals got a bit steadier and my mind got a bit healthier.

But… my mind was still not healthy enough to allow for the absolute stillness and quiet of seated meditation. That was still the danger zone for me, which was a big clue that my depression and anxiety were not just circumstantial but something much more.

Now that I’m well into the wellness created by (FINALLY!) the right anti-depressant (in my case one that not only blocks re-uptake of serotonin but also of dopamine and norepinephrine), I can see that all along my problem was not one of “not doing enough wellness; not taking the right herb; not eating the right diet; etc., ad nauseam.”

Nope. My base issue was a brain that had bad chemistry. Like a diabetic, I had an actual biological issue and it took medical intervention for me to finally see and feel and believe that.

I’ll try in more posts to write more about how different this is, but…

I can now sit in meditation. NO PROBLEM. Hello, healthy brain!

I now CRAVE moments of stillness and quiet.

My movement work is reflecting that in ways I could have never imagined.

See? That’s what I’m talking about. Different brains… meditation only is efficacious if the brain is already in some shape or form “healthy.” Healthy brain chemistry is needed, and sure, eventually, meditation can be a pathway to even MORE healthy brain chemistry. But you need a base to start.