The Corner From Hell

Why does every kitchen have a corner that’s too crowded? The one where attempting to put something into the microwave means reaching over the head of the person unloading the dishwasher. In our kitchen, it’s the corner where pouring a cup of coffee, stirring something on the stove, and reaching for dishes to set the table all converge. Working there by myself is fine. Given my claustrophobia, throw one more body into the mix and it’s the corner from hell.

Defined as an intense fear of confined or enclosed spaces, claustrophobia impacts about 12.5% of us. It is a phobia because the fear is greater than the perceived threat. For me, the mere thought of spelunking, traffic coming to a stop in a long tunnel, the window seat in the last row of the plane on an international flight, or taking the Chunnel under the English Channel makes me start to hyperven… Can we just talk about something else??

While not included with the 5 love languages, one of mine is space and autonomy. I’ve worked hard to develop my sense of self and independence, and I feel loved and seen when others recognize that. Becoming strong and capable in my own right has come at a price, and when that gets threatened it elicits a powerful, visceral response I’ve come to recognize as emotional claustrophobia. It gets triggered when someone, (unfortunately usually someone I love) steps in to help me when I haven’t asked for it. It feels like they are hovering over me and attempting to rescue me from something I’m totally capable of handling myself. Left to its own devices, my lizard brain takes over and I find myself in full fight or flight mode. It’s not pretty.

When triggered, most of us don’t respond from our best selves, and I am anything but an exception to that rule. Perceiving a threat where there is none, I’ve hurt the feelings of the people I love with my fear-based reactions and harsh words. To learn to respond from a better place rather than react from an unhealthy one, I’m working to identify the feeling when it occurs. Instead of acting on that inner claustrophobia to protect myself, I describe what I’m experiencing to the person I deem to be doing the hovering and helping. It’s my intent to share that with them in a calm and respectful way, a goal that is still somewhat aspirational. But I’m making progress.

This practice is a way of living from the inside out. A way of bringing to the light what we are tempted to keep in the dark. Disclosing when we are feeling triggered rather than keeping it to ourselves, those long held and often irrational fears begin to loosen their grip. Learning to communicate about our triggers in real time can be a game changer in a relationship. It is a way of holding ourselves accountable to show up differently, and an invitation for others to show up differently too.

By understanding what fuels the unhealthy patterns that show up in our relationships, we have the possibility of creating new healthy patterns together. But only if we talk about them.

Maybe just don’t try talking about it in the corner from hell.

Having Its Way With Us

I love December. The way the sun stays low in the sky, the temperatures fall and darkness descends early, and the reminder that the year isn’t over yet. Yes, a new year looms over the horizon, but this one isn’t done with us yet.

This year, perhaps more than any other, we’ve discovered so much about ourselves. The good, the bad, and even—or especially—the ugly. These final days of the year are ones in which to take stock and decide what to do with what we’ve been given. And, when the time comes to turn the page on a new year, know what to bring with us, and what to leave behind.

The year 2020 has been one for the books, and there are still 31 days for this year to have its way with us. May we end this last chapter well.

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Mox-Nix

When faced with two options, my sister often replies, “Mox Nix”. It comes from the German es macht nichts, and originated with American soldiers stationed in Germany after WWII. The gist of the term is that it really doesn’t matter, or it isn’t that important.

I’ve always loved the term, and how the words feel rolling off my tongue.

If 2020 has taught us anything, it is that there are things that matter, and things that don’t. We’ve also learned, or perhaps, remembered, how little is under our control, and we don’t like that. We’d rather have our hands firmly at the helm thank you, and when we can’t, we get scared, grab for control wherever we can get it, and pick battles that don’t matter with the people that do. .

We want what we want, and we want it now. But there is little joy in such victories, and while we may get what we want, rarely do we get what we need.

Mox Nix can help with that.

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Okay With Not Being Okay

The other day I screamed at a customer service agent over the phone.

Stop! Just stop talking! Be quiet and let me finish! Thankfully I stopped short of yelling Shut the F#@k up!, but just barely.

It didn’t make me feel any better. How could it? Yelling at him wasn’t okay. But then again, neither was I. My little interchange on the phone was a clue about just how not okay I’d been feeling.

Typically whenever something isn’t okay, my first response is to try and fix it. To try and make it better. To try and get over it so that I can get on with it.

I’m trying not to do that.

I’m trying something new.

I’m trying to be okay with not being okay. It’s a stretch.

After hanging up the phone from yelling at the guy who was trying to help me, I cried for about the ninth time that day. Then I laid on the couch for a while. Then I cried some more. Then I threw the ball to the dog. Then I took a nap. Then I watched the KC Chiefs beat the NE Patriots. Then I ate dinner. Then I watched the GB Packers beat the Atlanta Falcons. Then I took a walk. Then I went to bed. Then I slept. Then I woke up. Then I had a cup of coffee on the front porch in the early morning darkness.

Things weren’t suddenly okay, but somehow that seemed, well, okay.

As I write this, there is a little more breathing room around my not-okayness. And with a little more space, I’m less tempted to run from it and more inclined to reflect on it. Instead of trying to fix it, I find myself turning to face it. Rather than hurrying to get over it, I’m slowing down so as to get something out of it. Because it’s here for a reason, and there are things that can only be discovered when we are anything but okay.

We are in a hurt locker. All of us. We’ve been through hard times before, but not these hard times. We’ve navigated hard things before, but not these hard things. With no end in sight, it only makes sense that there are going to be days when we simply are not okay.

And when we’re not, it is fertile ground for growth.

And I’m okay with that.

The Guy In The Camo-Hat

We are all one family who have forgotten who we are.

~ Rhonda V. Magee - The Inner Work of Racial Justice

He walked into my favorite local farm store just as I was about to check out with my basket full of produce, birdseed, and farm-fresh eggs. Tall and imposing with a long beard fashioned into what is sometimes referred to a Viking beard, the expression on his face was anything but warm and friendly. He was dressed in khaki hunting pants and a short-sleeve t-shirt, a camo hat pulled low over his eyes. And, he was packing a semi-automatic pistol on his hip. Accompanied by a woman wearing a mask, he had a young German Shepard on a leash. The woman with him was small in stature and, to my eye, seemed timid and submissive, as if she had acquiesced any personal power and agency to him.

I was grateful that I was wearing the mask that I diligently use during these strange and scary COVID-19 times. Thankful that I can do even this simple small thing to protect my fellow citizens, yes, but also grateful that he was unable to see the look on my face—a look that would have let him know that I knew his story and was disgusted by it. Everything about this guy in the camo-hat smacked to me of white supremacy, white nationalism, an unflinching commitment to the least restrictive interpretation of Second Amendment rights, and the relegation of women to their place behind men. I could feel my anger rising up as I considered all the ways in which what this man surely stood for are undermining our country and threatening our democracy. How, with people like him on the rise, can we have a shred of hope for ever achieving “liberty and justice for all”?

Climbing back into our car my thoughts continued to unspool about why people feel the need to wear a gun in public, not to mention a semi-automatic one. What felt like low-level adrenaline coursed through my body as I continued to focus on all the things I imagined when encountering the guy in the camo-hat. This went on all afternoon as we went about our bi-weekly essential activities trip into town.

And then it dawned on me.

I knew nothing about the guy in the camo-hat.

Not his name, the cards life had dealt him, or how he has chosen to play them.

Nothing.

In the time it would have taken him to draw his weapon, I had made up a story about him based on my own stereotypes and biases, and then proceeded to believe every imaginary word. It was the kind of story that separates us from our fellow human beings. The fear-based story of Us vs Them. The weaponized story that is undermining our country and threatening our democracy.

What if his story wasn’t anything like the one I had been telling myself since I first laid eyes on him. What if he was an off-duty policeman whose family had been threatened due to an earlier arrest and conviction? What if he was veteran committed to training therapy dogs for military members who were living with trauma-induced PTSD? What if the woman he was with wore a mask because she had a compromised immune system from treatment for cancer? What if she stayed close to his side because he was the love of her life who had seen her through her illness?

What if?

I can remember the exact spot on the road when this new story made it’s way into my closed and biased heart. There was a perceptible change in my body. Everything softened and opened up. My heart made room for this man I didn’t know. Like me, is he afraid for our country, and if so, why? Like me, does he love his family and friends with a love that runs deep and wide? Like me, has he been battered and bruised by painful life experiences? Like me, does he have knee-jerk reactions to others as a way to protect himself from those he fears?

I may never learn his real story.

It is certainly possible that the story I made up has a loud ring of truth to it. Even if it does, I can only hope that my encounter with the guy in the camo-hat will help me remember what so many of us seem to have forgotten. We are family, and we belong to each other. Which is why, tomorrow when I head out on a nearby logging road for a hike, I will be sure and wear my favorite hat to help me remember.

We are family.

We belong to each other.

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The Roundabout

Roundabouts, also known as traffic circles, allow traffic to flow in one direction around a central island. There are usually several exits that let drivers continue on down the road. More than once I’ve found myself going around a traffic circle several times, somehow having missed my exit. Eventually I would get out of the circle and continue on my way.

Sometimes processing an emotional issue feels a lot like getting caught in a roundabout. We need to keep motoring around the matter in question until finally, we are ready to exit the circle, and continue on our way.

Photo by Tuur Tisseghem from Pexels

Photo by Tuur Tisseghem from Pexels


On The Road Again

The early weeks in a new year are often a time of introspection and reflection as we allow the dust of the previous year to settle, and our vision and roadmap for the new one to begin to emerge.

It is time well spent.

On one condition.

Insight is cheap unless we take action on what we’ve discovered during the days of turning our gaze inward. That deeper understanding of who we are and what we care about is meant to energize our lives out in the world. It doesn’t even matter if we don’t yet have a crystal clear vision for the road ahead. It is time to start taking action, trusting that we’ll gain the clarity we need through the process of moving forward.

Do you remember those toy cars that had an internal mechanism called a pullback motor? The more you pulled the car backwards, the more the energy built up until when you released the car, it shot forward.

We are seven weeks into this new year. It’s time to stop pulling our cars backward, let them go, and hang on for the ride.

(With gratitude to Dane Anthony for reminding me about these tiny cars)

Photo: PRR on pexels.com

Photo: PRR on pexels.com


Test Results

I had some blood drawn the other day at the request of one of my doctors to check in on the levels of a few key hormones. The test results are in and once my doc has had a chance to review them, we will discuss whether we need to make any tweaks int treatment in the name of staying healthy and energized.

Lately I’ve noticed too much fluctuation in mood and outlook to ignore, which has me wondering if there are some key components that have dropped below optimal levels. I know what the vital ingredients are to keep me healthy and engaged with life, and after a quick review of my essential elements, it is clear that a few are in need of tweaking.

When things don’t seem quite right, it’s time to test our levels of that which keeps us at our best.

Photo: Chokniti Khongchum on pixels.com

Photo: Chokniti Khongchum on pixels.com

Insight + Action = Transformation

Every day there is the possibility of discovering new things about ourselves and our way of being in the world.

If we pay attention, we can gain insight that can help us become more of the person we want to be.

Insight however, is cheap.

It’s what we do with it that counts.

Question 1: What insight have you discovered about yourself?

Question 2: What are you going to do about it?

Photo by Moises Besada from Pexels

Photo by Moises Besada from Pexels


Doing What Makes Sense

Yesterday I spent some time by myself getting everything out of my head and down onto paper. It took several pages.

Today my plan was to begin working on some of those things. Things like creating a writing calendar for the upcoming year, and developing some ideas to be used with clients, in workshops, and for upcoming speaking engagements. It quickly became clear my brain simply wasn’t ready to think in creative and expansive ways, and that attempting to tackle any of those today made no sense.

At first I felt bad about that. Like I was somehow failing myself and my work. However, rather than hit the couch to watch the entire last season of Man In The High Castle, I glanced back over my list from the previous day to see if there was anything there that did make sense to do today given the condition of my non-creative, non-expansive brain.

There was.

Clean and organize the pantry.

It took about three hours. Moving slowly and putting things in order felt like meditation. And just like the orderly pantry shelves, my thoughts began to settle into place, and my creative, expansive brain that had gone missing showed up, ready for me to reach for it another day.

Whenever possible, doing what makes sense makes good sense.

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