As mentioned last month, I'm going through something.
And since my book “We’ve Got to Stop Meeting Like This” was published, I’ve been asked repeatedly how I got through the difficulties I described? How did I keep going?
I think of these times as being on the razor’s edge. The brink between normalcy and chaos.
Sane - and less sane.
The time when we are at the brink and need to soften when we really want to jump, run, scream.
It's a place where our skin comes off. Our blinders too. We see and feel things clearly, viscerally - and our ability to express gracefully or guardedly is lowered.
During times like these, I fall back into a list of learned habits and self-care mechanisms. In other words, as the well-worn mug above suggests, I "trust the process."
One of my favorite process tips: Don't lean into the drama. Even though past trauma and conditioning can make it feel familiar. Comfortable. But toying or engaging with negative energy can cause a figurative (or actual) hangover. And disrupt healing.
Recently I attended an outdoor concert. I looked forward to it all week. And it had all the right elements. The weather was cool and breezy. The band upbeat. The WaWa panini delicious. And to top it off – a spontaneous dancing love train broke out.
But in the middle of the event, a person came over and made an offhand comment to me. It had to do with my appearance – my weight. I'm sure it wasn't meant to sting, but it did.
A reviewer of my book complained that I didn’t go far enough into my weight battle. That I tiptoed on the edge of it but didn’t share that pain. And she was right. Those pages fell onto the cutting room floor. There was so much else to fit into those 299 pages that my tango with 200+ girth felt superfluous.
And I'm not going to go into it here beyond the fact that I am healthier than I've been in years largely because I've finally befriended my body (because of yoga teacher and therapy training) and gotten off the sugar roller coaster by becoming sober. That said - I will likely always be a Large or double-digit size - and I'm okay with that most of the time.
So, let’s get back to the comment.
When the words landed my eyes widened and my face grew warm. I looked around to see if anyone else heard, but they were caught up in other conversations. And as happens with people who are clumsy with their words, the commenter was on to a new subject before I could say anything.
So I remained silent. Nothing I said was going to change anything. Eventually, the band launched into a familiar song and the commenter danced away.
Since I noticed my uncomfortable feelings, I didn't do what I sometimes do afterward - binge on sugar or salty snacks - or drink away my upset. Instead, I watched some Real Housewives (living vicariously from their witty retorts), meditated with Reiki (to release the energy) before bed, and woke up hangover free (which gave me the time and awakeness to work on this piece).
The takeaway? When you’re going through dukkha - and someone throws more at you – duck. Don’t make everything worse by responding in kind or letting it sabotage your self-care. We just regret it afterward (and the incident probably won’t matter that much in a week, month or year).
We cannot change people. They have their own worries and will behave and speak from them. We can only control our actions – and inaction (which is sometimes the best option when the grievance is relatively harmless).
Hope this is helpful.
Will be back next month with more insights from the razor’s edge.
May they be of benefit.