Elizabeth’s lovely story about the small heart shaped rock that is now forever cemented into the foundation of the room her husband built for her reminded me of our own hidden love message. When my husband and I renovated our first condo in Massachusetts we took the whole kitchen apart and moved it by 10 feet. We painted the new wall behind the kitchen sink a vibrant merlot red; as you can see we didn’t paint all the way to the bottom because that part was going to be invisible behind the cabinets. Instead my husband wrote this on the wall and it tickled us quite a bit that our little love message would remain unseen behind these cabinets until the day that someone else decides to dismantle the kitchen again. Probably not for a long time. This was our first place that we had chosen together and we poured a lot of love into it. Someone else now cooks in this kitchen and whoever uncovers our little message I hope it will make them smile and feel happy.
February 3rd, 2010 in
love february |
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My Kashi breakfast this morning. It actually reminds me a little of the food I feed my cat! But I love
those little cereal hearts. What better way to start love February. Nikon D80. February 1, 2010.
January is done! And good riddance, too. Hello February! Now I know that for many this is the least favorite month in our calendar. A damp, grey and cold reminder that winter is not over yet. Thankfully it only has 28 days, some will say while exhaling a big sigh. Well, to me it’s always been a wonderful month, filled with love, color and fun. First of all there is Carnival, a week of dressing up, letting go and yes, quite a bit of madness. Growing up in one of Germany’s carnival capitals it was an integral and much loved part of my childhood and adolescence. Then there is Valentine’s Day, followed very closely by my birthday and wedding anniversary. Indeed, I got married on my birthday and no, not so that my husband would never forget our wedding day (he is not that kind of man) but because we both thought it would be romantic. And it was. So all in all a pretty happy month in my books.
So I decided to do something quite radical and join Lisa in making February all about love. Well, at least it feels kind of radical to me because things have been somewhat dark and heavy around here (even though some of you assured me that it was ok, which I appreciated very much!) It’s been a long time since I have taken on a blogging challenge and I am usually not too good at sticking with things, but hey ~ it’s a short month! And every post this month will be about LOVE xo
February 2nd, 2010 in
love february |
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It’s been such a mild winter here in the Pacific Northwest. Yet today I could hardly believe
my eyes when I saw these blossoms! And I was quite delighted to spot this heart shaped piece
of chewing gum on the ground. A sign perhaps? I could sure use itin that particular moment.
iPhone. January 31, 2010.
Today I almost had a panic attack at the local Food Co-op. I mean this quite literally. When I came home from work this afternoon, I was feeling sooo tired. Not much sleep last night and up again at 5 a.m. contributed to this state, but it was also my overall exhaustion that peaked today. All I really wanted was to lie down and have a nap. But it was only 4 p.m. and the weather was quite nice and my “wanting to get fitter” self convinced me to go for a walk to the grocery store instead. And the only reason I succumbed to that voice was that I actually fancied some fresh air. The store is only 10-15 minutes away but I could sense that my body was resisting me big way. Heart palpitations almost made me turn around but I managed to stop them again and continued. By the time I reached the store I was shallow breathing and feeling dizzy. I barely got my shopping done and made it through the register. I remembered my first ever panic attack at the age of 17 when I was on a school trip in Vienna, it happened at a grocery store check-out and it literally took my breath away and gave me a fever the same night. It was the beginning of my most difficult year as a young adult. Thinking about all this did not help when I was standing in the Food Co-op check-out line wondering whether I was going to faint or start hyperventilating. In the end neither happened and I left the store and it took all my effort to walk back home. That’s when I took these photos, I had to keep stopping and take a deep breath. All along muttering to myself: “You are so pathetic. Get a grip. This is ridiculous. Pull yourself together. Take a deep breath. Oh, look at those blossoms. Wow. Oh, and there is a heart on the ground. Don’t faint over it now. You are almost home. You are almost safe.”
I am sharing this on here because I have already gone so far on this journey and all this is a part of it. Not the pretty part. It’s ugly and disturbing. And it is also part of another truth: the one about my body, and my weight, and my general state of physical well-being, or rather the lack thereof. Even though I am sticking to my “no alcohol” resolution (and believe me, it’s being tested thoroughly) I am still comfort eating like there is no tomorrow. I kind of expected this, if you have an addictive nature and give one thing up you are likely to replace it with something else. It is not a far stretch for me from wine to ice cream. But this whole food-comfort-weight cycle is such a huge can of worms for me that I just don’t want to touch it. Yet I know that if I am to continue on this journey, and get through it, I have to confront this part of my life, too. So that’s where I am at. I am standing in front of this door and staring at it while all I feel is tremendous shame and paralyzing fear. And that’s all I am going to say about this right now. I don’t feel ready for this part just yet.
On a brighter note I talked to my boss today and it went very well. We agreed that I can take time off “in lieu” as and when appropriate during more quiet times. It was good to see that after one year she trusts my judgment to know when is a good time for this, and when not. I felt a lot better after our chat and am glad to have tackled this issue in a productive and suitable manner.
I am quite aware that the direction of my blog has been kind of heavy for a while now. And I want to express my gratitude to my readers, who are not only gentle with me but also offer their support through sharing their own experiences with immensely thoughtful comments and emails. I want to thank you for this. And my husband, too, who despite the distance always manages to calm me and to make me feel safe again. Please know this, too: what you see here on my blog is only one part of who I am. Even though I am very candid and expose quite vulnerable fragments of myself, there are also many brighter pieces to my life and personality. Despite the heaviness of what I share on here, and the tragedies that happen all over the place, every single day, I am at my core a positive person who believes in the good of people and this world. And it is this trust that keeps me going and wanting to become a better and more authentic human being.
February 1st, 2010 in
Uncategorized |
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Last night I did something that perhaps I shouldn’t have. I added up all the hours that I spent at my job this last month, including the overnights when I usually do get to sleep. Over the course of four weeks I added up almost 240 hours! You do the math: my regular work week is 40 hours x 4 = 160. So during one month I have basically given an extra two weeks worth of hours to my job. And I don’t care that some of that is sleep-time; the way I see it, this is still time that I spent at my workplace, time that I am giving to my employer rather than to my personal life. No wonder I’ve been feeling so tired and out of sorts.
My employers are generally very good to me. They acknowledge and appreciate my hard work and its high quality. For a small business they are generous with our salaries and bonuses. But they do expect everyone of us to go the extra mile. Because that’s their own work ethic. And being the only salaried employee it is a given that my work week regularly exceeds 40 hours, which is perceived as perfectly acceptable. But this month the extra mile has turned into nearly 80 extra hours and even though this has been an unusual month in some respects I remember other times last year where I had a similar workload, I just never added it up.
My reaction to this calculation is interesting. I should be outraged but I am not. A part of me even feels guilty for wanting to claim some of my time back, for instance by announcing today that I am taking tomorrow off, what’s up with that?! But more than anything I feel defeated. Over recent months I have tried putting up some boundaries around my private time, only for them to be torn down over and over again. I am not a naturally assertive person when it comes to my own needs so this is very exhausting for me. And like so often before, when my balance is seriously off kilter, my instinctive reaction is one thing:
I start looking for the exit.
This can take form in various ways … looking for another job, wanting to move, shutting myself off and disengaging, dreaming up the Big Escape. A part of me gets quite excited thinking about all the possibilities. However. As I was mulling all this over during my (almost) daily morning writing exercise a surprising resistance made itself heard. It kept whispering: “Please stay. Don’t look for the exit but find your way through this.” And at this point I will share a very personal truth with you: I wish I had listened to this voice before my move away from my husband. In the summer of 2008, after three difficult years and soon after our Decision, things were beginning to shift. Ever so subtly, but I was really settling into my job at the college, and just a few months before the big move my real estate photography business suddenly started taking off and I had my first photo exhibition. Had I know then what I am beginning to see now (with the help of my counselor) I would have wanted to stay and given things one more chance. I am not one to have regrets because we cannot change the past, but I have to admit that I mourn this missed opportunity. Of course my husband may have perceived this differently and at the time we truly believed that this was the best way forward for all of us. Also, one could argue that it took my relocation here to learn the things I am learning, and I will not disagree with that, either.
Running for the exit is not what I am supposed to do, I feel this very strongly. Whatever momentary notion of relief the thought of the exit gives me, I know now that it’s never just an exit with a sun-soaked meadow on the other side, but merely a door to another reality with similar challenges. But even stronger than this realization is my desire to honor my regret over a missed opportunity to work things out back east. Just for that I need to stay and see this through.
So tomorrow I am going to have a talk with my boss. Her reaction may not be aligned with my desired outcome, but I know that I have to stand up for myself here and draw a line that she can also respect. The only reason why this is hard for me is that I dislike conflict and confrontation with a passion. Nothing makes me feel more uncomfortable and stressed. Alas, just like I am very protective of my staff’s personal time, I have to do the same for myself.
Spending a lovely afternoon at Granville Market with a good friend. Nikon D80 on January 24, 2010.
One of the major issues I have with doing my therapy and self development is the guilt I feel over not having any “real” problems. “How do you qualify that“, my therapist asked? “Well, compared to others …” I replied, ready to launch into the all too familiar self limiting gremlin talk. He stopped me there and then. Because whenever I make statements like that they are not about failure to recognize and appreciate suffering in others, they are all about self validation and not deeming myself worthy of the attention and effort. Because deep down I don’t. Deep down I hear the long buried voices of my doctor who told me to pull myself together when I told him about my panic attacks, or my grandparents who rarely shied away from expressing their disapproval of my gipsy-like lifestyle and lack of a “proper” career. I soon added enough voices of my own, and even though they did not prevent me from walking my life to my own drum, they nonetheless provide a consistent nagging undercurrent that keeps making me feel guilty and inadequate.
This morning, after a restless night with not enough sleep, I woke up with the familiar sense of having wasted away the last two days which I had off. I felt guilty for not having done anything, for not progressing with my big projects, yada yada ya … I was still off today and seeing my counselor in the afternoon. One of the benefits that I am definitely seeing with my therapy is that it makes me accountable for the work I am doing. So in view of the crappy start to my day I decided to make a list for him, and for me really, with the following questions:
1) What did I do this last week that deserves recognition?
2) What did I feel guilty about?
3) What felt good this week?
4) What do I not feel in control over?
5) What routine tasks require a lot of effort?
6) What are my BIG projects?
This turned into a very interesting exercise. There were actually quite a few items in the first column and I put everything in that felt like an effort to me, regardless of whether it was a stupid little task (like applying teeth whitening strips) or something more worthy (like staying on at work and getting important things done despite feeling very upset over my deceased friend and wanting to go home). I was amazed at just how much pressure I put on myself over a long list of unaccomplished or half finished projects. Putting it all in writing in list format was incredibly helpful. Once I was done I still had a couple of hours left and rather than continue my doodling around the internet, I decided to pick an item from list 2) that fell under category 5) and to DO IT. Two hours later my apartment was vacuumed and dusted, the bathrooms were clean, fresh sheets were on my bed and I had finished two loads of laundry. And it felt good. And that’s what I plan to remember next time I feel overwhelmed by my life with no “real” problems: rather than dismiss an activity such as cleaning my home as being just a mundane task that should not require so much effort and therefore I should not make such a big deal out of it, I will think of it as a worthy activity that makes me feel GOOD once I have DONE it.
My counselor loved the idea of the list and I am going to start incorporating it into my weekly preparation for my sessions with him. And you know what? It’s nothing new or revolutionary, but I am feeling good for having found a way of calming down the gremlins while lifting the pressure a little and being more present and engaged with myself.
P.S. I also changed the look of my blog a little with fresher brighter colors and a new banner, hope you like it!
P.P.S. Oh, and I re-designed my real estate photography website as I want to give that business a kick start very soon, if you are interested you can check it out here.
My 15-year old god-daughter in her trendy Uggs and whatever brand trendy jacket.
Polaroid SX-70 on January 23, 2010.
As much as I love what others produce with their polaroids I am not sure it is for me. The film is super expensive and the results are usually pretty blurry and either very green or very orange, made worse by my scanner which is pretty much on its last leg (one of those all-in-one machines that I’ve had a few years.) These ones were taken with pricey TZ film and I am not too impressed with the giraffe pattern! Oh ok, it’s artistic. Anyway, I am sure with more patience and motivation I could figure it out, but for now I have run out of film and I won’t be stocking up too soon.
Anyway. I just wanted to say a quick hello on yet another late night. I’ve had a dull headache all day, only slightly eased by my superwoman massage therapist. An old friend of mine from my Lufthansa days passed away this week. She was an alcoholic. My drinking buddy during my darker times in London all those years ago. Eventually she got married to another alcoholic, they had a baby and moved to Spain. We did not keep in contact and I only got the occasional update through mutual friends. Last week she was taken to hospital with organ failure and died a few days later from a massive heart attack. She was 41. The reality of her death didn’t hit me until yesterday when messages started pouring in from friends and former colleagues. Suddenly the memories came flushing to the surface, both painful and good ones. When I say that she was my drinking buddy there is so much that I am leaving out. There is a lot of tragedy and sadness once you lift the veil of her affluent and irresponsible lifestyle. Yet for all her misguided choices she was always a very sweet and generous soul. One of those people who made you feel good about yourself, there was not a single mean bone in her. She was positive and charming and laughed a lot. But she was the party girl who didn’t know when to come home. May she rest in peace.
It is easy to feel overwhelmed by all the sad news that has been permeating the world, both at large and within my personal boundaries, yet I am feeling fairly calm. I try to focus on those things that I have at least some control over, and cherish the good stuff that is out there, too. Now, if only I could bring myself to go to bed earlier, I think that would help the most!
San Juan Islands. Taken on January 10, 2010.
Do you know this? When you are so tired you are actually too tired to go to sleep? That’s me tonight. Although it’s not just that. This is also one of those nights where I am holding on to precious personal time. This is usually a slow month at work but it’s not been that for me. Yet another unplanned 24-hour shift followed by more hours the next day pushed me close to having spent nearly 70 hours at my workplace last week. After 60 hours the week before. Some of that is sleep-time but to me that doesn’t make any difference, it still is time that I am spending at work, and in a bed at my job, instead of at home. When I got home this afternoon, I was so physically and mentally exhausted that I just vegged out in front of the TV for the rest of the evening. And it is only now, at nearly 1:30 am, that I am finally ready to catch up with myself, even though I am super tired.
What happened these last two weeks is not always the norm, and helping out the way I did was absolutely the right thing to do for my colleagues and for the business. That knowledge does make me feel better about it, and I just hope that things will return to normal now, at least for a while. What all this is teaching me is the importance of getting enough sleep (ha!) and taking my need for energy more seriously.
Speaking of energy. At the beginning of the year I stopped drinking, that was my only other resolution in addition to getting more relaxed about the job: no alcohol for one year. This may sound drastic to some, but for me it is about so much more than simply giving up wine for an extended period of time. Wine had become my comfort and my crutch over the last decade. It’s how I relax and how I love to socialize. I also use it as a way of numbing out and keeping life comfortable, and remaining asleep to myself. It’s one of the thicker layers embracing the essence beneath and it is time to start peeling it away. I decided to abstain because that’s easier for me than moderating my intake. And isn’t it interesting how both resolutions were tested right away, because normally the stress at work would have sent me straight to a few glasses of wine. But you know what? Abstaining has not been that difficult actually, at least not so far. And what I am noticing instead is that I have just a tiny bit more energy, I sleep better, I feel more focused. These are good motivators for me to keep going.
2010 got off to a rough start. On a world scale with an earthquake. On a personal scale with sad news about a friend, not just for me but also one of my staff. On the comparatively tiny scale of work/life balance, well, enough said about that one. Nonetheless. When this new year started I actually had a good feeling about it. And I still do. I don’t know why. I just do. And I did say that I wanted to push through some barriers and see what’s on the other side. I guess that’s exactly what I am doing. And that’s why I must continue and have faith in the path.
2 am. With all this off my chest (thanks for listening!) I bid you a good night. And just in case you are wondering I have tomorrow off!
“How do we live our lives when part of us is so grateful for all our blessings, and the other
is so guilty about all we have in the midst of all the brokenness in this world?” ~ Shiraz Janjua
Haiti is not only the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, it is also one of the most corrupt and historically troubled nations. And now, it has become one of the most devastated. Again. The odd news report apart I don’t know much about Haiti, and like so often when tragedies on this scale happen I have to absorb the news and images in measured doses because otherwise my deep empathy will play havoc with my vivid imagination. It is easy to feel blessed, guilty and helpless all at once. But whatever I, or we, feel doesn’t matter, it is our actions that count now more than ever.
Giving and charities have been on my mind a lot lately. In fact, there is a little project simmering underneath and waiting to be born, but it is not quite there yet. When it comes to charity I often feel overwhelmed by the sheer amount of organizations out there, and numbed by their size and intangibility. Which is why, when I give (not often enough), it is usually to causes with more personal and palpable connections, like Kelly Rae’s appeal to help build Esteria’s home. So in a case like Haiti, where the toll is immeasurable and the devastation total I can easily get lost in the countless appeals that pop up everywhere. Which is why I decided to not think about it all too much and to give to two organizations recommended by bloggers who I like and who have a personal connection:
Recommended by Summer Pierre: Partners in Health ~ Stand with Haiti
Summer is one of my favorite artists and earliest blogging discoveries. I had the immense pleasure of meeting her in New York a couple of years ago. I still read her blog faithfully, she has a wonderful way with words and is very funny. And super talented. Anyway, she used to work for PIH and has even been to Haiti, click here to read more. That alone is reason enough for me to want to donate here; but also go and visit their website to learn more about the amazing work of Dr. Paul Farmer and partners.
Found at Shona Cole’s blog: Three Angel’s Relief
Shona is another gifted artist, a recent find via Maddie. Click here to read her post where she talks about her friend who adopted her two children from an orphanage in Haiti. Read their website, they also do wonderful work and it seems to me that both of these organizations can be trusted to deliver the funds to where they are needed.To go directly to the donations page click here.
We give because we can.
January 15th, 2010 in
Uncategorized |
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Today I went for a spontaneous walk at Squalicum Beach. The weather was incredibly mild,
almost spring-like, and it was a beautiful evening. I wasn’t quite prepared for a walk on pebbles
with my easy slip in clogs (which I wore for my prior massage appointment as they are easy to take off)
and my feet got wet and sandy. But I didn’t mind, seeing the light and inhaling the fresh sea air was so worth it!
Yesterday was a bit of a wash-out. After my second unplanned 24-hour shift this week I was going to have the day off but returned for a few more hours to help out a staff member. It was the right thing to do but it was also the straw that broke the camel’s back, or my spirit to be precise. I have never worked in a job that makes such demands on my time. While I don’t mind working weekends or long days, it is the unpredictable nature of being on call almost every day, as well as the expectation to put in extra hours on a regular basis, that make me feel like my job owns me. There are other aspects, too, that I am struggling with but my ultimate dilemma is this: am I wrong for the job, or is the job wrong for me? When I said before that there are a lot of good things about my job I meant it. I am also sincere when I express my gratitude for having good employment in this economy. And I care enough about my employers and the staff to consistently deliver commitment and high quality work. All this should be enough, shouldn’t it?
Something has to be done. Thus my resolution to be more relaxed and accepting about the nature of my job. This has worked in the past and I guess that is part of my challenge, too. This is not the first job where I am having doubts about its good fit. Which immediately makes me think it’s me, rather than the job, right? One of the problems is that I have rarely made conscious choices with respect to my career. Most of my jobs happened to me, rather than me pursuing them. It turns out that this is very typical for the Enneagram Type Nine. However, some of you may remember that I really wanted this job. That’s why I am so conflicted. When I started my job search at the end of 2008 I made the decision to only go for jobs with lots of people contact, I wanted to get back to my roots in customer service, and no 9-5 office routine. Well, the universe heard me and I got what I wished for. And if I take a hard look at the situation then I realize that the things I am struggling with have nothing to do with these basic desires, but they have everything to do with the essence of my personality and work style. My professional path may have developed quite differently had I ever paid closer attention to this essence.
So I made this resolution and it is being tested to its limits in the very first week of the new year. What is the universe trying to tell me? Try harder? Or start thinking about what I really want to do and how to get there? Well, I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle. I have to do both. And see where it takes me.
One thing I know for sure: energy and stamina are key ingredients this year and that’s my real starting point and the basis for my other resolution. But I will talk about that another time because it is late, once again!, and I need to go to bed. I should probably add another resolution, one of Gretchen Rubin’s critical elements to happiness: getting enough sleep!
But before I turn off my computer here are a few more photos from today’s beach walk:
Winter in the Pacific Northwest. It’s actually been fairly mild and I love it that way.
I don’t mind the rain, I actually like it, and even gray and wet days often finish
with a glimpse of light or even spectacular sunsets in my little town on the bay.
Photo: Boulevard Park in Bellingham. Taken today. Canon Powershot.
It is the fifth day of the new year. My husband is back in New England and my job has already laid its claims on my time and I had to do an unplanned 24-hour shift on my first day back. On the upside the colleague I was covering for is doing my 24-hour shift tomorrow so I am having a regular office day instead and can come back to my own bed in the evening. This year I want to let go of my resentment over the work intrusions into my private space and learn to embrace them for what they are: a necessary part of my job as the supervisor of a small 24/7 business. It’s a great job in so many respects and I just know that I will feel a lot better about it once I stop resisting and start accepting.
Like so many others I have been contemplating my word for 2010. In previous years I chose words like nourish and alive; and while they are filled with all sorts of potential and promise, I never quite lived up to them. It’s like I love the idea of one little word, but after the initial excitement I kind of forget about it again. Nonetheless, to have one word guide you through the year, as opposed to making half-hearted resolutions, is such a compelling concept, is it not? So this time around I want to take it more seriously.
My word for 2010 feels huge to me. I am totally in awe of it and quite unsure if I am even ready for it. I think I mentioned it before, my word is Essence.
At this point I want to share a paragraph with you that I found on this blog. The blog is no longer updated and this is an older post and from what I could see the only post that mentions the Enneagram. But I found her description (which I am slightly paraphrasing) so spot on, it explains better than I can some of the work I have been doing, and where it all potentially leads:
“It may be that the Enneagram is a tool better suited to self-discovery (and to self-work, or healing) than to typing, or categorizing. This is because the Enneagram types, as I understand them, are constructs. The theory distinguishes “personality” from “essence” and as we move into higher functioning levels we let go of many of the patterns of personality that determine our behavior. This is why it is easier to “type” average or low-functioning individuals who are still operating at the level of personality. Once we are aware of the mechanisms of our personality, or type, we become less identified with it. We discover our true nature, our essence.”
It is late and I am too tired to go into more details but if you are curious you can read more about Personality, Essence and Spirituality here. It’s fascinating stuff. For now I will just conclude with this: to me “living in essence” is all about “living in love, authenticity and goodness.” I have been acting from a place of fear for so long, it’s become my normal state of being. This year I want to keep peeling back those layers of anxiety and worry and move closer to the essence beneath. Yes, it is a big word. And this year I will be paying close attention to it.