writing

New Morning Routine

~ crazybuddhaful ~ 3 Comments

The other morning I was laying in bed thinking to myself that I really want to have a set morning routine. I recently decided that the routine I was trying to establish wasn’t working, so instead of trying harder, I wanted to try better. In all honesty, what I was trying didn’t have the set structure of a regular routine, and I think that was a big part of why it fell apart. I had specific things I wanted to do everyday, but I just couldn’t place them into a schedule I could follow. So I’m lying in bed thinking about this new routine when I go through my email to discover that the universe, via one of my dearest friends, has sent me a message:

A Navy SEAL’s Morning Routine To Stay Focused & Feel Great All Day – mindbodygreen.com

I’ve made a few tweaks and am now on Day 2 of my new morning routine:
1. Find a calm space.
I’ve decided to start my mornings outside. I live in the hills and have a truly wonderful outdoor space, but for some inexplicable reason, I barely spend any time out there. I’ve come to view this place as my version of Thoreau’s Walden, and I’m hoping that this practice will lead to me spending more time out there.
2. Drink a glass of water.
3. Write three things I’m grateful for with my left hand.
I was recently inspired by another article (https://www.brainpickings.org/2016/06/07/the-magic-of-the-book-hermann-hesse-my-belief/) to start practicing writing with my left hand (I’m right handed). I attempted this a few years ago, but like most things soon forgot about it. It almost feels like a meditation practice because I have to be truly focused on what I’m doing and nothing else.
4. Mindfully stretch.
5. Breathing meditation for a minimum of five minutes.
Breathe in for 3, hold for 3, breathe out for 3, hold for 3. Repeat.
I haven’t made up my mind on whether I want to make a list or plan for the day. I’ve found that whenever I make lists of things I want to do, I usually don’t get through most of the items and then just feel really shitty about myself. I do like the idea of visualization though. Maybe I’ll try visualizing one thing I want to do each day.

Try Better, Not Harder

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I read a post on Seth Godin’s blog a few days ago that’s stayed with me: Try Better. Maybe it’s not always about trying harder. Maybe if something isn’t working, forcing it isn’t the answer. I think the momentum or commitment or whatever it is that had me going has run out, or at least faded. I’ve fallen off exercising and posting everyday, but this doesn’t mean that I don’t want to keep trying these things anymore.

I think “failing” at something can be a seductive trap to just throw in the towel and say, fuck it, I knew I couldn’t do it. What we don’t realize, and maybe this is a willful kind of ignorance, is that one mistake doesn’t erase all the progress we’ve made. But bullying or shaming ourselves into constantly trying harder isn’t going to bring about the desired results either.

So, let’s try better. Truth be told, I’ve felt like a lot of my posts have feel forced because I committed to writing something everyday. If something didn’t come up naturally, I’d badger myself into trying harder. “You said you were gonna write something everyday. There you go foregoing your commitments as usual.” Or the more psychologically pernicious voice would come and try to coax me into writing something by using my fear of failure against me: “Are you so scared of failing that you can’t even put a few mental ramblings down? It’s okay, just get something down. You just need to try…harder.”

Trying better means taking the time to look at what’s going on with sober eyes. Accepting that something may not be working; that this “thing” that we want, may not be what we need. A whole new approach may need to be created…and it may actually end up being harder, but if we try better, it might not feel so tough.

Dead Battery

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I’m driving up to Big Sur this weekend to visit my friend at Esalen. In preparation, I went to get my car checked yesterday to make sure everything was in good condition. Last night when I got home, I went through the glove compartment to make sure my registration and insurance was in there. I turned on the little light in the middle and reminded myself, “You better fuckin’ remember to turn this thing off.” I have a tendency to forget to do that. Also, last week, I left my lights on while at a Dodgers game, and when I tried to start the car to leave, my battery was dead. So in light of this recent occurrence, it was especially important that I not forgot. Also, since the distress from that experience is still pretty fresh, I figured there’s no way I would forgot.

Skip to this morning. We have a one car garage and P’s car was blocking mine, so I moved it out of the way and got into my car. Click, click, click, click, click. What the?! Yes, you guessed it. Immediately:

Oh…my…god…
You forgot to turn off the fuckin’ light!
You’re such a fuckin’ idiot.
What the hell is wrong with you?!
Is this battery done now? I’m going to have to buy a new fuckin’ battery. There goes another couple hundred down the drain.

I want to cry. I cried. I hate myself. I hate my life. I’m supposed to be at my parent’s house right now to take care of my Dad while my mom takes care of an errand. I feel like this is a sick joke. One fucked up situation stacked on top of another, and it won’t stop. A Jenga master has control of my life and they’re just racking it up.

A shit ton of mindful breaths and a call to AAA later…I’m here. It’s okay. It happened. I’m not an idiot. Yes, I did a very stupid, careless thing, but that does not in and of itself make me some incompetent worthless creature. AAA is coming. Shit happens, but that does not mean that I am shit. I’m not shit. I’m human. I still want to cry and I probably will, but there is a tiny part of me inside that knows it’s okay. I need to be open to that part and let it do its thing instead of drowning it out with all the pernicious, negative thoughts that want to rule this world inside of my head.

May I be at ease.
May I know that I am worthy.
May I feel that I am good enough.

Eat, Pray, Shut Up

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I’m currently reading Eat, Pray, Love. To be completely honest, I’m kind of embarrassed to be reading this book. I even made a book cover out of a market bag (high school styles) so I could read it in public and not feel judged. Here’s the thing – Elizabeth Gilbert started coming out on a lot of podcasts I listen to and from what I’ve heard, I really like her, and what she has to say really resonates with me. But I have this problem with things that gain a certain level of mass appeal and popularity. Basically, I think there must be something wrong with whatever the thing is if that much of the public can appreciate it…because I think the public is generally stupid. I mean let’s just take a look at the current presidential election. Actually, let’s not…when I think about what’s going on, it just melts my mind. And heart.

Back to Eat, Pray, Love. I believe my curiosity was piqued back when the book first gained momentum, but books that get on Oprah’s bookclub or become movies starring Julia Roberts just confirm my decision to stay away. Yes, I can be quite judgmental and haughty at times. But after I heard some interviews with her, I realized that perhaps I had misjudged the situation.  Although I was most interested in reading her latest book (Big Magic – Creative Living Beyond Fear), I happened upon a used copy of you know what at the library for $1. So I got it…and I love it (and admitting that still makes me cringe a little…I guess I still have a lot of that judgmental me I need to purge).

I just read this part where she commits to talking less: “No more scurrying, gossiping, joking. No more spotlight-hogging or conversation-dominating. No more verbal tap-dancing for pennies of affirmation. It’s time to change.” She then promptly and ironically gets her work detail changed (this is the part where she’s staying at an Ashram in India) to “Key Hostess.” This prompts her to realize that “if God wanted me to be a shy girl with thick, dark hair, He would have made me that way, but He didn’t. Useful, then, might be to accept how I was made and embody myself fully therein.”

I, too, suffer from verbal promiscuity. I talk too much and I say more than I know I should, mostly because I think it will get someone to like me a little bit more. I attempt to barter my words for incremental, and rarely ever expressed, increases in affection. I guess deep down inside, or maybe not even that deep, I just want people to like me and I think that if I say something funny or interesting, it’ll win their affection. Sometimes I’ll repeat petty gossip, but other times, against my better judgment, I’ll disclose more substantive material told to me in confidence because I think it’ll show the listener that I think they’re important enough for me to break my pledge of confidence. This in turn will, you guessed it, get them to like me more…but in reality, all it probably does is just show them that I can’t be trusted with a secret.

I’ve often fantasized about being the kind of person that is quiet, yet possesses an undeniable presence. The strong, quiet type who isn’t concerned about what others think of him or her. The first part will most likely never be me. I’m loud and can be opinionated to the brink of obnoxiousness. But I do think it’s possible for me to get to a place where I’m not so concerned about how others perceive me. Basically, I need to accept how I was made and feel secure enough to embody myself fully therein. I don’t need to say that offensive joke to capture the room’s attention. I don’t need to make that nasty remark about someone I know you don’t like to try to build a bond between us. I don’t need to keep spewing words that aren’t even really in line with how I truly feel inside to stand out, to get attention, to get people to like me.

I am good. I am fine. I am perfect(ly imperfect).

Meeting Your Truth

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You know something’s your truth when it’s hard to write. When it’s so hard to write, you avoid writing it. You make excuses because you don’t want to have to deal with it face to face. Just remember that this is usually a sign that this something is very important. This something is most likely manifesting itself in other forms and holding you back in all kinds of disguised ways. So take the meeting. Even if you end up rescheduling a dozen times. Keep rescheduling. But make sure that one day, you show up.

Old Notes

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I found these old notes/ramblings from 2012 on my phone…I had a lot more angst back then.

April 23, 2012
I just can’t help feeling sad about where this society is going. Maybe that’s why I feel so lost about what I want to do. Maybe I just don’t want to be a part of it. Or maybe deep down inside I really do.
Looking at these fashion blogs, I just can’t believe how people spend their days. I’m imagining this girl getting up every morning to pick an outfit, put makeup on and find some photo worthy location to take pictures of herself. And then hundreds of thousands of us watch and want to do it too.

May 15, 2012
He will never get me. Perhaps no one ever will. Life for me is just a series of tiring events. I’m not even 30 and I already exhausted with life. I’m beginning to feel numb to pleasure. Facebook, Instagram, Dancing with the Stars…is this what our world has become?
There are corners of the world that aren’t focused on such things, but thats where you would be – in a little corner. Everybody wants to be seen but nobody wants to actually know anything. This makes me sad. And tired.

May 24, 2012
As I sit here reading John Locke’s introduction, I can’t help smiling. I just love this shit. Words. Is that weird? I feel like people would read this and think what kind of nonsense is this? What the fuck does this mean? But I ate up every word and thought each one was brilliantly selected. I felt that feeling I sometimes get…that burning desire I have to write that I just keep contained inside. I refuse to give it the air it needs to grow. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I’m saving the world from volumes of dribble.
I don’t know why but thoughts put into words just gives me the greatest pleasure. Maybe it comes with the territory of being a voracious thinker. When your whole world is thoughts and most of them are kept captive inside of you, it drives you mad. Maybe that’s why so many writers are so tortured. They’re just in their minds too much…there’s just too much noise and not enough paper.

OK, Here Goes

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For about 10 years now, I have been saying that my dream is to be a writer. However, in all those years I have not done anything to pursue this dream. Instead, I became a lawyer. When I realized I didn’t want to wake up 10-20 years later and hate my life, I decided to make a career change…into fashion. In all honesty, I enjoy what I do – it’s a hell of a lot more fun than law. But, deep down, I know that it’s not my passion. So why don’t I go after the thing I want most in life? Well, you know…it’s complicated.

Okay, that’s a lie. It’s actually quite simple. I can sum it up in one word: FEAR. Fear of not being good enough, fear of being judged, fear of uncertainty, and of course, that all crippling fear – fear of failure. I know I don’t have to have such a paralyzing fear of failure. I know that failure actually leads to success by eliminating things that don’t work. But, I also know how shitty failure feels and my desire to avoid that shitty feeling trumps my desire to reap the benefits of all the potentially beautiful things that can arise from failure.

Here’s the other thing: right now, my dream is just that – a dream. Untouched, it can remain a fantasy of my idealistic life. Once I try to make it a reality, it’ll become just that – a reality. And we all know how ugly and brutal reality can be. Also, I’m fully aware that once I really try my hand at writing, I may not even like it. What, then? I don’t have a backup dream! So instead of trying and possibly tarnishing this beautiful dream of mine, I prefer to keep it at arm’s length, preserved in its pristine condition…

…until now. I’m sick of living a lesser version of what my life could be. And I’m tired of letting fear control me. Now, I know that fear is not overcome in a day, a month, or even a year. This is a battle I will most likely be fighting for the rest of my life, but it’s okay. I will win some (like finally gathering up the courage to start this blog) and lose some (like constantly making excuses not to post), but more importantly, I know I will learn many invaluable lessons along the way (like whether I actually want to be a writer). Starting now, I am committing myself to doing something everyday, whether it be big or small, to see what this dream actually looks like.

Disclosure: I know that last part sounds all self-assured and ready to take on anything, but truth be told I am having a very negatively visceral reaction to putting this out there. Granted, there are probably all of three people who might read this, but the fact that I am simply declaring this to the universe makes me feel really vulnerable. I guess that’s that fear trying to take over again. Well, it’s all out there now. No turning back.