Posts Tagged ‘anxiety’

Taking control (social media)

I’ve written about paring down on social media previously, but I’m finding that it is something that periodically needs re-visiting.

Since starting to use “Facebook without friends” (enjoying articles and select pages, but not using it for connecting with friends) about 10 months ago, things have been much better. I have no regrets, despite the decrease in the number of people I communicate with regularly. Quality over quantity and all that, along with the fact that it is exhausting attempting to maintain so many connections and the constant influx of information was incredibly overwhelming. Unlike many others, I’m not a twitter or Instagram (what else is there? Are there others now?) person. I had less to detach from.

After removing the web browser from my phone (with discomfort but a profound sense of freedom) as well as “work” related e-mails, I did slip back somewhat. The browser crept back, the e-mail crept back in. Checking and searching slowly increased again, even if I didn’t actually spend much time at all when checking. My small amount of online shopping also became less contained in regards to when and where I did it. In addition, I also stopped putting my phone “away” (out of site in a special box where I could still hear it if desired), which increased compulsive checking of… the weather (what else was left?)

So, after running myself into the ground with various work things which in turn crossed over into phone use and e-mail checking and the like (it makes it all so much easier!), I stopped to re-evaluate. I needed, for the sake of my sanity, to take stock again.

This time I enabled restrictions on my phone, disabling all web browsers, the ability to download new applications (I.E. web browsers) and also inhibiting my ability to make any further paring down very difficult to undo (deleting my work related e-mail access.)

A trusted party has my restrictions pin number, and I don’t see her for at least a week, if not two. I have too much pride to contact her prior to the scheduled time. I doubt I’ll re-install after a week, but removing the ability to give into temptation in the first couple of weeks makes it much easier to stick to.

Again, there has been a combination of feelings – a profound sense of lightness and freedom, but also that slight discomfort. It is odd not to be able to google the answer to any question at any time. It’s difficult to not pick up my phone and compulsively check… the weather… but it gets easier by the hour. I put my phone away more and do word searches (on paper!) when watching TV to occupy my hands. I play Tetris on my 23 year old Gameboy. I am left to wonder about the answer of what ever I’m wondering about at any particular time; I’ve discovered (again) that it can actually be nice to not always find the answer… there is a nice feeling of mystery just being left to wonder.

Things are more peaceful. My mind is calmer. I am starting to find my feet again.

I still have access to all of these applications on my laptop, which I keep out of my main living area. I can still look things up or tend to e-mails or do work that I want or need to, but it is easier to enforce the needed time away from these things without them in the palm of my hand. If I really want or need to know something, I’ll go look it up. If I’m away from home or in bed at the time, I leave it, and if I care enough or it matters enough, then I’ll remember to look it up later; it’s amazing how rarely I do remember or care enough.

So, that’s my experience. Take something from it or don’t, but either way, it’s working for me.

Johansen X

 

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It’s just an experiment

When so many things seem so scary

and fear has you paralyzed

in the world of “I can’t”,

how about an experiment?

Start with a table, four columns (nice and neat):

  1. Date (that’s easy)
  2. The thing you’re scared of doing (naming it is okay)
  3. Rating the fear of the task out of 10 (that can be tricky)
  4. Reflecting on how doing the scary thing actually went (eh?)

That’s right, four columns, but five points…

Pity you can’t just sit at your laptop and columnize the missing task (that would be too easy).

Nope, the missing task you have to choose to do so that you can come back and fill our column four.

With column four already made and waiting for you, you have a reason to do the missing task.

You are a researcher;

you are setting out to discover the reality of column two

(glasses and note pad at the ready!)

Some times something will end up being as scary or as difficult as you imagined.

Some times it will start off scary but then end up being fun or worthwhile.

Some times it will be scary and then fun or relaxing and then scary again.

Some times you will wonder why you were scared at all.

Whatever the outcome, if you make it back to fill out column four,

then you have real life evidence that you survived and maybe even evidence that it is something worth going through the hard stuff to do again.

May you conduct many experiments and discover more things worth being scared for than not. If anyone asks you what you do for a living, just tell them you’re a researcher.

 

Copyright, Johansenwords.com, 2016

 

Accepting while hoping

Acceptance and hope do not have to be mutually exclusive.

Acceptance can still allow for hope for better, lighter, easier…

Resignation gives up on any hope.

Resignation is living it one static moment:

“This is how things are now, this is how things will always be.”

Refuse resignation.

Choose acceptance and hope, and like any juggler would, practice.

 

Copyright, Johansenwords.com, 2016

Finding Meaning, Creating Meaning

I think it is part of the human experience to seek meaning in our existence. I think it is also a common experience for most of us to at some time in our lives question whether there is meaning in our existence and common also to  feel the overwhelming pain of the feeling of “meaninglessness.” Why seek meaning if you perceive none? Because it makes life a heck of a lot more livable.

People find their meanings in so many different places. For some, it comes packaged as part of religion or belief in something greater than the self and humanity. For others it comes from the contentedness of humanity itself. For some in the experience of pleasure, for some in work or parenting or in a commitment to serve others. For some meaning can be found in the blossoming of a flower at yet for others it is a constant a struggle to find a sense of it at all. Where we find out meaning can change from year to year or even day to day.

Meaning can be found or discovered and just as easily, it can be shattered or lost.

I also believe that meaning can be created.

At a time when I was in the the depths of darkness and struggling to find a reason to continue, a wise friend put to me that asking “why live?” (as sincerely seeking a reason as I was) was a moot question that would get me nowhere and suggested that instead I ask myself the question “what would a meaningful like look life?” There was no overnight miracle escape from the darkness but what did occur was a profound and positive shift in my attention. When I stopped asking “why live?” and focused my energy on asking “what would a meaningful life look like?” I started experimenting. I also started playing with the idea that if I couldn’t find meaning, then maybe I could create meaning.

I feel a bit like an investigator at the moment. I live my days the best I can, juggling struggles and joys, and all the while, I take notes. In years past, I used to write more about what was wrong, which is fine if it works as a constructive outlet, but for me became a cycle of negativity. Now I write notes and pieces about “what worked?”, “what made living a little easier today?”, “what helped me feel more connected?”, “what did I do that brought about that joy?”, “what was it I did that made riding out that rough wave possible?”

I write because in times of darkness or times of overwhelm, I forget. I forget that it is possible to ride out rough waves, I forget that joy is possible, I forget what I care about and I even forget who cares about me. I forget all of those things that make my life meaningful. Writing these notes for me doesn’t simply record moments of joy or techniques that aid in tough times, but also re-enforce the existence of them by providing tangible evidence; evidence that there are things that help in tough times and evidence that there are things in my life that are important to me. The evidence or tips contained in that journal serve to strengthen the knowledge at the time and also provides something that I can refer back to when I lose my way. It’s also one reason I’ve started writing here again.

The other day I lost my way. All I could see was the darkness and I felt terrified –  I couldn’t for the life of me remember how I found the light the last time, what I cared about or why or how I’d occupied myself in the easier weeks that had just passed. I knew that I’d done something though and something intentional because I’d been taking mental and physical notes. First I remembered that it was difficult and felt counter intuitive at the time. Second, I remembered it involved connecting with others and getting out of the house / changing my environment. Something inside told me that walking helped, too. I remembered walking. Eventually I remembered that going to the library at some point had been helpful (and free!). In the end I went against everything I felt like doing and left my house to walk o the library, calling a close friend to chat to on the way. Each of these things meant something to me: connection or community or friendship or health. Later that day, after the fact, a little light found its way in. Then, when other things became illuminated I took more tried and true steps and the darkness eased that little more; I could remember more of what I cared about. It was still a rough day but there were some easier moments and some brighter moments. Even more importantly, instead of taking action that would have increased the darkness, I moved just a little toward the light and toward a day that, for me, held meaning. The more the darkness eased, the more I was able to remember what helped previously and to act on that knowledge. The knowledge I have now isn’t the end of it though and the tools I use today might not be the tools I use tomorrow. The things that make one day feel meaningful to me at that time may be the same or different the next, but there are themes. Constantly, constantly, I try new things, search for more tools, find different ways to cope and grow and build things that are meaningful into my day to day existence… and when something helps or something works, I document it.

For me, my daily meaning is very tied in with my values. I do have a broader, overarching meaning in preventing undue suffering, which for those who care about me means my choosing to stick around on this planet. That, however, it is not enough to help me live each day well. To live each day well I need to be doing things that line up with my core vales: community, family, connectedness, sustainable living,  health, integrity, service.

Today the darkness was a little closer again and things felt a little precarious, so I wrote in reflection a few points of things that had already generated slivers of light and helped me make it as far as I had – things that I care about:

  • handwriting a postcard to my two year old niece (family, connectedness, communication),
  • feeling more energized (after) doing yoga (health),
  • the small feeling of accomplishment in experiencing progress in my flute playing (achievement),
  • looking forward to seeing a friend in the afternoon (inter-connectedness, friendship, community),
  • riding my bike to my friend’s place instead of driving (sustainable living, health).

Writing them helped me see them, remember them, feel them, and tuck them away for future reference. Writing them helped me acknowledge their existence.

Meaning doesn’t always come from the places we expect, or even the places we look. Some times, meaning comes from those things we don’t feel like doing at the time (the same with motivation). Some times the meaning and the meaningful life simply comes from the search itself.

Wherever it comes from for you, embrace it and remember it.

Whenever you are without it, remember that it can return, maybe from a different place than last time.

Whenever you are feeling without hope, know that the search (or better yet, creation) is worth it. When your mind asks you “why bother?” remind it that with meaning, wherever it comes from, life is SO much more do-able (even enjoyable).

Wherever you eventually find it, don’t forget to take notes – it may make it so much easier the next time.

And may peace be with you…

Johansen

 

 

 

 

Groundlessness

Rome has fallen,
nothing to grasp to.
Grow wings?
Scavenge for materials to build a platform?
There is nothing.
You fall.
Perpetually.
You just fall.
But if you are falling perpetually and
there is no ground,
is it falling?
To fall, you must be in a direction,
headed toward something.
If there is nothing to fall toward
then where are you?
What are you?
You are in a state of groundlessness.
THE most scary, frightening state
available. You cannot grasp.
There is nothing to hold to.
All anchors are illusions
and in this state… You see them for that.

So what does that leave you?

Only this moment.
Only. This. Moment.

Copyright, Johansenwords.com, 2016