The Truth about Truths: Embracing and Navigating Contradiction in and Beyond Recovery
Something I learned in therapy was that two things can be true at the same time. It can be that the way someone else views something may completely contradict the way you see it, but ultimately both views are true because both of you are experiencing it. This two truths concept also applies to thoughts and beliefs we host within ourselves.
A lot of the therapy I underwent for my eating disorder recovery focused on identifying and embracing these kinds of insistent contradictions.
For example, one truth I held steadfastly was, “I don’t want an eating disorder.” And another equally real truth I had was “I am scared to give up my eating disorder.”
The key to being able to navigate both truths is to embrace them both— NOT set them up in conflict to one another. The first step is as simple and as subtle as word choice when speaking or even thinking about them.
We tend to use “but” when comparing two things that seem to contradict one another:
“I don’t want an eating disorder BUT I am scared to give it up.”
However, something changes when you replace that “but” for “and”:
“I don’t want an eating disorder, AND I am afraid to give it up.”
The latter validates both perceptions but does NOT so planitively put one above the other.
“But” infers that the fear is stronger than the will to live without an ED. “And” allows the possibility to be afraid, but do it anyways.
There is a story about a warrior and his meeting with fear, taught by Pema Chodron. The ultimate revelation the young warrior comes away with from this meeting is that bravery is NOT the absence of fear; It is feeling the fear, BELIEVING it, with every cell in your body, and facing it anyways.
It is not: “I want to, BUT I am afraid.” It is: “I want to, AND I am afraid.”
Unlike the former, which almost immediately dismisses any action, the latter births the opportunity for both truths to coexist, and for the fear to be conquered.
I am not currently in therapy, and I’m not really “recovering” anymore, but I am still living in this place of navigating two truths.
A big one right now that I hold is: “I am so grateful to have made it this far in my recovery, AND I am sometimes nostalgic for the identity my eating disorder gave me.”
Another is: “I am proud of my body, and I love being healthy AND I often think I would be happier if I lost weight.”
Sometimes these truths are even more specific to a moment. Take this past week for example, when I took a spontaneous trip to a family cottage for some r&r by the lake. I was having repeating thoughts of “I really want to get a good sweat from a workout AND I want to relax and do nothing.”
And on a similar train: “I feel guilty and not hungry for dinner from eating so many appetizers on the dock AND I am still looking forward to eating more at dinner.”
It’s hard, honestly, navigating these two often equally compelling voices. Ultimately, the healthier one always drowns out the one I know instinctively is rooted in my ED neural pathways. That’s what makes it uncomfortable. Continuing to eat, and rest, and attempt to feel happy and at ease in my skin, and to NOT fixate on what I eat or how much I weigh, while simultaneously living with this feeling that I “should” be doing a lot of the things that I used to do (a lot of things that a lot of people without EDs do: opting for “healthier” options, watching what they eat, having a strict workout regime, etc.)
Sometimes, it feels like I’m driving backwards on the highway, trying to live up to the healthier truth.
Even though I am pretty good at this point at doing the right things for my mental and physical health, there are still moments when it seems like the wrong thing.
Restricting and exercise were always a quick fix for any larger stressor in my life.
Fighting with my family? Don’t eat dinner.
Feeling sad or lonely that I didn’t have plans on a friday night? Go for a run.
Realizing how lonely I am, feeling disconnected from all my friends? Try even harder to change my body, thinking if I looked the way I thought I “should” look, I would be more likable, more loveable, and regain those kinds of connections I had thwarted.
None of these quick fixes ever really fixed anything, obviously. They only led me further into my eating disorder and farther from the kind of connection and happiness I was seeking.
So I do realistically and rationally understand that attempting to change my body, or start actively controlling my food or exercise is NOT the answer to any of my concerns today. But (or and, as I should say), I still have fleeting thoughts that these behaviours will.
I’m writing this blog post right now to remind myself of this ultimate truth: two things can be totally contradictory and still coexist equally as truths. Feelings are real, and valid, but they do NOT need to dictate our actions. We can feel the fear, believe it, and face it anyways.
Hopefully this reminder might render itself useful for you too.
What are some conflicting or contrasting beliefs that you hold? How might replacing that “but” with “and” alter your perception of how to navigate them? Often the right path is the hardest one to take.
Don’t sell yourself short by opting for the road that feels easiest in the moment, but ultimately never gets you to the place you wanted to get to in the first place.
Embrace the “and.” Do the hard thing. And in the moments where you fall victim to the contradiction, have the self-compassion and grace to pick yourself back up and carry on, because life is too short to live in debt to your own regrets anyways.
Love and light,
Jae
2022: A Year of Gains
2022 was a year I gained a lot. And I don’t just mean weight gains over the holidays. I am talking about the kind of mental, emotional, and yes, physical gains, that come when you open yourself to the opportunities that surround you.
This past year I have been gifted a lot of amazing experiences. I travelled (several times) to weddings, as well as a trip to Vegas.
I competed in my first pole competition for PSO Canada East.
I adopted a kitten who has become a well know adventure cat.
I got a permanent teaching position, raising me above the uncertainty of daily and long term occassional work, and into a new salary range.
I also made a new circle of friends within my Toronto neighbourhood, including neighbours in my building to share laughs and blunts and even keys with whenever we need a pet fed or walked.
And perhaps most noteably, I found a partner who is essentially the male version of myself, and who I love more than everything I love put together.
Truly, Ive had a lot of gains this year, as you can see. But it doesnt stop there. With all thuis happiness that has come my way, I also gained weight. I’m not going into numbers here, and I am not trying to make it seem as if I gained so much that I would be unrecognizeable on the street, but I will say certain clothes that fit me other Christmases would be a squeeze this year.
Sometimes I see a picture of myself or a video and feel a twinge of guilt that I’ve let my body go— even minimally. But the truth is, I really don’t think I could have had all the experiences and other life gains this year if I hadn’t.
This year, I truly commited myself to prioritizing connections and making memories over controlling my body. I made the choice to go out for drinks or to concerts and skip a workout. I made the choice to join in a group thai food order, or partake in a feast of indian food. I made the choice to ease up on my strict vegan tendencies and eat the muffin made with eggs, or try a bite of a a cheese stuffed ravioli.
I’m not saying that any of these things alone are the cause of a jump on a scale. I know friends and family members who enjoy all of the above on a regular basis, and their bodies stay pretty much the same. And I know continuing to be more relaxed around food, and joining in and sharing these meals and treats with others, I will not continue to gain weight for ever. Actually, I don’t think I’’ve really gained anything since I started writing this post a few weeks ago.
But even if I did, I wouldn’t regret it. The small, tight body that I had , particularly during my days of extreme restriction was a physical embodiment of my tight and rigid thinking. My life was about as full and voluptuous as my figure. In other words, the exact opposite. My days were calculated, measured, controlled.
And anything that threatened to disrupt that (such as a birthday dinner or night out) caused me anxiety and fear, instead of the excitement and revelry it should have.
Last January, I wrote a 2022 Manifesto for how I wanted to live my life. One of the things I wrote was “Memories over Calories.”
I’m so happy to say that I committed to that vision. And while it was not always easy or perfectly executed, I ended 2022 with more memories and moments of love and beauty and spontaneity than I could have imagined.
I’m hoping to gain even more in 2023. Here’s to making all the memories, joining in, and always prioritixing people and connection over numbers.
What are you hoping to gain this year?
Happy 2023,
-Jae
The Fear of Being “Ordinary” (and why being average is perfectly enough)
“Shoot for the moon. For even if you fail, you will still land among the stars.”
This was the poster that greeted me on my first day in my Grade 4 classroom. It was hung by my kind and enthusiastic teacher, who wanted nothing more than to inspire and motivate her students to live up to their potential; the message essentially being to do better, we must aim for nothing less than the best.
As innocent this message may seem, it stems from a “never enough” mentality that is destructively pervasive in our culture. A mentality that being ordinary is not enough, and that in order to be “good” we must be special.
We must do whatever it takes to be extraordinary.
Throughout our lives, many of us have fallen victim to this mentality of self-deciprecation. We learn to view '“average,” “normal,” and “ordinary” as lacking. We fear that falling into the category of “average” is settling for a lesser identity, or accepting a loss of power.
When we hear the word “ordinary,” it is loaded with negative connotations of monotony, or boredom, or the mundane. When at is essence, ordinary is a very neutral term— and who is to say, not a positive one?
For a long time, I considered being “ordinary” a failure to live up to my potential.
And its a shame (and quite f***ed up really) to walk around carrying this fear of ordinary. Ordinary is synonymous with average. And average quite literally means “the norm”-- the category most people and endeavours fall into (duh).
By rebuking and fighting anything that falls in this category of average- whether it be our average job, average body, average grade, or average skill or ability at a sport or art or hobby- you are ultimately leaving yourself with very little chance to be happy.
This pursuit of the extraordinary is NOT something for which we can really blame ourselves. It is something that is pervasive in our society, birthed in the same seeds that planted the American Dream, and the unquenchable thirst for “more” and “better” that consumes and drives our modern lives.
Its these seeds planted in you with the best intentions and love when you were little, with parents and loving adults promising you that “you can be whatever you want to be,” and that “no dream is too big.”
You take one dance class and they assure you that you were on your way to become a prima ballerina. You take a liking to your family dog and they start setting aside a fund for vet school. You sing and you dance and you are told you can grow up to be a famous performer, that all you have to do is “try,” and to “believe in yourself.”
Unfortunately, the biggest dreams often require much more than that.
I grew up with these messages. And I never questioned it, or even thought it strange. Still today, I will find myself making the same grandiose statements to the kids that I teach: “Oh wow, percy, look at that beautiful drawing! You are going to have a painting in a gallery one day!” and Aliza, you can be an olympic gymnast!”
Of course, encouraging kids to try hard and “dream big” is important to build their sense of worth and self-confidence. But what about when they are 18, and not admitted to art school? Or 25 and they only job they can get is some entry level accounting work, far from the “pursue your passion” speech they had been spoon-fed ever since they were being spoon-fed?
And who knows, maybe Aliza will be an olympic gymnast, and Percy a famous artist. But chances are, they will not. But that does NOT mean they will not find happy, meaningful, and rewarding lives.
The truth is, the majority of people in our society are working average jobs, making average wages, in so called “ordinary” fields or professions. I am sure Karen did NOT dream of growing up to be a retail manager for a tile company. And while these kinds of jobs are likely NOT anyone’s true passion or life calling, they are doing work integral to the functioning of our society.
And who is to say that people that are working these mediocre or average jobs, are living lives that are any less fulfilling or meaningful or joyful, than someone working in a so-called “noble” profession.
For myself, this fixation on the extraordinary kept me in a long season of tire spinning— wanting to do everything, but nothing seemed enough. I was rooted to the spot, unable to take a step in any direction afraid of stumbling into a career that was anything less than my “calling.”
I did not want to settle for anything less than the glamorous dreams I had birthed unto me as a kid. Respectively, I dreamed I would grow up to become a vet, a gymnast, an olympic snowboarder, a best-selling author, a broadway star, a professional horseback rider/trainer. and a plant-based chef/food blogger.
Notice what each of these dreams have in common: the element of fame, and of top-tierdom, of being the best.
It wasn’t even so much as choosing which of these paths to purse that caused me so much angst, but the very true possibility that whatever I did, that I would not be able to do well enough to achieve the level of fame or recognition that I so valued. I wanted my name to be known, whatever I did. I wanted to turn heads when I walked into a room. I wanted to be anything but ordinary. Because to be ordinary, to have an average, unknown existence, felt worse than failure.
This has been a big obstacle for me in recovery too. Contrary to widespread perceptions of eating disorders, I never saw myself as fat, or even overweight. I never considered myself to be ugly. Even when I was in the depths of ED, avoiding mirrors and hiding from my appearance, I still innately understood that on the spectrum of ugly to beautiful, or fat to thin, that in both categories I was at least “average.”
But that didn’t stop me from feeling loathing towards my body. I did not want to be average. I wanted to be thin, uniquely so. I wanted bones. And then I wanted to be the fittest. I wanted washboard abs and veiny arms, and rock hard limbs. I wanted to turn heads. And in that pursuit of extraordinary, I spent years iron-fisting my body to be my masterpiece.
If I were to get all psychological about it now, I could say that all the fear and uncertainty and pressure I was feeling about what I would do with my life, I channeled into my feelings about my body.
As cliche as it is true, the lack of control and powerless I felt over the greater meaning of my existence, was compensated by exerting control where I could— controlling my food, and my body. But this is tangential, so I will leave this for another post.
In essence, an “average body” was something I dreaded and feared. Even being told that I was approaching a “normal” weight, I felt like a failure.
I felt like I was sliding down the rungs of a ladder I had given years of my life and all of my strength to climb. I was letting myself go, and slipping back into the throes of mediocrity.
I felt silly, and narcissistic, admitting to this realization, but it was truly how it felt. Allowing myself to settle at an “average” weight really did feel like I was giving up.
This is not unique thinking. I am NOT the one lone human who feels dissatisfied with a perfectly good and “normal” body. Countless studies have reported a surprising percentage of the population, all genders and ages (although especially young women) suffer from negative body image, and desire to change or “fix” their appearance.
Once again, we can thank the glamorized body ideals that pervade our society. With every photoshopped, face-tuned, airbrushed image posted to a feed, what is extraordinary is presented as a standard to which we perpetually struggle to live up to.
There was lots bundled into the pile of kindling that ignited my eating disorder, but a significant piece was the unattainable ideal of what I should (could) look like -- I just needed to try.
It takes a lot of work, a lot of time, and a lot of therapy to rewire the belief that the extraordinary is achievable simply through try. And even more to come to accept the ordinary, the normal, the “what is” as just as worthy and meaningful.
I am now in a very average position in my life; I am paying an average rent, living in a perfectly average house, working a very average, but rewarding job as a teacher; I am at an average weight, in an ordinary body, that is beautifully healthy and functioning. I bake sourdough bread that is far from perfect, but tasty. I take pole classes with fellow students and instructors that keep me humble about how much I still have to learn. And I love every minute of it.
I am coming to realize that the worst part of being “ordinary” is holding on to the belief that you shouldn’t be.
As soon as you can let that go, and embrace what is for exactly how it is, happiness and meaning and purpose just start pooling at your feet, as if a hose has just been unkinked and freed to flow.
There is a fine line between self-acceptance and self-improvement. I may never be a vet or an olympic snowboarder or a broadway singer. I will never look like a Victoria secret angel, or be 5’8 with long legs and a short torso.
But I can be perfectly happy and fulfilled working towards being the best version of average me, teaching and writing and riding and snowboarding for the joy of it, laughing over my mistakes and failures, and making connections with other people who are equally as human-- NOT allowing my insecurities and shame to isolate me.
This is self-acceptance. To be okay and happy exactly as you are, and where you are, grateful for you in all its ordinary excellence.
And once you do that, you might start to notice where meaning and happiness truly reside— and be free from the unattainable ideals of perfection.
Dating at 2 Metres Apart (Finding Connection Without Getting Close)
Im seeing this guy right now. If it was different circumstances, I might even consider it a relationship. However, attempting to establish a connection with someone new while also adhering to social distance guidelines has turned something already as complicated and frustrating as dating into a whole new beast.
Back in March, when this pandemic was just taking off the ground, I basically deleted all the dating apps on my phone. There was no room in my mind to think about dating or making new connections when getting groceries and securing toilet paper was already anxiety-inducing.
For two months I saw no one outside of my family who lived with me, and the occasional friend at a distance. There were no parties or dance floors or groups of people mingling in parks. Even passing people at the store or on the street assumed a new kind of etiquette, a closed-mouth smile, with minimal words being very conscious of spit particles of contagion. I didn’t realize how much I craved those spontaneous interactions and encounters with other humans outside of my own circle.
Seeing only the same few faces all the time, my world started feeling uncomfortably small and uneventful, and my own existence so lonely and disconnected, that I found myself swiping.
At first, I didn’t even have any real intention of meeting any of the guys that messaged me. I was just looking to see that there were others and experiences that existed beyond my own small suburban radius of activity. I heard some people had started doing dates over zoom or video calling, but I find it hard enough engaging with people I know through that medium, let alone a relative stranger.
I swiped left— a lot. But I was surprised when I found myself swiping right on several occasions. A couple conversations felt real and compelling enough that I felt willing to meet, while keeping a two meter distance apart.
By that time, I had already expanded my own social activities to including meeting up with a handful of friends at parks, or for a social distance walk or hike, and so I simply applied the same guidelines to my “match” meet-ups: two meters apart, no sharing food or drinks, stay outside, in uncrowded places.
The reality of social distanced dating does not quite fit so neatly in a sentence. So here is my list of tips and tricks for dating during Covid-19.
Dating During Quarantine: Tips and Lessons
People have different ideas about social distancing, and how to do it. If you’re concerned for yourself or members of your household, it helps to be upfront with what you’re comfortable with before the actual meet up. Walking into a date where you committed to a two metre rule, only to find yourself dodging an unsolicited hug upon arrival sets in some unwanted friction before you even get to hello. It’s much easier to convey your expectations and code of conduct while texting the location of where to meet— not after a moment of awkward miscommunication.
The less interested you are in a guy, the easier you will find it to stay socially distanced. If twenty minutes into a date you realize you never necessarily need to see that person again, you will likely not be fighting urges to jump in their arms, or even hug goodbye. And you won’t be overly worries about how your own safety guidelines might be coming off as “rude” or “standoffish.”
The more connected or attracted you feel, the more likely you will find yourself tempted to break your own rules.
Buyer beware. If you’re falling head over heels for the person you are seeing, it may be more difficult to follow through on your initial plan of action (or inaction). Here is where this pandemic takes on the role of villain or antagonist in what may seem to be the seedling of a romantic tragedy. After a few weeks of “social distance” dates with a guy I was falling for quite heavily, I found myself scribing descriptions of our ill-fated romance in my head: a love stronger than a virus. or worth the risk: a corona connection. There was a few weeks that I was walking a very fine line to throwing all of my social distance rules out the window. If I hadn’t been living at home at the time with my 60 year old parents, 84 year old grandfather, and hypochondriac sister, I probably would have. However, I did have the rationality to let the respect for the health of my family preside over what I now recognize to be something more like puppy love.
Dating at 2 metres apart brings a whole new realm of awkwardness and insecurity.
The first date its early enough to settle in to the no contact rule. However, if you like each other, and continue meeting up, keeping distance becomes a gateway for other anxieties. You’ve already covered all the basics about each other in conversation, work, family, pets, hobbies, current events, etc. and have probably shared some stories about travelling or your dog or the dumb thing your colleague did. In a covid-free world, this is the point where touching would just start to come naturally: sitting close on the same side of a table, holding hands walking on the street, a hug hello, and maybe a kiss good night. The “seeing each other” stage during social distancing involves a lot more talking. So much more that it had me questioning my initial attraction, frustration that I was not able to act on it when I wanted to, and doubt and confusion about what the hell we were doing here anyways?
Dating Apps During Quarantine
I used to use dating apps mostly for physical connection-- I wanted to feel wanted. This pandemic has obliterated that physical aspect, leaving us to rely upon little else than our feelings and emotions, and our thoughts and words as foundations of that connection.
Its strange, and often infuriating. It feels unfair that something as innocent as hug or a kiss is practically illegal.
However, it is not completely a bad thing.
The Silver-Lining
I’ve dated people before for longer than I should have, mistaking the physical connection for real substance or potential. Guys that were quick to hold my hand, greet me with a hug and a kiss, made me feel wanted, and I liked that feeling so much I didn’t always realize I liked the person significantly less. Yeah, a few weeks of long conversations and waved goodbyes denies the opportunity for testing out the waters of physical attraction.
And I’m not referring to sex here. Simply the small acts of touch, from holding hands, sitting close together, an arm around a shoulder, a hand on a knee. Little things, that can send a little zing through you if that attraction is there. And if there’s no zing, that’s all the information you need.
However, sometimes, you don’t recognize that zing of attraction until that first touch, whether it be a hug or a kiss or a hand on your shoulder. And that is where the two metres apart rule makes it tricky. You can get along super well, talk for hours on end, and think maybe, maybe, you’re attracted to that person, but unsure at a distance that feels so close yet so far.
So how do you deal with it?
I’m figuring that out myself, slowly. The answer is NOT to say “fuck it all,” throw caution to the wind, and fling your arms around them proclaiming the strength and power of love. That’s called being an irresponsible human, especially if you live with anyone in the vulnerable population (ie. your parents over 50).
It also is NOT giving up on dating, and professing your vows of singledom until the end of the pandemic (unless that is exactly what you feel you need- all the power to you).
I suppose the answer is to keep treading forward, slowly, one day and one week at a time.
Keep meeting for those social distance walks or park dates. Have those three hour conversations. If you find yourselves running out of things to talk about after 4 or 5 dates, what will your conversation be like 5 months or even 5 years from now in a long-term relationship? That might be a sign that you are not fated for one another, and its probably a good thing you did not move faster any sooner.
However, if several dates and weeks in you only find yourself more attracted and connected to a person, you can start having discussions about how to move forward together. Maybe it is each person getting tested, and if both negative, including that person in your pod of less than ten (the current Ontario regulation). Or if the sizes of your pods are pushing it already, pack up on a camping trip together or a cottage stay, making a plan to get tested and isolate until each of your results come back to protect your loved ones.
In the meantime, you’ll be building a rock solid personal connection, making the next steps all that more exciting.
And if you are getting more frustrated than excited by the prospect of dating -- or the prospects themselves-- this is also a good time to dedicate your energy to simply your own growth and endeavors. Just like some of the best workouts follow a good week or two of rest, some time away from dating can be just the thing to reset and renew your own mental and emotional well-being.
In a nutshell, you do you. Don’t speed ahead only to regret it later. Be here, now, and be picky about who you want to spend this present with.
To my single pringles out there, how are you navigating dating right now?
And to my happily involved friends, how is your relationship affected by social distancing?
Keep seeking the sunshine,
Jordan xoxo
5 Things To Do Everyday to stay Sane (and Balanced) During Isolation
As this period of isolation drags on, a lot of us are starting to feel some discomfort at being cooped up in our houses. The novelty of being able to wear your pajamas all day and binge netflix may be starting to wear off. Even the biggest introverts and homebodies may be finding themselves craving a change of scenery other than their own four walls. But the truth is, social distancing is far from over. And in order to make it through with our mental health intact, we need to do MORE than just cope.
Right now, I am still working as a teacher, but I have had to adapt from chasing five year olds around a classroom, to teaching online. Now my day involves sitting at my computer to create and upload assignments, record and edit videos, and communicate with students and families.
Between this work, the blog, and the online ABQ course I am currently in, I have found myself to be spending most of my waking hours on my computer-- something that I never did before. This is still taking some getting used to. I’m noticing the days that I spend the majority of it in front of the screen, the more “blah” I feel by the time evening comes around, regardless of how productive I have been.
Structured Days and Mental Transitions
Even those working from home who are doing similar desk work that they may have before have still felt a toll on their mental health and energy levels from the change in environment. Just the act of dressing in proper clothes, out of the house, and to the office where you are commune with your coworkers inserts very real frames and borders in our day that help us transition from home to work (and everywhere in between), so that we are more present and engaged in each environment.
Working from home, we are missing those physical aspects, from the coffee run on your way to work, to packing your lunch or your gym bag, or tapping your presto card as you fly into the subway, that cue a mental shift, transitioning us from whatever we were doing or thinking before, to the moment at hand.
A change in environment can really make all the difference to productivity
For myself, whenever I had a big chunk of writing or other work I needed to get done, I would head out to a coffee shop (remember those?). The price of a fancy soy matcha latte was always worth the couple hours of uninterrupted state of flow I would enter, and come out with a much greater quantity and quality of writing than I would ever be able to accomplish at home.
Simply the act of leaving my house with my backpack, and sitting down at a counter that was not the same one that I ate my breakfast at that morning, with no fridge or dog or random task to distract me, allowed me to fully immerse myself in my work— even if it took a few minutes to settle in.
Making the Most of Days at Home
To recreate some of that sense of structure, some people talk about waking up, putting on real clothes, maybe even doing some makeup before getting to work in their day. However, many of us can’t quite be bothered enough to do all that-- especially if they’re not working a regular job at the moment. That being said, I still think it is important to incorporate a few different things into your day that help keep you feeling sane, balanced, and in a state of flow, regardless of what you have on your schedule.
Here are five things that I do everyday, to keep my sanity and stay in flow:
1. Mindful Movement
Before this quarantine, I rarely meditated. I used to quite a bit during my YTT, but since then, I’ve largely fallen off the wagon. When I had thirty minutes in the morning before heading to work, I figured it was more productive to do an asana yoga practice. However, with few external limits on time, I decided to try taking up a seated meditation practice again. I’ve now been doing it every day for over a month, and I’m hooked.
Some mornings, I sit for five minutes, and sometimes, up to thirty, Usually, I last about 15 or 20 before rolling into some gentle, flowing movement to the soundtrack of my favourite yoga playlist. I’ll move however slowly or intensely as feels good that morning.
Sometimes it’s gentle side bends and lolling around on the floor, and other mornings, it’s sun salutations, warrior poses and a couple planks.
I do my best to keep it mindful, flowy and intuitive-- not counting reps, or holds, or anything taking me out of the breath and into a more traditional workout that spikes cortisol.
2. Journal
Every morning, I write in my journal. If I have lots of thoughts swarming my mind, or I am feeling a little meh and don’t quite know why, I just word vomit. No filter, I pour whatever is going through my mind onto my paper. I write until I feel my thoughts start to shift, which looks a little different each day, whether it's after a half page or three. While I don’t always write in such depth everyday, every single morning, I take the time to make a list of three goals or tasks I want to complete.
Goal setting journal from Lametto Rose
I’ve been using the 3 Journal that my brother gifted me for Christmas. I love its simplicity, and the space it has at the end of every week to reflect on what you have accomplished.
The first one is usually something for work, whether its creating lessons, or going through assignments.
The second is often something due for my online course, a blog post I want to write, or something else of productive nature.
The third is usually not so pressing, I could technically push it to the next day, but accomplishing it that day would be realistic, and rewarding. Perhaps it is going to the grocery store, cooking or baking something to feed you for a couple of meals, or even an act of self care such as reading a couple chapters of the novel that’s on your bed stand or doing a zoom class of some kind.
I could add lots more to this list, but I like to keep it at three, because it makes it feel very doable to check them all off, and forces me to prioritize as I write what to dedicate my time and energy to that day. And that way, if I get everything done, I can relax into doing whatever else it is I want to do without feeling like I am not being “productive.”
3. Get Outside
one of my daily walks with my fur baby.
Regardless how much stuff on my computer I need to get done, I make it a priority to get outside everyday, whether it’s taking my dog to the park or a longer excursion that takes most of the afternoon. If it’s nice out, I will try to incorporate being outside with as much of my day as possible.
On warm sunny mornings, I find myself doing my meditation and yoga outside. If the glare isn’t bad, I will even set up my laptop or ipad in a sunny spot to do some writing. Or I will take my breakfast or lunch and eat it outside.
It sounds so little and so simple, but I feel immensely lighter after spending some time out in fresh air. If you have the time, go for a walk, however long you have, without rushing yourself (or run if that's what you prefer!).
In my little patch of the suburbs, it’s pretty amazing to see the little ways my community has made an effort to reach out and support each other: there are childrens’ art work in windows facing the street, signs and white ribbons tied around trees in support of front line workers, and motivational chalk drawings on driveways and sidewalks, spreading messages of hope and positivity.
And even while staying acceptably distanced, it really fosters a sense of community and connectedness to witness others out and about just like I am, whether its on a bike, with a wagon of kids, or a happy dog on a leash. It’s a comforting reminder that we are all in this together.
4. Connect (Do Something Social)
I try to chat with at least one friend or loved one everyday. Sometimes its over zoom or facetime, but mostly, I will hit two birds with one stone and have a long phone call while walking in the neighbourhood.
It’s so easy to go days without talking to anyone besides the people we are living with. Sometimes I feel like I have to push myself to commit to a phone date or group virtual meetup. However, I always always ALWAYS, hang up (or sign off) feeling happy and grateful for making the time to be social.
Also, I am trying to be better at keeping up with texting and group chat conversations. Admittedly, I definitely fall into the bad texter category, having every intention to respond to a message “in a bit” and letting it end up in the graveyard of unread and unopened messages in my inbox.
Before covid, it was a little easier to beg forgiveness, seeing many of these people in person, but now that in-person encounters are no longer the norm, I can’t use the rationale. So if I get a message, I try to respond right away… ideally. If you are my friend, reading this and rolling your eyes, I am sorry and I love you. Please get on my case!
Check out my post on how to fight loneliness during quarantine for some other ideas of how to stay connected.
5. Create (State of Flow)
for me, this usually comes in the form of writing. Oftentimes, my morning journaling becomes an act of creating all in itself. Creativity also seeps into my movement practice, whether its flowing intuitively to the music on my yoga-inspired playlist, or having a spontaneous dance party with a whole lot of drama and feeling in my basement.
Exercise your right-side brain through doing something creative each day.
It can also be painting, drawing, playing in a instrument, making a recipe, writing poetry or a story, taking pictures, posting on social media something of a little meaning, or anything else that moves you from a place of consumer to creator.
Instead of allowing life to just happen to you, make something of your own doing. In whatever form or outlet that takes for you, let go of expectations, allow yourself to fall into a state of flow, and let whatever comes up, come out and into the world.
Creativity is NOT a gift or talent that is reserved only for “artists.” Rather, creativity is a muscle, that can be strengthened and honed through regular practice. Making a commitment to exercising your creative muscle, tapping into the right hemisphere of your brain, may increase your resilience, your productivity, and your mental and emotional well-being.
Creative tasks allow us to enter a state of meditative focus and flow, and in turn allow us greater insight into our thoughts and internal feelings that we may have difficulty processing or expressing otherwise.
Putting These Things into Practice
How you go about tackling each of these aspects is up to you-- maybe you improvise a little, finding ways to incorporate each one as the day goes on, or maybe you pencil each in at different, specific times, if you think you may need a little more motivation. Whatever you choose, be realistic.
Still spending my days in my PJ’s doing “unproductve things” like lazing around with Jaeda
Think about how you usually feel at different times of the day. If you know you are ready for a nap by 4 PM, it may NOT be the hour to schedule in exercise. If you have been staying up late watching Modern Family every night, committing to meditate as the sun is coming up also might be stretching it.
For myself, I haven’t been holding myself to any firm schedule. When I wake up, I think of my day in terms of chunks, and then I think of what I need to do and in which “chunk” it might fit best.
For example, I do my lesson planning in the morning after breakfast, go for a walk and phone a friend when its the sunniest time of the afternoon, and spend a few hours before dinner writing and blogging.
This sounds quite productive, and many days I feel quite accomplished by the time I’m sitting in front of another Game of Thrones episode with my family.
However, there are still several hours of the day that I am doing whatever little tasks or less-productive activities catch my interest— from doing the laundry I’ve been putting off for weeks, watching netflix, doing handstands around the house, and more often than I care to admit, mindlessly scrolling social media.
But what can I say?
I am human, and this pandemic has shaken all of us out of our routines. We are all getting used to the new normal. And in light of that, we should be giving ourselves and each other the time and space to adjust and adapt to whatever that looks like for each of us.
What has happened to your daily routine during Covid-19?
What commitments have you made, or do you want to make, to help you adjust to this new normal?
Keep on keeping on,
Jordan
xoxox
Alone Together: Staying Connected in Isolation
A screenshot of a much needed Zoom hangout with friends.
A lot of us are feeling a little lonely these days. Implemented regulations and measures for social distancing and self-isolation are confining us to our homes, with our handful of roommates or family members, or partner, or just ourselves.
We are innately social creatures, who thrive with the company and connection to other beings. Even the most extreme introvert, who cherishes "alone-time,” still craves the presence of others (in smaller doses).
People on every part of the spectrum of personality can experience loneliness— especially in a time like this, in the midst of global pandemic which we do not know for how long, or how severely, will persist.
Even if we are isolating with someone, it does not make up for the countless other interactions that used to fill our lives with a sense of connection and community: lunch break gossiping with your coworkers, a Friday night staying out too late with your friends, the first date with that person you matched with on hinge, or even the morning banter with the barista who made you your latte.
I miss baristas and morning coffee runs.
In each of these exchanges, we experience a shift in our mentality and our projection of who we are, stepping out of our inner space of internal thoughts and criticisms, and assuming the version of ourselves that engages and interacts with others.
Neither version less true. Both are essential to who we are, and shape how we feel about ourselves and where we belong in the world.
I have found myself feeling immensely lighter and happier after social interactions. It’s a blissful escape, a much needed exhale, from the busy and often negative thoughts of my mind. I am much more relaxed, easy, and free spirited in the company of others. I surprise myself with my own sense of humour and zany observations.
It’s really only been since starting this isolation, and spending so much time on my own that I’ve noticed the contrast between these versions of myself.
On my own, even in the presence of my family, my thoughts weigh heavier. Prone to overthinking and overanalyzing, I am less in the moment, and more in my head.
And in this place, I start to judge and criticize myself, allowing anxieties and insecurities to fester. I am even quieter around my family, mousing around with an air of pessimism and edgy indecision. It’s misery meets boredom. It’s moping.
It’s only been recently after getting off some zoom calls that I’ve noticed the stark contrast in my thoughts before and after socializing. And I am coming to realize that what I am experiencing, despite living in a family of six, is loneliness.
The nature of my thoughts are not very different now than they are in normal everyday life. The difference is that when they would come up, they only lasted a few minutes, or however long it was before I was caught up in something else-and working in a room full of thirty lively five year old leaves little time to think, let alone ruminate.
I also know myself well enough to know how much being social benefits my mental health, so I always kept myself busy making plans with friends, whether it was brunch,hitting up a bar, or doing a yoga class.
Now, I do not have the luxury of any of those outlets, and the thoughts that used to be in passing can now fester for hours and even days.
I start to forget what my redeeming qualities are, the aspects of my personality that have allowed me to make so many amazing connections and relationships over the years.
And as this isolation drags on, I am realizing just how important it is to continue to nurture this side of my nature, even though it doesn’t feel “the same” doing it through a screen.
The truth is, this is the way of the world right now, and it’s better to embrace it, spotty wifi and all, than brace against it and wallow in loneliness.
Zoom and Facetime are the lesser evil in an unideal situation.
Up until recently, I wasn’t making much of an effort to to join the virtual hangouts or group chats going on with my friends. I didn’t like seeing myself as I was conversing (I still don’t). I didn’t like peering into a small screen for hours at a time. I didn’t like having to rearrange my camera every time I wanted to shift position. I just didn’t like how it didn’t feel the same. I figured I would just do my own thing and wait it out until we can hang in person in the next couple weeks.
And then a couple weeks passed…and then a month.
And now what is more uncomfortable than zoom chats is noticing how my negative thoughts become heavier even after a day or two without that kind of connection.
Motivating myself to go for a walk and get out of my mopey headspace.
So I’ve made a commitment to do some kind of socializing outside of my family every single day- even if I don’t really feel like it. It doesn’t always need to be a video or Facetime chat. Most days, its a long phone call with a friend as I go for a walk.
However, I don’t skip out on the group zoom hangouts when they are planned.
There is still a valuable sense of togetherness there, that while isn’t the same as sharing a couch or crowded round a table, still makes me feel a little more whole.
Seeing everyone’s face on a little square on my screen reminds me that I am not alone in feeling alone.
We are all in this together, doing what we can to stay connected and content, and getting a little insight into who we are on our own, in the process.
Taken on one of my daily walks. Sunshine also helps.
What are you doing to fight loneliness? How are you staying connected while staying safe at home?
-xoxo
Jordan