It's a Me Day

Me day, as defined by Urban Dictionary:
A day that's all about you... relax, eat, watch tv, and be lazy. Doing the fun things you want to do.
Refreshing to do after a prolonged work week and/or having little days off.
Jeff worked 50 hours this week... so on his day off he decided to have a Me day.

 I declared today a "me day".  This morning after all the duties had been done to get everybody out the door, I turned to my husband and said OUTLOUD that I was going to make today about myself.  Self care, they say, is essential.  I'll buy that for a dollar.  So, I put a little more creamer in my coffee, spent a little more time indulging in my iPad games and social media, and stayed in pajamas.  I run 3-4 miles about 4 times a week and I was going back and forth about going out today, but I was inspired by a recent conversation I had about AvaLanche.  AvaLanche, is my treasured Roller Derby identity.  Long since retired, but still in love with the sport, and truth be told you never really leave.  So I decided to skate my run today.  After all, it's a "me day" and skating is FUN!  Best. Decision. Ever.  Mind you, I was rusty and played it safe by sticking around my nicely paved neighborhood.  Definitely reminded me that skating is a lot of work and I loved it!  Oh yea, that's why I was in the best shape of my life in derby.  Anyways, super sweaty and tired muscles and I feel like me again. 

If you have been feeling like you're on a hamster wheel, I highly recommend a "me day".  Maybe even just a "me morning".  Try to remember things that make you tick that you don't get to do everyday and go do that.  It's good.  Mine isn't event halfway done and I already feel like I have shed the shroud of monotony.  So dramatic, I know.  Let the reminders lead you somewhere fun.  It's worth it.  Now, I'm gonna binge watch something on Netflix.

Be Kind, Rewind.

Last year, an incredible thing happened.  I was in line to pay for my order, piled high with school supplies and back to school necessities. A woman lined up behind me.  I must have clearly looked overwhelmed and nervous because she smiled and said quietly, "back to school is stressful, isn't it?"  I nodded and let out a huge sigh.

Here's the thing.  Finances were tight and when your kids ask for ALL THE THINGS and you have to say no to most...well, back to school sucks.  I wanted to get them the new things. The backpack that files your homework (If only, right?).  The shoes that "everyone has, Mom."  The top of the line pens and those cool doodads that make going back to school a little less dreadful. *Sigh* Well, I couldn't do that for them.  They got what they needed, which was fine, but not as much fun.  They smiled weakly and finally stopped asking.  *Sigh*  It's hard.  But, I know they are learning budgeting and financial responsibility watching their dad and I make important choices about how we spend the money we earn.  But, that's a entirely separate story.

So the incredible thing...this woman, who had so aptly identified me as fried and a little sad.  This woman, she says: "You know, I would like to pay for your order today.  I would like to share my gifts with you and help."  The boys' eyes flared open with wonder.  I just started crying.  I tried to say "no" because it was just too generous.  It was too much.  She was so gentle, but so very insistent.  I tried to get her name and she, with a huge smile, said, "just someone who wants to do something nice for someone else."

I left the store in disbelief.  Did that just happen?  Was this a joke and someone is pranking me?  The boys were busy chattering back and forth about this crazy thing that just happened and how Mom cried in the checkout line.  I vowed to return the favor and do the same for someone else.

Time passed, and I would think about it and then forget when I was in line.  Again and again, I would remember after it was too late.  Not today.  Today, I remembered.  And it was incredible.

I ran out to the store to grab a few things before I picked up my son from his magical second day of school.  I got in line and there was a elderly man looking for the right line to get into.  I watched him try to choose three different lines, all to be cut off and stared down by other, more "aggressive", shoppers.  I signaled for him to come over to my line.  "You're welcome to jump in front of me," I said.  He looked shocked.  I waved for him to come over and moved my cart to let him in.  *ZING*  I got butterflies and I REMEMBERED!  Yes!  This is the one I need to pay for his order and return the generous gesture of that kind woman!!  This is it!  I said, "you know, someone did a really wonderful thing for me and I would like to do the same for you.  Would you allow me to pay for your order today?"  He said, "it's more than I think you should spend on a stranger."  "No," I said.  "It's meant to be and it's good."  The cute thing was that it really was a modest order.  He told me that he was celebrating his wedding anniversary tonight and wanted to get her some special treats.  I was SO EXCITED to hear this and learned that his name was Chuck.  He and Marlene were celebrating their anniversary together and I was so happy to help make it special.

Repaying the kindness took some turnaround time, which I believe was part of the plan.  Today I got to feel the joy that the kind stranger felt, who was "just someone who wants to do something nice for someone else."  How often we forget that being kind, in any way, can have such a fabulous ripple effect.  From a simple smile, a genuine compliment, lending a helping hand, or paying for someone's order, it just might be the very moment that they most need your random act of kindness.

Be kind, Rewind.

Just keep swimming...

I used to see it as a chronic pathology.  I always felt like it was wrong, the way I moved on from things.  Like I should stay with it until it or I die.  Recently, I have come to see it differently...and I call it moving forward.

I don't hold still...literally and figuratively.  My dad told me once that I would start with reorganinzing my room; the drawers, the accessories, then the furniture.  He said once I ran out of things to organize, I would look at my life and start reorganizing that.  Start school, new career, new hobby...you get the idea.  I have always had a tendency to establish a goal, reach it, and then Move On...sometimes it meant leaving that thing behind.  For a long time I think that I was a little reluctant to actually reach my goals for fear that I would then need to move on from it.  I would reach my goal and then move on, and on some level I thought that was wrong.  It made people nervous and they would ask questions and ask me to think more about it before I decided.

For the longest time I have felt guilty about moving on.  I played competitive soccer, I moved on. I got my bachleor's degree, I moved on. I got my masters degree,  I moved on. I became a successful independent sales director, I moved on.  I played roller derby, I move on (*one of the more challenging moves, I must admit).  I got my RVT license, and I moved on...see a pattern?

So I would always feel bad because I think I really thought people expected me to stay in the same spot.  First point, no one is thinking that hard about me, right? (How vain can I really be?)  Second, why would it matter?  I'm continually moving on because I'm moving forward. I'm growing and I'm changing.  Maybe some people don't do that.  I realized, I don't have to feel bad about what I'm not currently doing, because I did it for that time and it serves it's purpose and it made me who I am right now.  And right now is good.  Really GOOD!

The best thing about each and every thing that I moved on from is that I did it with every ounce of me. I put 120% into every single thing I choose to pursue.  And that, right there, is all there is to consider.  It's not pathological, because there isn't a single thing wrong with the pursuit of growth.

So, as I continue to move on...I will continue to grow, explore, and become.  So much better than pathological, don't you think?

Adventures in Roller Derby: Episode 4, Finding happy without derby?

     "You have to stop looking for happiness in the same place you lost it."  I read this today and it struck a chord.  You know when you hear something and you shrug and nod in recognition of its validity...then you move on.  Well, those messages usually have a way or resurfacing or reappearing, until you get it.  The messages we ignore often tend to be the ones we SHOULD be hearing and learning from.

     As is the case today. I saw the above sentiment written this morning and I immediately was reminded of a woman over a year ago who told me, "roller derby made you happy, but now...having to retire...you have to find a new avenue to happy.  You can't find the same happy in the place you lost it."  Yea, yea...I nodded in acknowledgement, while really just ignoring the idea that I really had to move on from roller derby.  But now, the message is here again.  It has reappeared.  Apparently, I need to listen and explore the idea that I need to look for happy in something else.

      Now, for roller derby, that could mean many things.  Although I can't bout, I can officiate or continue to support the league as a coach, support staff, or fan.  I see skaters do that all the time.  There are countless ways to be involved in derby.  I mean, countless.  Mascot? Announcer?  Yup.  And I tried.  I really did.  I jumped into becoming a referee with all my guts and wanted it to work.  I got to skate and be involved in the sport I adore.  I participated in trainings and clinics and reffed a few bouts, too.  I was a baby ref and I threw myself in, but I wasn't happy. I was jealous of the skaters when I worked as a ref or NSO (non-skating official), and reffing was much more challenging than you can imagine. (See my post titled: Adventures in Roller Derby: Episode 3, Officially Official) I wasn't ready for it, and as much as I wanted it to work, I wasn't ready. I would think about derby all the time and ultimately end up shying away from getting involved again, because it made me so sad.  I thought I would try a drop in skate and feel the thrill of skating and support the league as a fan.  I never made it.  I thought perhaps I would make a great announcer and reached out to my favorite announcers for resources and insight.  I haven't held a mic.  I asked about helping the coaching staff.  I never followed through.  And I still haven't attended a bout.  I hid a lot of derby feeds on my Facebook page.  I avoided wearing derby t-shirts, so I wouldn't have to explain that I wasn't skating anymore.  Why?  What am doing?  How can I have done a complete 180 and turn my back on this sport that changed my life?

     First, you must know that derby is all consuming.There is a joke that derby is a "jealous lover".  Derby will always want more of you and you will never have free time.  It consumes you.  It's all derby all the time.  And IT. IS. TRUE.  Derby becomes a part of every fiber of your being.  The joys and trials are addicting and magical.  Like, Unicorns and rainbows, magic.  For real.  When derby wasn't there...I had more time for my family and other passions and I think I liked that.  Second, the reality of retiring from roller derby ended up being more emotionally complicated and painful than the physical side effects the sport bestowed.  It hurt to see my comrades skate and play.  It hurt to answer questions about my beloved sport.  It hurt to see Rollercon 2014 come and go without me.  It hurt to let my WFTDA insurance lapse.  The more time passed the more final my dissociation from derby became a reality.  I stopped making excuses to people for why I hadn't showed up to skate or sign up to ref.  Actually, I just avoided most people that knew derby and I had once been having a decadent affair.  I love that sport.  But, I couldn't pretend that I was still there...like a creepy ghost.  I missed my derby sisters more than you can imagine, but it hurt more to see them. *sigh* So, there it is.  The real truth about it.  I can't be around derby because I'm still mourning the loss.  AvaLanche #00.  I miss that gal.  She was funny and strong.  I miss derby.  I miss the rush of conquering something on skates and growing.  With all the good and bad, derby changed me forever.  I have read countless blogs on skaters retiring, and although they offer true insight into how hard it is to retire, I haven't found one that offers much consolation because few discuss the fact that sometimes you don't stay involved and derby becomes a part of your PAST.  Will I ever go back?  Can I make the re-commitment to being consumed? Then, I am reminded that I have serious issues with my knees, even if they have improved with my "medical retirement" hiatus...they are still the same messed up knees.  I vacillate weekly.  It's maddening and I wish sometimes I would just shit or get off the pot.  In fact, last Saturday my son had a soccer game and the field happened to be right next door to where my league practices AND it happened to the same time they practice.  Should I go?  Pick the scab, so to speak?  You all know me.  Of course I went!  I watched for a few minutes while the beautiful ladies ran a pace line with a hitting drill.  My heart raced and sank at the same time.  I want that again...but how?  Yup.  Here we go again, the same back and forth.  

     All that, and you are probably wondering when this is going to come back around to the concept of looking for happiness in different places.  From the sounds of it, I am still trying to find happiness in derby but struggle to make sense of it or reach success...even over a YEAR later.  What's the definition of insanity?  Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.  Clearly, I need to try something new.  I laugh a little, because the message was there the whole time...I just refused to listen, and in doing so I took a whole lot longer to make progress.  We'll see if I learn something new this time.  Here's to looking in different directions for happiness...for now...

CHEERS!

Slow and steady

Having blown through the first year of my forties, I have realized that this year...well, it sucked.  No, not all of it and I'm not a pessimist.  I simply feel that this year proved more challenging for me than I either expected, or was willing to admit.  I had written about change and how a huge wave of several big changes and shifts hit me at once this year.  I even said I was going to pull up my big girl panties and deal with it.  Um, I did not.  I gained weight.  I was cranky.  I didn't play with my friends.  I cried often.  I raged even more often.  Situation after situation was continually challenging me.  "Can I catch a break", I would joke.  "What am I not learning that this is happening again?", I would ask.  "Never a dull moment" I would say dryly with a sarcastic smile, when someone asked me how I was doing.  I actually got to the point where EVERYTHING was too much.  I have to do MORE dishes?  What do you mean you don't have underwear?  Do you guys really need another meal? I kinda just waded through the days trying to get to that quiet moment in the evening after the boys are asleep where I could say, "it's too late to get that done" and sit down on the couch and finally talk to my husband.  Mind you, it's 11:00 pm at that point and in another 6 hours it will start all over.  Like that movie Groundhog Day.  It may seem like I am writing this as if it is all a past tense adventure. 

It's not.

I am exhausted from the lessons of my fortieth year.  **I know, I know, I am not nearly done with life lessons and I'm merely a babe in the art of growing up.  This is a snapshot in my life long journey, so calm down if you think I'm whining.  I'm storytelling, it's different.** Okay, where was I?  Ah, yes.  Feeling crazy.  I actually said out loud at some point, "I think I'm going crazy."  Between kids and family and finances and jobs and life...well, I wasn't being super effective at much of it.  I was overwhelmed.  Ya feel me?  Yea, I know you do.  Recently, (and by recently I mean a few weeks) I decided I needed to make some changes.  Somehow I have to make myself the priority, and that is absolutely foreign to me.  Wrong, even. In order to be the priority I need to be able to see better.  So, It's time to make room.  "Clear my plate", so to speak.  Sounds like a good plan, right? How many of you out there have the "I just can't say no" syndrome?  It can also be translated to the "people pleasing disease".   Sound familiar?  How do I clear my plate when I can't say no...even to something that I KNOW is going to be problematic?  Simple (not really), but I am using the often said idea that when you turn forty, you just don't care as much what other people think. I must have heard that said a zillion times coming up to my fortieth birthday, and it is now serving as my reminder to do something different.  I'm going with the theory of "say it until it's true," or "fake it 'til you make it" since the idea of not caring so much is a long running issue for me.  Not only because I shouldn't care so much about what other people think...but also because other people are not worried about what I think.  I remember being told, "most people are not thinking about you as much as they are thinking about themselves!" Ha!  Too true.

 

Only a month or so away from opening another annual chapter in my life, I have had a few situations come up that I actually did the opposite of what I would normally do.  I said no.  I didn't worry (well, at least not enough to stop me) about what other people would think.  I didn't try to make people who don't care about me feel better.  I have limited how much time I spend on social media.  I made no apologies where they weren't merited.  I was honest when I spoke.  This post and my last post (Pressure Cooker) have a similar theme and clearly it is a focus of mine.  It hasn't been easy and I am by no means done, but today I was motivated to write about it because today I woke up and didn't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I have made progress!  (Doing a little happy dance).  I feel like I can breathe.  I feel like there is space in my head to slow down, pause, and look around instead of being too busy, frustrated, or panicked with texts and emails and craziness.  You hear and see motivational sayings that say all progress, however slow, is still progress! The other part of the equation is that I need to slow down enough to be able to recognize it.  Clearing my plate of the things that weren't essential to my role or were toxic to my well being has been one of the most empowering moves I've made in a long long time.  And although the feelings of progress and success may come and go, I know the rewards of making small changes and allowing myself to be the priority every once in a while.  Slow and steady.  Slow and steady.

Pressure Cooker...

I have noticed lately that I used to break a lot less stuff when I played roller derby.  Honestly, retiring from derby has been more complicated and depressing than I ever expected.  I want it so bad, and I spend hours trying to figure out how to go back...even if my surgeon and my knees say "NO."  To say it has sucked, or that it still sucks at this moment, would be an understatement.  But, I digress.  Frustration is a powerful little bugger.  It's sneaky and you don't always realize it's building up.  You get more sensitive to sounds.  You get impatient and cranky.  You slam doors.  You grit your teeth.  And finally, when it reaches a breaking point...YOU SNAP!! Having retired from derby, other than being critically depressed over it, I also realize how derby was, for me, the most effective method of mediating stress and frustration.  A physical outlet to decompress.  Now, because my knees have dictated I move on...I am noticing that I am less patient, more irritable, and I break more stuff...accidentally.  And by accidentally, I mean, I don't recognize the build up and then...BAM! That poor mug handle didn't stand a chance.  Or the unsuspecting remote, may it rest in peace, it was just a tool that was sacrificed to the brewing wrath of frustration.  I finally confessed to destroying it, and my gracious husband hasn't given me too much grief about needing to change the channel or adjust the volume by actually GETTING UP!  He's a gracious and amazing man.  It's clear, I need a new outlet.  STAT.  Before any more remotes or mug handles lose their lives.  I'm working on it.  Money and time are pains in my ass.  Don't worry I'll find a solution, but I suppose me actually DOING it is the rest of the recipe.  Motivation, purpose, and weight loss are on the agenda and each merit their own posts.  Right now, I focus on WHY I am sooooo frustrated and stressed.  Manage the disease, not the symptoms, right?

Step one?  Face the reality.  The truth is...the other piece of the puzzle would be to own the fact that I actually create a lot of my own stress.  Yes, I CREATE MY OWN ANXIETY. It stings a little, since I would like to think I am not at the core of my own problems, but it's the reality.  A recent read (recommended by my precious husband) was a blog titled, "The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck" (http://markmanson.net/not-giving-a-fuck).  It reminded me that I create a crap ton of stress and anxiety by caring way too much about things that don't merit the real estate in my head.  Boom!  Of course there are plenty of other legitimate stressors and frustrations, but I am actually in the position to diminish my stress, and thereby calm down the pressure cooker, by learning not to worry about things that don't deserve the time.  Can I get an Amen?   What if I just decided to let some of the crap go?  Not get all worked up over someone scoffing at me because I made a mistake, or watching somene getting away with murder in the carline at pick-up.  They will bear the burden of their own decisions...or maybe, they won't.  Why do I have to invest emotional resources into something that isn't worth it?  How about I decide not to worry so much about what other people think I should be or do or say?  Or worry less about the other people who don't even KNOW me?  Be me without apology?  Yes, this seems like something worth trying. This is the answer to (part of) my problems.  For those of you who have learned or mastered the art of letting things go, do not hesitate to offer your expertise.  I'll keep you posted on how it goes...

Change, change, and more change...

Change has a way of making me nostalgic for the past because I find comfort in what I already know.  The unknown is freaky and unpredictable.  Sure, I believe in the benefits of change and learning from my failures and moving forward in the unknown.  I also have faith.  But, being merely human...I just sometimes forget these things, and then change seems to have a way of sucker-punching me in the gut.  And change has a way of happening in the "when it rains, it pours" kind of fashion.  Good or bad, expected or unexpected, natural or unnatural...it's still change.  Maybe it will come as a surprise to you, but I don't really like change.  Adjusting to new things, for me, takes time and lots of processing to get to the other side of it.  It seems to be a season of change for several people in my life. And, the word on the street is that things are always going to keep changing.

Change is a chameleon.  It takes on so many forms.  Some exciting and natural, like my return to work, or my son moving on to middle school.  Some monumental, like turning 40 and watching incredible and deserved people retire.  But, the ones I struggle with the most have a theme.  For me, it all boils down to loss, mourning those losses, and trying figure out the new path to move forward.  Loss creates voids and those voids force me to change in order to heal.  And, as I have said...change is really hard for me.   So, there you have it.  Profound?  No.  Just trying to navigate the obvious...even though "the obvious" plays games and dances around you like a super ninja laughing at you because you can't see it coming.  I figure stating the obvious has it's time and place...because sometimes, it is needed.  So, I'll pull up my big girl pants and continue to push forward.  One change at a time...