tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66038834263063769212024-02-29T10:45:49.542-05:00Lilies and ElephantsLilies and Elephants is a collection of my thoughts, musings, ideas, personal impressions, and stories. I think out loud and encourage others to express themselves. I write about life and my personal journey living with a mood cycling disorder. I'm on a mission to motivate openness about and acceptance of mental health and chronic illness, to chip away at the stigma, offer support, raise awareness, and perhaps provide some inspiration along the way. Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.comBlogger462125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-19880362624139293052024-02-29T10:45:00.000-05:002024-02-29T10:45:05.297-05:00Nostalgia and Moving Forward in a New Way<p> Lately I've been have been really missing my days of running Chimera Travel full time. In part, it's the actual travel aspect. I haven't traveled overseas since 2018 (!), first because of pandemic, then because of IVF, and I miss it. My "on this day in.. " reminders on various social media show that this time seven years ago I was in Kenya doing things like a seeing baby orphan elephant feeding at the <a href="https://www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org/">Sheldrick Wildlife Trust</a> and taking a sunrise hot air balloon ride over the Masai Mara. Nine years ago today, I was in Marrakech and surrounding area, enjoying the most delicious Moroccan food with a backdrop of the Atlas Mountains. I am sure that seeing photos from these trips day after day for a couple of weeks isn't helping my nostalgia. But it's not just the travel. It's running a business itself. It's having autonomy over everything from my schedule to the marketing and promotion of the company to the target audience to the core values of the company. It's getting to go to conferences and workshops to immerse myself in topic-specific education, both as an attendee and as a presenter. It's sitting on boards of directors where I met others in these industries, some of who became lifelong friends. And like the "on this day" photos, this is also being spurred on by reminders of those experiences. I've been spending a lot of time, either in person or conversation, with people who have this (extremely well-earned!) autonomy - my parents are now both retired and two of my four siblings run their own businesses. I also recently had coffee with a friend that I know from my entrepreneur/coworking days who also works in travel. We talked all about the travel industry, building our businesses, going to conferences and events, traveling to get immersion in different locations. During that conversation, I felt an energy, that type of hum you get when something is lighting you up, that I have't felt in a while. </p><p>And yet, I don't really want to go back to running my travel business full time anymore. Maybe if, in a perfect world, I knew I'd have plenty of clients and could make enough money to help pay the bills and support my household, and I knew I could grow the company to be exactly what I want, that might be the case. But I spent years trying to do that and it didn't exactly work out as I hoped. And also, I'm going through a sixth round of IVF. The hope, the whole point of that, is that this time next year we will have an infant. And that doesn't exactly mesh with traveling around the globe for conferences, African Safaris with hot air balloon rides. Which is completely ok because this is the stage of life I'm at - I would gladly put all that travel on hiatus to finally have our child. </p><p>Still, that low level hum of "something" has persisted in the background. I've sat with it, contemplated it, journaled through it, used the tools and skillsets I'm developing in the <a href="https://tobemagnetic.com/">To Be Magnetic</a> work I'm doing, and what I'm coming to realize that "something" is exactly what it is at this moment. It's the feeling that I'm on the precipice of a change, of life moving forward somehow, but without any details. It could be my IVF cycle - maybe this will finally be the one that work. It could be something related to work or travel or yoga. It could be a new connection or community activity. Or it could be something internal. I've been doing a lot of work, with all of the methods I've mentioned above, plus meditation, yoga, therapy. I've reconnected with and am exploring areas of life that interest and intrigue me, working to get back to my truly authentic self. Maybe the something is simply that (which is not at all simple really). Maybe it's the the movement back towards a me that feels authentic at this age and in this stage of my life. </p><p>Interestingly, I find that I'm ok with not fully knowing yet. Of course it feels great to have an "ah-ha" moment, where you realize exactly what your next step, plan, goal, action, etc is. What I've realized through the work I've been doing, though, is that I've constantly been on the chase - always looking for what's next. And partly, that's my innate personality. I'm not someone who's great with status quo, I get bored easily, and I literally was a professional planner for years, so I enjoy having some semblance of a known path forward. But that has also at times made me feel almost frantic in the pursuit. There's something freeing about releasing a bit of that control, and sitting back to see what happens. To be clear, this is not a "you're exactly where you're supposed to be" type of message. I don't think the universe/creator/source/God was sitting there saying "let's put her through the heartbreak of five failed rounds of IVF and then she'll be exactly where she needs to be." Sometimes, shitty things just happen, and there's nothing more you could have done to make them not happen. It is also not a "the universe will just make it happen, you don't have to do anything." Using the the IVF example again, I'm not going to have an immaculate conception. So far, the most in depth scientific/medical protocols have not managed to help me get pregnant. I'm certainly not going to just sit back and think "the universe will take care of this". I'm going to do every single thing my fertility care team tells me to do - all of the medications and shots and appointments and ultrasounds and everything else I can to give us the best chance. What I mean is that I'm not feeling the urge to frantically chase "the next thing". I can feel that something is coming. I am going to do the work in the areas of life that I'm committed to, towards the goals that I'm committed to. I'm also going to continue to do the internal work and to stay committed to getting back to my most authentic self. But I'm not going to force it. I've spent so much time in my life desperately trying to make something happen, almost for the sake of making something happen. I often felt like a dog chasing its tail, constantly pursing things that clearly weren't showing signs of happening - not because I needed to try harder, but because maybe all along they just weren't going to happen in the way I was trying to make them happen. And I think if I'd really stopped to listen to my intuition, to my intrinsic knowledge, my authentic self, I would have been able to see that. Or perhaps, if I'd approached it from this space, things would have turned out differently. Either way, the frantic chase approach was not one that worked in the end. </p><p>This time, I am allowing myself that space, that grace to listen to myself and the universe. I've been consistently more drawn to gentleness, slowing down, inward focus, finding quiet strength. There's a sense of ease in it - not in that it's easy, but in that it's not forced - and that feels beautiful, and like exactly what I need right now. </p><p>So I'll look at the travel photos with fondness and nostalgia. I'll surely eventually plan some new travel (like the trip we took to Maine last year that was a balm for my soul). I'll remember the he excitement of running my business, and I'll continue to help the travel clients I have, and to teach the yoga classes that I enjoy teaching. I'll use the reminder of autonomy, how freeing it felt, when I'm about to commit to something because I feel like I *should*,, or from a place of hustle/trying to hard, instead of because it feels intrinsically right, to determine if it's worth relinquishing more of that autonomy. I'll use all of these as guides. And then I'll step back and enjoy the feeling of "something", and I'll allow my curiosity to delight in wondering what it might be, without the pressure to make it be one in particular, or to make it be now. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-64429179805193110092024-02-21T08:30:00.000-05:002024-02-21T08:30:01.887-05:00A New Diagnosis & Old GhostsThis morning, I felt like writing a post on here. If I'm honest (which I always try to be), this is the first time in a long time that I've really had the desire to blog. I've written my end of the year posts each year because it feels right to document the previous 12 months, and I imagine that someday I'll look back and be glad I did so. But it's been ages since I truly felt inspired to post here. This morning, though, I did. And it feels really good to have that spark again, even if it doesn't last much past today. For years, I had a constant flow of inspiration. But then I started working a full time job and gave up running Chimera full time, had less time for advocacy, and just overall didn't feel super inspired. Also, ironically, I've felt more mentally stable in the past few years than I have in all of my adult life, and since my primary focus on this blog was my life with mental illness, my feeling more mentally healthy has led to less blogging. But I'll absolutely take it, hands down. <div><br /></div><div>Though I have been having a lot of "run away train brain" that feels like one long hypomanic cycle lately (thanks, IVF meds!), this morning's inspiration was due not to my cyclothymia or anxiety, but to another condition. Back in December, I started getting a huge uptick in migraine attacks. I used to have one about once a quarter, and I began having one or more a week. They lasted several days at a stretch, so I was rarely more than a few days without an attack. It was terrible. For anyone living with chronic migraine that experiences this on a regular basis, you are incredible for dealing with it, truly. What I noticed around the same time was that I was getting an increase in upper GI symptoms alongside my migraine attacks. At first, I just thought it was a change to migraine prodrome. I've always gotten a bit of a sour stomach before the major symptoms of a migraine attack hit, but this past year, I began instead getting indigestion. It felt like someone was inside of my stomach/diaphragm area forcing air up into my esophagus. I felt like I constantly had to burp, which was lovely. In December, with the increase in migraine attacks, it became more pronounced. Then I had a horrific migraine attack over New Year's Eve and Day. </div><div><br /></div><div><i>Pause: if you don't want to hear about GI symptoms/vomiting now is the time to stop reading... </i></div><div><br /></div><div>I started feeling the indigestion/air in my upper GI middle of the night Saturday night (the night going into New Year's Eve day). It felt like I needed to throw it up, and I did a tiny bit, but it continued to feel like I had food and air stuck in my stomach area. It continued through the next morning when the full fledged migraine attack symptoms hit - extreme dizziness and disorientation, head pain, nausea. I was completely horizontal. I couldn't eat anything or even keep down water, so it made no sense to me that I was still feeling like I had food stuck in my stomach. Finally, at around 2PM, when I hadn't eaten for almost 20 hours, I was able to vomit up all of the food from dinner the night before, which I'd had around 5PM. I am not a GI expert, but I know that my stomach should have digested the previous night's dinner by 2PM the following day, and that in itself was a bit concerning, but I figured it was all part of the migraine attack. The migraine symptoms hung on until late the following day, but at least I didn't feel like I had food and air stuck in my stomach and esophagus, and I was no longer vomiting up water. </div><div><br /></div><div>But, the upper GI issue never completely went away. The whole first week of January I could barely eat. I'd feel tons of pressure and air at my diaphragm/esophagus area. I assumed I was just taking an extra long time to recover from the migraine attack. It continued to the following week. I had already gotten an appointment with a neurologist - or rather scheduled one, as I couldn't get one until March so I still haven't been. After two weeks of barely being able to eat, and no other migraine symptoms, I decided I also needed to see a GI doctor. Despite having IBS, it's been a while since I've been to one, other than an obligatory pre-colonoscopy consult a few years back. I was actually able to get into someone a couple of weeks ago, and I got diagnosed with gastroparesis. Unfortunately, all of the tests they can do to figure out exactly what's specifically going on - i.e. what might be causing it, etc - they cannot do right now. They all have some sort of radiation or require anesthesia which I obviously can't have during this cycle of IVF. So I got an answer, which I'm grateful for, but still left with a lot of questions. </div><div><br /></div><div>The past few weeks I've been trying to be mindful of the GI doctor's dietary suggestions - be careful of fats, watch acids, increase protein, eat small meals more frequently. There are also a ton of dietary resources out there gastroporesis, and all of them seem awful - not the quality of the resources, but the dietary modifications they suggest (essentially they say I can eat white carbs, which is exactly the opposite of my IBS dietary needs, and mashed up foods). Add in being a vegetarian, having to take into account dietary suggestions for IC and IBS as well, and going through IVF, in which I'm trying to makes sure I get all the proper nutrients and vitamins and everything else, it's been tricky. So I've been trying to figure out the best lived experience balance. I do not mash up everything baby food style. I do try to limit fats and watch acids. I try foods out that I know are healthy and important for me as a vegetarian trying to get pregnant. I see how they feel and if they feel ok, I continue with them. If they don't, I try to find substitutes that offer similar benefits. I eat smaller portions and try to eat more frequently, although I often feel so bad after eating even just a small portion that I can't force myself to eat until the next meal. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the past month and a half, I've lost quite a bit of weight. I won't lie, at first I wasn't bothered by it, because, before the diagnosis, I thought things would just go back to normal once I got back to usual eating patterns. But the weight loss has continued. It's not felt super alarming, but I have noticed clothes fitting looser and looser. Still, it didn't feel like anything drastic, and I figured it would likely level out at some point, especially as I've been trying to push myself to eat a little bit more when I can. But this morning, I looked in the mirror, and I was alarmed. I had been doing a light workout, so had on a top in which I could see my shoulders and arms (something I don't see in the mirror a lot in winter). I felt like I looked borderline sick. Not my face so much, but my arms and shoulders were skinny and almost angular in a way that they rarely are. I'm an 'athletic build" by nature. But I had a sudden flashback to my early 20s, photos of me skin and bones, when I suffered from both severe IBS bouts and disordered eating. Back then I lost about 20 lbs between the two, and I'd only been a little over 100 lbs to begin with. I remember years later seeing pictures from that time and thinking "how could I have not realized how sick I was?" Of course, that is the nature of disordered eating, and why it's disordered - because the brain doesn't even necessarily see the weight loss, and even it does, it doesn't recognize it for what it is. </div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, this time I'm in a significantly better place mentally. I am no where near as thin as I was back then - in fact, I'm probably close to the weight I was naturally before the disordered eating and IBS bouts started. But seeing my shoulders and arms look skinny, less muscular, more angular my brain sent off warning flags that I need to pay more attention to the weight loss. I'm grateful that this time around, nearly 20 years later, the semi-rapid weight loss is something I recognize as concerning, and not something to be celebrated. I know that it's something I need to keep an eye on, and that I have to work hard to make sure that even if I can't eat a lot, I'm getting in the proper vitamins and nutrients, proteins and healthy fats, to the degree that I can without the fats causing extreme discomfort. It will always be a tricky balance for me to keep an eye on my actual weight (as in numbers on a scale), because I know that doing so was a major obsession during the disordered eating years. Since being in ED recovery, I've rarely weighed myself unless obligated to do so at a doctor's office or when required to do so after egg retrieval to make sure I wasn't experiencing OHSS. But I may need to find a temporary truce with the scale, to monitor my weight loss and make sure it's not too rapid or intense. (Yes, I can see how clothes are fitting, but I've been into more comfortable, slightly looser clothes lately, and that makes it tougher to gauge). I'm extremely grateful to be in a place where I feel I can do this. </div><div><br /></div><div>This gastroparesis diagnosis has been a difficult one. Moreso than most of my other diagnoses. It came at an extremely unfortunate time (though really there's no good time), with my having recently started a new round of IVF. It's bringing up old ghosts from a time in my life in which I was the least mentally healthy version of me, and even though I'm seeing them from the other side, recognizing the ghosts for what they are, remembering the place I was once in can be extremely emotional. I'm grateful for the knowledge and perspective I have now, for the many tools I have in my mental health toolbox, for the support of those closest to me, and for all of the resources I have through my advocacy efforts, to learn and understand this diagnosis better. </div><div><br /></div><div>And while I'm not generally a "look at the silver lining" type of person, because I think it tends to diminish someone's difficult experience, this morning's glance in the mirror and subsequent shock inspired me not only to double down on my efforts to stay as healthy as I can with this condition, but to blog about it as well. And the blogging itself - that's a part of my history that actually feels good to be revisiting, even if the cause for doing so, not so much. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-35462117434293318062023-12-26T11:38:00.002-05:002023-12-26T11:38:09.452-05:002024 Year in Review <p> <span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Welcome to my once-a-year blog! Ha! I’ve not had the opportunity, or to be honest the inspiration, to blog much lately. I’ve been in an in-between phase with, well, life basically, and as someone who is really driven to write by passion and what I’m feeling immersed in at the moment, the in-between stage proves to be a not super effective muse. Additionally, until about September, I was partaking in weekly Storyworth responses, which scratched the writing itch, so to speak (if you’re not familiar with Storyworth, it’s pretty cool - check it out </span><a href="https://storyworth.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">here</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">. I promise this isn’t sponsored). Still, this annual tradition of a “Year in Review” post is something I enjoy. Not only is it a nice way to wrap up the year, it’s good for perspective. In some instances, it helps to remind me of the positive things that happened throughout the year, which can be important if I’m struggling in other areas. In other cases, it helps me to give myself a little space, ease, and grace, reminding me of some of the really challenging and difficult moments I’ve gotten through, which can help me better process what I’m feeling and be a little less hard on myself if everything hasn’t gone exactly as I’d hoped. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-48f87ec9-7fff-a547-a93f-a3bef3a1df61"><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The below highlights are in no real particular order, other than trying to start on a positive note. Also, I think it’s important to mention here that there were so many little moments that might not make the blog post, but are everything in the day to day - laughs with friends, support from loved ones, family traditions, Brian and I cracking ourselves up with the life stories we make up about Grace as if she were a human, those types of things. The big moments are important for what they are of course, but without these seemingly little moments in everyday life, the time in between the big moments - which is most of life, really - would be way less meaningful and enjoyable. </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">House Guests</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In February 2023, our good friend from Colorado came out to the area and stayed with us for about nine days. He was our first overnight house guest in this house, despite us having lived here for almost two years at that point, and it was great to have him here. It was a super low key visit, which is exactly what we all wanted. We ordered take out, frequented our favorite local coffee shop, went to get Mr. Softee (an ice cream stand) in our pajamas, which everyone knows is really the only appropriate way to go to Mr. Softee. He and my husband took some day trips (I had to </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">work), and really, just got to spend quality time together. There was a ton of great convo, silly antics, and laughs, which is exactly what spending time with those close to you should be. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The weekend before Fourth of July, couple friends of ours who had been living in Massachusetts for the past couple of years (but originally from this general area) came to visit. We’re all big into games, so we played some board games, went to the game store, went to a local arcade. We had a pool day at our house, nice meals out and good take out, and just got to enjoy catching up in person and all spending time together. It was so nice to get to spend the holiday weekend in a fun and relaxed way with close friends. No pressure for big parties or gatherings, late nights out, anything extravagant, which is exactly my kind of holiday weekend! </span></p><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Vacation/Travel</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">After three plus years of staying mostly local, doing staycation and the occasional weekend road trip, we took TWO vacations this year! The first was our trip to Maine in May. It’s the only state on the East Coast that I hadn't been to, and also one of the US States I’ve most wanted to visit. It exceeded expectations. We rented a VRBO on the Schoodic peninsula, and it was perfect. Completely not touristy, surrounded by nature, quintessential Maine. We ventured around the Schoodic, into Acadia National Park, walked around Bar Harbor, found our favorite local spots to eat in the small nearby town of Winter Harbor, explored the cute town of Ellsworth where we had Sri Lankan food for the first time, visited some historical sites, went out into Bangor for an afternoon. On the way up, we also got to see some friends from Maine that we haven’t seen since pre-pandemic, which was so much fun. Everything about the trip was fantastic. It gave Brian and I time to really connect without the day to day obligations of work and home and groceries and chores and all of those normal life things that tend to fill up the time without you even realizing it. For me, my pull to nature increased tenfold. I was drawn toward the idea of rewilding,and it’s had some lasting impact on my life - I’ve been diving into connecting with the elements, the lunar cycle, seasonality, and more, and I love exploring this. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRakRrMz-TQ1vd_bkfU2O8zyQ-nVkJoY7UL7fuG8nhxdDAJhS3mwJqyRbqu1TiRmZvhMpmwWB1a6jfOZsRQN_LEDGv11TNRHkTtTakMTgOAmeKIh5nK_LfYE_GrJGPFyBNouU6hRicWf6ELoXqQyv4hTL19gJWRpc6F0PtxvL79BV1Q9Oa5dMsr51j7WQ/s4032/Schoodic%20Pensinsula.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRakRrMz-TQ1vd_bkfU2O8zyQ-nVkJoY7UL7fuG8nhxdDAJhS3mwJqyRbqu1TiRmZvhMpmwWB1a6jfOZsRQN_LEDGv11TNRHkTtTakMTgOAmeKIh5nK_LfYE_GrJGPFyBNouU6hRicWf6ELoXqQyv4hTL19gJWRpc6F0PtxvL79BV1Q9Oa5dMsr51j7WQ/s320/Schoodic%20Pensinsula.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The second trip was to Denver for the wedding of my friend Bri (also a Brian but that’s confusing and I’ve always called him Bri), who is one of my absolute best friends and favorite people on this planet. We also got to visit the first house guest friend mentioned above and his family, who live in the Denver area as well. The flight to Denver was our first flight since 2018!! In 2019 our vacation was a road trip to New England, and then 2020 happened and we know how that played out. We hadn’t felt comfortable being on a plane until quite recently. Plus with all of the IVF stuff over the past few years (more on that to come) we really couldn’t be a plane ride away from the fertility clinic. But we got our Covid boosters and I masked up and we went to Denver and it was amazing! I forgot how much I loved the mountains and the area in general. It was wonderful to see everyone, and my happiness level at being able to share in my friend’s wedding is something that still nearly chokes me up as I write this. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj750HAn_WxEbNhs-faWLcbYQ-vWuEUuDO9c-dGQXTc7sI3rI_Btf8dQvFh2Dtj1vNnv6JqqF4SJT8UOY9kYgNZZWGCjN9xtY_igBkqYDwQ1M53ri2Z3XyovZuLYe8xWf47xRR02CkMWgYLQFj-qW_egY-pnQALkX9cZ-nDc_7mu1NGEBw3OVmcRiKkWs8/s2048/Fancy%20CO%20wedding.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj750HAn_WxEbNhs-faWLcbYQ-vWuEUuDO9c-dGQXTc7sI3rI_Btf8dQvFh2Dtj1vNnv6JqqF4SJT8UOY9kYgNZZWGCjN9xtY_igBkqYDwQ1M53ri2Z3XyovZuLYe8xWf47xRR02CkMWgYLQFj-qW_egY-pnQALkX9cZ-nDc_7mu1NGEBw3OVmcRiKkWs8/s320/Fancy%20CO%20wedding.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><p></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Health Stuff</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Super descriptive writer-y subheading, right? Some of this isn’t mine to share, and so I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say there were multiple scares we were not expecting in both my nuclear and extended family, and they were some doozies. Everyone is on the mend-ish, but whew. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">As for me, I learned that I have trauma-induced arthritis in my left big toe (high five for my 3rd type of arthritis!). I've been having pretty severe pain in my toe, to the point that I can’t really bend it since, February of 2022 (yep, not this year, last year!). I’ve gone to numerous doctors during that time, and it wasn’t until I went to a reconstructive orthopedist in November that anyone confirmed that I had, at some point, broken my big toe. It’s healed now, but in the meantime, because of how it healed, I developed what he called trauma-triggered arthritis in the knuckle of my big toe. He did another cortisone injection (the podiatrist did one last year that didn’t work at all). If the injection doesn’t work, he said the only other option would be to fuse the knuckle of my big toe. This is obviously not ideal, and I’m going to do everything I can to prevent this, which I’ll admit probably means just dealing with the pain until it gets bad enough that I can’t. I go back on January 4th for a check up. I was supposed to go back last week, but got hit with a terrible migraine attack. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Which brings me to, migraine attacks. I’ve had migraine for years - since I was a teenager. The frequency ebbs and flows, but it’s rarely more than once a month. About 12 years ago, I had episodes where the left side of my face and my left arm would get weak and heavy with the flare. I got increased dizziness and disorientation, even moreso than usual. I went to numerous doctors including a neurologist. I had a brain MRI, bloodwork, EKG, the works. They found nothing. It’s thought that I likely experience a “mild” form of hemiplegic migraine. I say mild because hemiplegic migraine can mimic a stroke, with symptoms like slurred speech, and mine don’t get quite that intense, at least so far. But it’s far from mild feeling when it’s occurring. I seem to get them in clusters of time, and haven’t had one for years. This month though, my migraine attack frequency has increased, among them an attack that feels like the hemiplegic type. In addition the presentation of the attacks has changed a bit. I’m getting increasing GI symptoms during and after the attack, and while previously I’d usually have some indicator a few days before, like a mild “sour stomach", they’ve been hitting out of almost nowhere. I’ll have what feels like a mild sinus headache, and then bam, searing pain that moves to just over my left eye and radiates down my face, disorientation and dizziness, weakness, nausea, vision trouble, light sensitivities (which I also previously never had) all within a matter of minutes, followed by GI pain and cramping. I have an appointment with my GP on Friday so we’ll see how that goes - it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a headache specialist and I have an HMO so need a referral anyway, which means GP is the first stop. I’ll likely not get answers on Friday, but fingers crossed I can get guidance on next steps. </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">An End of a Yoga Era</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Ok, so maybe four years doesn’t constitute an era, but it kind of feels like it. Shortly after I got my Yoga Teacher certification, I began a yoga benefit class. It was sponsored by my mom’s firm, and it benefited the organization </span><a href="https://www.kidschancenj.org/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Kids’ Chance of NJ</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> (great organization, check them out!). It was a weekly all-levels flow class held at my mom’s firm on Tuesday evenings. When the pandemic hit, we moved it virtual, and it’s been virtual ever since. At the end of this month, my mom is retiring (yay, congrats!!) and as she’s been essentially our liaison with both the firm and the organization, the partnership with Kids’ Chance will come to an end. Both the firm and the organization have been amazing partners. The class was my first regular yoga class after graduating YTT, and I’m so grateful and honored that they trusted me to begin this benefit yoga program, and for everyone that participated and worked to make it happen/sustain it. Over the past four plus years, we’ve been able to practice yoga together (or virtually together) and raise money for a wonderful organization, and that means so much to me. I held my last official Yoga to Benefit Kids’ Chance earlier in the month. I’ll still continue to teach my Tuesday yoga class, but it’s in an in-between stage right now. I’m looking into other potential local organizations to partner with, and also just taking the opportunity to step back and see what the best path might be for this class moving forward. Shameless self plug, I’ll have my January schedule up soon, and you can sign up for classes </span><a href="https://maya-augelli.com/classes-offerings-events" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">here</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> (they’re still all virtual). </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAEbXhDTU32kaRabay68kmMmmbcCl0Pz42Q_kLzj3GW7up5DNUXL36E28FVN7ZjwjaxBbCG70wNR5Fp1r3JZJgMH9XcQO9iuAkkB8Qsb7YTPVxiQjkc9vmn1yO_AtmArppOrpCFpvQacNyacXpI6dCXwSfQdqrWIV1Ud3tVvirzpUdRA7p9DIyt56vIU/s4032/Grace%20yoga%202023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMAEbXhDTU32kaRabay68kmMmmbcCl0Pz42Q_kLzj3GW7up5DNUXL36E28FVN7ZjwjaxBbCG70wNR5Fp1r3JZJgMH9XcQO9iuAkkB8Qsb7YTPVxiQjkc9vmn1yO_AtmArppOrpCFpvQacNyacXpI6dCXwSfQdqrWIV1Ud3tVvirzpUdRA7p9DIyt56vIU/s320/Grace%20yoga%202023.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Self Worth & Healing Work </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">This could probably just have a permanent place of honor in my year end review posts. I’m continually working on my self worth and my own healing. This year though, I took a new step. I was introduced by someone close to me to a program called </span><a href="https://maya-augelli.com/classes-offerings-events" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">To Be Magnetic</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> (again, not sponsored, just giving acknowledgement where it’s due). I’ll be transparent in saying that it took me a while to sign up, because the word “manifestation” in the description got me. The word brings to mind, as it likely does for many, lots of toxic positivity vibes. But what this program is really about is healing. It’s getting back to your authentic self, the self you’d be without all of the societal programming and everyone else’s “shoulds”, to who you truly are at your core- something I’ve been struggling with for quite a while. It’s about understanding where you’re blocking yourself, essentially getting in your own way, and where you’re acting from feelings like hurt and shame and fear and low self worth, instead of your authentic self. I recognize a lot of crossover between the TBM work and my work with my therapist, who I’ve been going to for over 15 years, and it all really feels so intrinsically “right”, for lack of a better word. In December, they had a 6-week challenge that I just completed, and I’m starting to notice subtle shifts. That’s the thing that I actually really love about this program. It’s not telling you to drop everything and quit the job that pays your bills and puts food on the table without a plan. It’s all about small changes within the self and how we interact in the world that add up to bigger changes over time. I should add here, because this was also a big concern for me before signing up, that the program acknowledges things like systemic oppression, racism, discrimination, and so many other factors that often get ignored due to privilege. It’s not claiming that you can overcome things like these by “thinking positively” - there’s actually no “thinking positively” involved at all. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The reason I’m going on and on about this program is that it has given me something that I feel I can do daily or semi-daily in which I’m actively making progress in my self worth and in feeling authentically like myself. As much as I love my therapy sessions, I often feel like I’m in a rut in between them. Anyone that knows me knows that I’m great at the big picture/long range dream, and I’m good at getting organized and doing the things that I have to do daily. It’s that middle ground, that figuring out what I have to do daily, that is tricky for me. And this gives me guidance. I’m excited to see how I continue to grow as I continue this program into 2024. </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">IVF</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">If you’ve made it this far, you’re probably surprised that this has yet to be mentioned. This past year or so, we have been in kind of a holding pattern. We ran into some unexpected issues this time last year and had to address those before knowing how we could continue. A few weeks ago, we finally got cleared to move forward. We had a telehealth visit with our RE about next steps. We just have to do our annual blood work since it’s been over a year since we did it and assuming nothing out of the ordinary - which is a big assumption in this process because it feels like there’s always something tripping us up - we’ll be able to move forward and I can start my prep. I’m cautiously hopeful. At this point in the journey, thinking “here we go I’ll be pregnant in no time” would be naive and quite likely set me up for disappointment. But I do have some hope. Part of it’s my knowledge of the process, part of it’s my nature. Once we (fingers crossed) get past the bloodwork part, we’ll be at a point we have never gotten to before, and that alone feels hopeful. We have a great support network, between family and friends and loved ones, and I’m part of an infertility support group that has helped me get through this past year of limbo. I’ve put this update last because I wanted to end on this note. While I try not to let infertility define me/us/life, it has been the elephant in the room for the past few years. While obviously I’d love to have more definitive, overtly exciting news on this front, I’ll take the cautious hopefulness where I can get this. </span></p><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">I’m moving into 2024 with the idea of slow and steady. I spent years in my 20s and 30s making massive changes and actions, everything feeling larger than life. I was super busy, always on the go, involved in everything. And at the time, I think that’s what I needed. It helped to get me here. But now, in my (gulp) mid-40s, that’s not what I’m craving, and I don’t think it’s what I need. That doesn’t mean I want to just sit on the couch with a book for days (ok, sometimes I do), but it means I’m giving myself more space, softness, ease, and grace (not to be confused with Grace, already quite present!). I recognize that instead of bold and overt, I want to cultivate a quiet confidence and self-worth. Rather than making huge leaps, I’m loving seeing steady progress - though obviously in some things, like fertility treatment, you’re going for the huge leaps aka it working, since that’s the whole point. I still love exploring and discovering, and don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy an occasional adrenaline rush. But what I’m more and more drawn to is discovering the beauty, harmony, and magic in life, in people, in the universe. I’m looking forward to approaching 2024 through this new lens, and seeing where it takes me. </span></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></div></span>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-83132401778563524052023-05-12T09:39:00.002-04:002023-05-12T09:44:19.872-04:00Finding A Way To Be BothIt feels like ages since I've posted here, but I had the urge to write, and so I decided to do so. If you follow me on social media at all, you've probably seen me post about the internal tug of war I've been feeling between the younger version of myself and the this older version of myself that hasn't quite felt, well, like myself. It's been particularly challenging because I'm at a stage of life that most people encounter at a younger age, that society slates for younger people. While many friends my age have teenagers and have been in their marriages and careers for 20 years, I've been in this version of my career for two years, my husband and I have been married for five and a half years, and I'm trying to become a first time parent at 43 years old (to be clear, 43 wasn't the goal age, we've been trying since I was 38, shortly after we got married). On top of that, because so many shifts in my life have happened during covid times, which has already been a bit surreal-feeling to begin with, I've just felt like I'm in a weird place. The world and life was already in a situation many of us had never experienced before, and in the middle of that I started a new career, bought a house and moved back to the NJ suburbs, and started fertility treatment. This new version of me hasn't felt so much like a transition, but almost like someone closed the imaginary curtain in front of younger me and pulled up the curtain on "approaching mid-40s, suburban homeowner, corporate employee, infertility me and said "ok this is who you are now." Which I realize sounds ridiculous, since - with the exception of getting laid off and having to look for a new job which turned into a new career path - these were all things I actively moved towards (not that I moved towards infertility actively, but I did move towards having a child actively). Nor was any of this a sudden change. I began transitioning out of running my business full time years ago, when I slowly started adding up hours in my then part-time job. We knew that we were going to want to move into a single family home with a yard and more space when we started trying for a family, and we also planned to move back to NJ because my parents and my mother-in-law live here. And we've known since before we got married that we were going to start trying to conceive shortly after. None of these changes were a total shock. And yet I think it's the gradualness that's getting me. It feels like I should have slowly gotten used to this new version of me along the way, but I somehow I'm still surprised that I find myself here. <div><br /></div><div>I think one of the aspects that I've been struggling with the most is the idea of having to choose to be one of these two versions of myself. I can either be the young, fun, energetic, entrepreneur version of myself, or I can be the corporate employee, middle aged, infertility-battling, suburban home owner that's exhausted before 9PM version of myself, and never the two shall meet. But the thing is, I don't really want to fall into either of these two stereotypical categories. I don't want to be some young, single, partying version of me (or even some young married partying version of me). I appreciate the experience and wisdom that's come with having lived 43 years on this planet. I have a spouse/life partner that I love. My house has gorgeous 100 plus year old charm, and and we have a backyard for Grace (dog) and a pool. Growing up, having an in-ground pool was my marker for someone had "made it", so this feels like next level adulthood to me. And despite this seeming mid-life identity crisis, I'm actually at the healthiest point mentally that I've been in my adult life. I wouldn't change that for all the youth and excitement in the world. I wouldn't want to change any of this, in fact. At the same time, the other day I looked at what I was wearing to the work for one of my "every other week office days", and I thought "I look like a conventional middle-aged corporate-working soccer mom." And other than the mom part, I've never aspired to be any of this. I've never wanted to look like I stepped out of a Talbots catalog, going to my cubicle job in corporate America, and have my big excitement of the week be that Costco carried some new brand of something I enjoy. As much as young, single, partying me isn't me anymore, neither is this fully me. </div><div><br /></div><div>So I've been working with the idea that I can be both. Not both as in "I go out partying and then show up at the my corporate job in my talbots-like outfit the next day. But that I don't have to choose to be "old" or "young" (in quotes because what's old or young has drastically changed as I've aged), to be conventional or out of the box. To be fun or responsible. I can pull in the aspects of each stage of my life that still feel like me now, and I can leave the rest. I can be in this place of transition without having to teleport from one to the other suddenly and never look back. I love my job, actually. I'll probably always miss being an entrepreneur, but I love my job and I work for a great company. I've always liked transportation and logistics, and I can see myself growing through a career here. I have the advantage of a hybrid work schedule which at the moment is really primarily work from home with an office day every other week or so, and that gives me a lot more flexibility and freedom than I ever thought I'd have in a traditional job. I can do this and still teach yoga and still have some travel clients that I work with nights and weekends. And to be honest, especially with the expenses of fertility treatment, knowing I'm being paid a certain amount every two weeks regardless of whether it's been super busy or super slow is game changing. I can also generally log off when I'm done and not have to worry much about it until I log in again, which is drastically different from entrepreneurship (in which I was nearly always "logged on" even if just in my head), and I do appreciate the benefit of this. </div><div><br /></div><div>This ability to be both extends into other areas as well. My style has changed, but I can still honor the uniqueness, the quirkiness, the me-ness in my style choices - I can evolve my look without having to suddenly look in the mirror and not recognize myself. I don't have to dress a certain way (other than situationally appropriate) just because I am in my 40s and own a home in the suburbs. I can be these things and also have a funky style that feels like me, but maybe not exactly like 20s, self-employed, spending my weekends at bars until midnight version of me. I can be responsible and run errands and do yard work and clean the house, and also have fun. Maybe fun has morphed over time. Maybe now it's not (even without it being covid times) happy hour three times a week or big festivals on the weekend or eight hour long concert tailgates. Maybe it's trying new activities - I'd like to try both rock climbing (at a gym) and disc golf. I'd like to get back on my bike and to do more hiking and kayaking and try stand up paddle boarding again. Fun can be hosting friends and family for cookouts and pool time in the back yard. In a week, my husband and I are taking our first destination vacation in over three years (we did a staycation last summer) and we're heading up to a rental home in Maine. We plan to hike and do outdoorsy things, explore the area, and just enjoy the freedom that comes from being on vacation. I've always enjoyed these types of activities, but they are now at the top of the list when I think of doing something fun or enjoyable, instead of mixed in with all of the other activities I enjoyed when I was in my 20s and even early-to-mid 30s. </div><div><br /></div><div>This both-ness is still a work in progress. Some days I am so grateful for my "older" stage of life, and other days I miss the energy and passion and excitement I had 10 or 15 years ago. But I think that's all part of it. Just like I wouldn't expect to one day wake up with a full head of gray hair when the day before it was all brown, I don't expect that there's this magic moment that I'll seamlessly slip from "young" to "old" and think "yes, this is exactly who I am now". To me, the both-ness is finding this point of equilibrium that I can come back to. Finding this new version of me that lies somewhere in the in-between, that's somewhere in process, in transition. This version of me is somewhere in the middle, which is, when you think about it, exactly what middle age is (and before you say I'm not middle aged, I'm 43, which means that double my age is over the average life expectancy, so I am, quite literally, middle aged). As a society, we tend to think of middle age as that time when men get a new red sports car and women get bad dye jobs, both trying to recapture their youth when actually it makes them just look older than they are. And maybe for some people that is the case. But middle age is actually be this really unique space, where we get to actively participate in our aging, our rediscovery of ourselves, our growth. We have the opportunity to take what we still want to gather from our younger years, and transform it into a version that makes sense for today. I see this in the way that my passion has evolved. I may not be as "fiery" as I used to, but I'm also not so "all over the place". Maybe now it's just a softer version, a quieter strength. In my younger years my passion was displayed on my sleeve for all the world to see. Now, I carry it more within me, as a guiding force, and I may have to dig a little deeper to find it or recognize it (the space I am, admittedly, currently in), but I know that it's still there, even if I struggle to access it sometimes. In this middle age stage of life, I have the benefit of wisdom and experience gained from having lived over four decades, and the curiosity to continue to want to explore life. I know my habits and patterns, even if I am not always the best at disrupting the less helpful ones. I know, at the core, who I am and who I'm not, even when how that's portrayed in daily life feels a bit tricky to grasp at times. I may not know exactly where I'm going or how I'm going to get there, but I think that recognizing this is part of being at this stage. I know that no matter how many concrete plans I make, there's no guarantee that they're all going to happen as imagined (in fact, many of them probably won't). This is the stage of life in where I'm able to take everything that's been me and my life so far, and use it to rediscover myself now, and to guide myself going forward. And when I think about it, far from being the dreaded "midlife" stage that society likes to write off as "over the hill/one foot into retirement and old age", middle age is actually a pretty remarkable place to be. </div>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-86699543180724281532022-12-29T15:34:00.000-05:002022-12-29T15:34:10.162-05:002022 Year in Review <p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">This year was extremely difficult for me, for numerous reasons. In a world that’s gone back to “normal” while I haven’t, I feel left behind and out of touch. I realize that this is my choice, but when you truly feel like you’re doing the right thing for your situation and it leads to feeling forgotten and alone, it hurts. In a world full of friends and loved ones having babies and announcing pregnancies and me having had my fifth failed round of IVF in August, I feel both genuinely happy for them and also even more isolated - physically, mentally, emotionally - myself. I debated not writing this at all, because I felt like a lot of it was going to be me talking about my struggles that people have doubtless already heard about. But that’s part of life. Infertility is part of my life just like chronic illness, like my mental health conditions. It’s as much a part of my life as my hobbies and (pre-covid) travels and house and yoga classes and everything else… maybe even more so because it’s connected to my actual body, and it’s not something I can alter my part in, the way I altered travel plans or shifted my yoga classes online when the pandemic hit. I also know that, despite what an extremely discouraging year it was in some aspects, there was some good, and I do want to celebrate that. Not in a “look on the bright side” toxic positivity sort of way, but because I believe in the both/and. Life and humans are complex, and it’s completely legit to have simultaneously conflicting emotions and experiences. These posts also help me to look back over the years, and see the change and growth, to remember enjoyable experiences I maybe forgot about, and to see how I’ve grown through the challenges. </span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-90256b75-7fff-5326-c6aa-1e23bd301b04"><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">IVF/Fertility Treatment</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Note: there’s some decent detail about our fertility journey here. If you’d rather not read that, or if it may be triggering, please feel free to skip this section. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Might as well address the 10 ton elephant in the room first. I went into January 2022 not 100 percent optimistic, but feeling decently. In late summer/fall of 2021, I’d done two rounds of IVF, with two different protocols. The second protocol wasn’t successful, but seemed to work better in that we did get more eggs and one embryo, even though ultimately that embryo wasn’t viable, so it seemed like we had our protocol moving forward. I was starting some additional supplements (on doctor’s orders) that were supposed to help egg quantity and quality, and I thought round three might be better. We did get more eggs, but only one embryo, and that wasn’t viable. Round four was abysmal in every way. I bruised badly, I barely stimmed, the retrieval triggered a migraine flare so that instead of getting a nice 20-minute anesthesia nap followed by a day relaxing watching cheesy hallmark movies, I went under anesthesia feeling like my throat was closing up, and the rest of the day was spent horizontal because I vomited if I was in any other position. After round four, we took a little break, and did a nice staycation (see later points). We rejuvenated ourselves and decided to go in for round five. Despite all of the above, I had hope for round five. They adjusted my protocol slightly. I saw the results. It wasn’t the most eggs I’ve gotten but definitely the best follicles. All of the eggs fertilized and two - TWO!, which was unheard of for me - made it to the blastocyst stage. I was absolutely ecstatic. Until we got the results. Neither was viable. That was August. This fall, it’s been a roller coaster. It seems every time we think things look to be going better, we hit another roadblock. It’s been extremely emotional. Some days I hold it together well, I laugh, I enjoy activities. Other days, I break down in tears on the phone with the fertility center….or sipping my coffee, journaling, or driving, or just existing. I wish I had a nice little bow to wrap up this section, but I don’t. We’re still hopeful. We still have a plan. We aren’t giving up by any means. But we don’t have answers either, so right now, this is a “to be continued…” </span></p><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFteZMNFkOYHVduO7b3b9FIhoRhuQZTY01c1uYu6C56Xi_XBrInf32i-HQbQ8PkjCpkKgPkGbBEtnR5fH-krWax_USPJ963D-DCt9lttSiteUR2OJEm2qqR_629yUYw-HyR_cAQ-enCNpePSZVTJ9AT4-nWRFkc-NDyqilyjZ3UIbzkscUJ5F_yPB/s3088/IMG-7503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFteZMNFkOYHVduO7b3b9FIhoRhuQZTY01c1uYu6C56Xi_XBrInf32i-HQbQ8PkjCpkKgPkGbBEtnR5fH-krWax_USPJ963D-DCt9lttSiteUR2OJEm2qqR_629yUYw-HyR_cAQ-enCNpePSZVTJ9AT4-nWRFkc-NDyqilyjZ3UIbzkscUJ5F_yPB/w240-h320/IMG-7503.jpg" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NfNCbqtSHJZpe6_GEBewy_0Yte6pv852adIosK8Mfv7T0-PYYW--ouY5TuMwpgk4enO3y71Vv8rUMozMEtcD2wiiUn6Vak5m4WXuY4kzK0pl5lNqhavZWc99I38R540KkG1W2yZuvggbwaG9IcOoFFPbfZsds-258Qi_HfCc4Ai8e1tREbhKg1PP/s1800/D2A48061-6831-424C-B70D-946CE33183E1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5NfNCbqtSHJZpe6_GEBewy_0Yte6pv852adIosK8Mfv7T0-PYYW--ouY5TuMwpgk4enO3y71Vv8rUMozMEtcD2wiiUn6Vak5m4WXuY4kzK0pl5lNqhavZWc99I38R540KkG1W2yZuvggbwaG9IcOoFFPbfZsds-258Qi_HfCc4Ai8e1tREbhKg1PP/s320/D2A48061-6831-424C-B70D-946CE33183E1.JPG" width="256" /></a><br /><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Work</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m going to say something that I never thought I’d say about working for a company that I didn’t own: the absolutely bright spot of my year has been work. It started out a little uncertain. The department that my team was under was moved to a new division of the company, but my specific team stayed in the division we were in. This meant that my teammate and I got moved under a new director who was staying under our current division, while everyone else on our team, including our manager, got moved to the new division. I didn’t know the new team well, and I admittedly was a bit nervous, since I had only been at the company just over a year and was just feeling like I was settled into the current team. Shortly after our team transitioned, my new manager, who is actually the director of the larger team, told me that they were creating a new Supervisor position for my team, and encouraged me to apply. Long story short, I did apply, went through several rounds of interviews, and I got the supervisor role! I don’t honestly know if anyone else applied to it or not, but I don’t feel it was given to me simply for lack of options. I feel like I was a good fit for the role, and it provided me with an opportunity to take the next step in my career path as a company. I’m now about 10 months into that role - I started 2/28 - and I have learned and grown so much because of it. I’ve gotten to grow the team I oversee, to have more interaction with other areas of our larger team, to be part of the leadership team (comprised of my boss/our director, myself, a senior manager, and a manager within our department), to help guide and grow Inbound Logistics as a whole. I’m absolutely loving it, and I am genuinely looking forward to continuing to grow in my role, team, and company. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In addition to my new team and role, my company introduced several Associate Resource Groups (ARGs) this year as part of our DEI development, and I joined the Advocates & Allies ARG. Anyone that knows me even a tiny bit knows how important advocacy work is to me, and being able to partake in this group is truly exciting. I’m also grateful to be part of a company that genuinely prioritizes DEI work, advocacy, and allyship. The ARG I’ve joined is still in the beginning stages, and I’m looking forward to delving into it more in the coming year. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We also started going back into the office occasionally. Starting this summer, it was voluntary to come into the office on Wednesdays each week, but not required to ever be in. Myself and my boss and one or two others regularly went in most Wednesdays. In October, the schedule changed so that we have to be in twice a month. We have set Wednesdays throughout the month , and our whole team comes in. It’s still not a ton of people and there’s a lot of empty space, which is nice for both the introvert in me as well as the covid anxiety in me. To be clear, I’m still a strong proponent of work from home, and absolutely believe in always having that option because it is really the only way to provide true equity for certain communities, such as the chronically ill community. It's my preference most of the time. But I have been pretty isolated and don’t leave the house a ton, so it’s been nice to break up the routine, to actually drive and listen to music, and it’s good to meet my colleagues in person, because it feels like we get to connect in a different way. I’m always masked in the office, I eat my lunches in my car, and I surreptitiously inch my mask up to sip coffee at my desk, which is in a cubicle surrounded on most sides by extra plexi glass for additional protection. If I ran the world, there would definitely be rules and guidelines I’d require for in-person office days while Covid is still a thing. But since I don’t run the world, I do my best to feel safe while also getting the experience of being in the office with my coworkers on occasion and breaking up my routine, which has become pretty sedentary and …well… routine. </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Staycation </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It’s been four and a half years since I’ve traveled internationally (Spain family trip, summer 2018) and just over three years since I’ve done a domestic vacation (New England Road Trip late November 2019). Besides seeing friends and family as much, travel is the thing I miss the absolute most since the pandemic started. I’m ok without dining out. I miss live music, but honestly I don’t know if I could go to a packed concert anymore, especially indoors - not just because of covid but because my feelings about large, packed group events have changed in general. I’m definitely ok with primarily working from home. I miss teaching and taking yoga in person, but I do enjoy my online classes, and it’s allowed me to practice with people from all over, instead of just nearby. But not being able to travel feels like missing an intrinsic piece of myself. I feel the most authentically me, the most free, the most like everything is going to be ok, when I’m traveling (other than the actual flight part because I don’t love flying). It’s like the ability to explore and adventure, to wander the streets where nobody knows you and can hold you to some preconceived idea of yourself or judge you by your past, where you can be whoever you want to be, allows my best and truest self to emerge. In summer of 2022 I had the opportunity to go to my family’s timeshare, along with several family members, in Mexico. I didn’t take that option. Primarily because of covid, but also because we couldn’t get our dog into her ‘camp’ that she goes to while we’re away because it was booked. So instead, my husband and I took a staycation. I’ve never done a staycation, and for obvious reasons it wasn’t the same as, say, the two week trip we did to Greece, or a luxury safari in Kenya and Tanzania like we’ve done in the past. But it was wonderful. We planned out day trips and activities. We took one day to hang out by our pool. We did an excursion with our dog Grace. We dined outdoors. We made rudimentary plans, but allowed ourselves to go with the flow within those generic plans, which is something we don’t often do. I thought I was going to be tempted to check my work email or do chores or take care of things around the house because we were home each morning and night, unlike a destination vacation. But after the first day or two of “this feels weird, I’m shirking basically all responsibility other than taking care of the dog”, that impulse went away, and it felt great! I never understood staycations before, but I do now. I’m not saying I’d choose it over traveling if covid wasn’t a thing (and if I could get my dog into her camp), but it definitely felt like a vacation, despite our home base being, well, home. </span></p><div><br /></div><div><span><br /></span></div> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN59lD3cIbqf7UWDBqVw1ZLXWLFAWsR0Hp_NdpADvEb5yElnz3GNHhKs5oG8frlYgzBCjIWEnolDWgGAoWl-9tX90s_Rs55oXiSBJiJCod0Nd_9GQ2cri2OdRNR8tR-Kzf_lmLV706ItyGKINiOtq6243g7ReLDuK4V7EnDyonAZAegsW35FJof0-/s2048/IMG-4147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1538" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLN59lD3cIbqf7UWDBqVw1ZLXWLFAWsR0Hp_NdpADvEb5yElnz3GNHhKs5oG8frlYgzBCjIWEnolDWgGAoWl-9tX90s_Rs55oXiSBJiJCod0Nd_9GQ2cri2OdRNR8tR-Kzf_lmLV706ItyGKINiOtq6243g7ReLDuK4V7EnDyonAZAegsW35FJof0-/w400-h300/IMG-4147.JPG" width="400" /></a> </span><div><br /><div><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnR2QoMKL9EcJBk2smgtNzKbpIoViNEOkc1QOdCRab-nOa0nnPAcIFA0RMYkN_rm8EZQfljR-U-CZ9yPfVuRjdKV0Yv3BHc_7BhlZZ2_acFGeUWmkuXnyjD1Tt9g_Dg25WxedKOqgWL6Qm4HmrgkFJsJSU8amBU0qoCz4Ju9WN56vANgdahC7uE3ig/s4032/IMG-7352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnR2QoMKL9EcJBk2smgtNzKbpIoViNEOkc1QOdCRab-nOa0nnPAcIFA0RMYkN_rm8EZQfljR-U-CZ9yPfVuRjdKV0Yv3BHc_7BhlZZ2_acFGeUWmkuXnyjD1Tt9g_Dg25WxedKOqgWL6Qm4HmrgkFJsJSU8amBU0qoCz4Ju9WN56vANgdahC7uE3ig/w300-h400/IMG-7352.jpg" width="300" /></a><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">House Updates</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Owning a 100+ year old home is like the gift that keeps on giving, if that gift included both anticipated and unexpected issues that cost tons of money. All kidding aside, we love our house - it truly feels like home. We have been continually having work and updates done, some of which were planned and some not so much, essentially since we moved in. This past year, we got the remainder of our rooms painted (by professionals, not ourselves), and the remainder of the new windows we’d ordered installed. We had a lot of new plumbing work (not planned), including our upstairs shower re-done by necessity, since they had to take the floor and part of the wall out due to said plumbing work. We got our fence variance, which allowed us to move the fence significantly closer to the edge of the property line, giving us much more usable space in our backyard. It’s been a game changer, especially for Grace, who now has about triple the space to run around. As part of that fence variance, we had to do landscaping along the fence within a year, so we had landscapers come out to dig up and mulch the area, plant arborvitae, drift roses, hydrangeas, and ornamental grasses. It’s a massive improvement. And finally, one of our front pillars fell down. Like something out of a dramatic movie scene. One minute it was there, the next minute it was a pile of rubble on the front porch (ahem… still is a pile of rubble on the front porch because we haven’t gotten it cleaned up yet). But we got composite pillars and had them both installed. They still need some paint work, but they’re in, and our entryway roof isn’t going to collapse, so that’s a good thing. The house is continuing to come together, and I honestly can’t imagine living anywhere else. Even on the days when things happen like our front pillar crashing onto our porch, I’m so grateful that we have this home. </span></p><div><span><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQVjiZIVOjvTY0PsszCfUn4vMem7W62hRQDbeRa3QiM55JiRYnAZr370pHBExaAE1V8oLzKmt5kutsT5A3hn-cI1MTBc5voXf5bldBJ8-iy4Os_8UHN-rApW3_vGHMLPyfVIRAW1kPqZEloO4voNsx8op0UIK_9OKMgxDi3vZsnDt_4Ch6-VnqPhz/s4032/IMG-7436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijQVjiZIVOjvTY0PsszCfUn4vMem7W62hRQDbeRa3QiM55JiRYnAZr370pHBExaAE1V8oLzKmt5kutsT5A3hn-cI1MTBc5voXf5bldBJ8-iy4Os_8UHN-rApW3_vGHMLPyfVIRAW1kPqZEloO4voNsx8op0UIK_9OKMgxDi3vZsnDt_4Ch6-VnqPhz/w300-h400/IMG-7436.jpg" title="Fence being moved out to expand our yard" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span><br /></span></div><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yoga </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wish I could say that my online yoga business is taking off and I’m getting tons of new students and adding a bunch of classes, but authenticity is always my thing, so I can’t say that this is the case. As studios have reopened and dropped mask requirements, people are practicing more in person. My class numbers haven’t grown, in fact they’ve shrunk from the “early stages of the pandemic” numbers, but I still have a steady group that comes to my Tuesday benefit class, as well as my pop-ups, especially on Sundays. My groups may be small, but they’re dedicated and loyal, and that means the world to me, and I’m so grateful. They spread the word, inviting friends and family members who occasionally join. I couldn’t ask for a better group to share practice with. I’d love to grow my yoga offerings, to get further into more limbs of yoga in addition to asana - maybe online workshops or retreats, that at some point in the who-knows-when future I’ll eventually feel comfortable doing in person. Maybe I’ll explore that in 2023, we’ll see. I’m also taking an online Yin Yoga course (and have done a lot of reading/work on Yin Yoga in addition) to further my knowledge of this branch of yoga. I’ve signed up for an online Restorative Yoga course as well. I’d love to be able to take these in person, but I’m just not there yet, and at this stage of my life, as my time gets pulled between work and home and fertility treatment, the online courses give me the flexibility that works for me. They by no means make me an expert in these areas (nor does my 200 hour in person training make me an expert in yoga), but they give me the confidence to better approach these types of classes, and they deepen my own knowledge, even if just to have that knowledge for myself. In addition, it’s really helped me shift my perspective. As a former gymnast, I’ve always been that student that can’t wait to get into an inversion or arm balance - not because I think you need to do these to “do yoga”, but because I personally enjoy these. And I still enjoy these, though I have less chance to practice them these days. But focusing more on Yin, bringing those elements more into my practices and classes, has allowed me to slow down, to focus not so much on the physical aspects of the poses, but on the deeper aspects - the stillness, the quiet, the opportunity to get beyond just the physical asana into something deeper. It’s tough to be deep when you’re trying to balance yourself upside down in a handstand - or at least it is for me. Yin has brought a balance to my practice that I’m starting to see in my life as well, and I’m really intrigued and interested to explore that balance further, as I continue to grow my yin education and practice, and delve into Restorative as well.</span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Writing</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For my birthday, my parents got me a subscription to </span><a href="https://welcome.storyworth.com/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Storyworth</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Essentially, it helps you tell the story of you. Every week for a year, it sends a question about yourself, your life, etc.. You write a reply and add it to the Storyworth site. When the year is up, you receive a hardcover book with all of your stories. You have the option to skip/swap out a question, and while they send you a prompt every week, there’s no timeline per se, other than that you answer them all in the year. Meaning that you don’t have to answer one question to get the next. So if you wanted to sit down the last week of the year and answer all 52, I suppose you could. I try to get most answers written within the week, but some weeks I have to push it to the following (like I may this week with the holiday). This has really gotten me back into more weekly writing, and I love that. I journal daily, but I haven’t been blogging like I used to. I just haven’t really felt all that inspired, and combine that with all of the time I spend on the computer for work, I’ve been shying away from blogging in my free time. But with Storyworth, I don’t have to feel “inspired’ per se - I don’t have to come up with the content, they do. And it’s a whole range of questions that I may not have thought to write about. Some more serious, some more light-hearted. I’m loving it. It feels really good to write again regularly, and it’s a great creative outlet for me - something that I’ve felt lacking over the past couple of years. </span></p><br /><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I think that sums up the bigger aspects of 2022 for me. There have been lots of smaller things in between. I’ve gotten to visit with several friends (either outdoors or indoors masked) that I hadn’t seen since before the pandemic, which was great. I’ve also been more in contact this year with several friends who are also still limiting activity due to covid, and have been feeling similar isolation and loneliness as I’ve been. It’s been really nice growing these friendships and deepening those connections. My husband and I have done some day trips, in addition to our staycation. We’ve been slowly exploring record stores in the area and building our record collection. We spent a lot of time grilling (ok that’s mostly him, I just provided company) this summer, and enjoyed our pool. As the weather has turned colder, we’ve enjoyed our fireplaces. We’ve laughed a ton, even though this year has held some really disappointing and emotionally painful moments. It’s been a year with a few big events and a lot of waiting (and anxiety) in between, and trying to make the best of some really difficult situations. </span></p><br /><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div></div>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-31359656471748517442022-04-12T15:23:00.001-04:002022-04-12T15:23:37.752-04:00Easter Nostalgia<p> Holidays are a time that always make me nostalgic. Easter particularly so. It was my Grandma Ventura's favorite holiday, and all through childhood and adolescence, really until I went to college, we'd spend Easter in Buffalo at my Grandma's. It wasn't just us and my parents at my grandma's - it was aunts, uncles, cousins, great aunts, great uncles, second cousins. Plus, three of my siblings lived in Buffalo as well, and while I don't have specific memories of seeing them on Easter, I do associate going to Buffalo with the opportunity to see them as well (for clarity's sake, three of my siblings are actually half siblings who did not grow up in the same household as me, but I never differentiate the "half" because I just think of us all as siblings). So Easter trips to Buffalo were a big, big family affair. </p><p>When I think back on these days, the overwhelming feelings that surfaces is connection. I think back to arriving at my grandma's sometime in the middle of the night (we drove up after my parents finished work, and it's about a 6.5-7 hour drive), and my grandma welcoming us in with Italian wedding soup and zucchini bread. It never occurred to me that this was an odd combination at any time, let alone at 2AM. It also never occurred to me how much effort it must have taken my grandma to be awake and appear alert at that hour. Now, I recognize these as love. As a kid, it was just what going to grandma's meant. </p><p>I think about how on Good Friday, we weren't allowed to watch TV or go out or do "anything" between 12 and 3PM, per Catholic tradition. We were allowed to visit together at my grandma's, though. And oddly, listen to Harry Belafonte records. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure the latter was a diversion from standard Catholic practices. As a10 year olds, sitting around in the living room visiting with adults and listening to Harry Belafonte wasn't exactly how we wanted to spend an afternoon on our Easter break, but looking back at it, it's one of the memories that sticks out the most. These days, I'd give a lot to be able to sit around with my grandma (who passed in 2008), my family, aunts, uncles, cousins visiting and listening to Harry Belafonte records. I can't honestly remember the last time we were all together, but if I had to guess, I'd say it was over a decade ago, and obviously longer for times that included my grandma. </p><p>I think about how all of us cousins used to play croquet in grandma's back yard, and the games of basketball we played using the hoop that she had hung on her garage door. How we'd make up skits and songs. I think of the family "talent shows" (I use the word loosely) that my grandma loved SO much - she always had everyone participate, and somewhere in someone's possession (hopefully someone related to me, at least) are VCR tapes of my cousins telling jokes with tennis racket bags on their heads and my grandma and I singing duets. </p><p>I think of waking up Easter morning and searching for our Easter baskets when we were younger, and when we got older, helping our younger cousins to find their baskets. Then going to Easter mass Sunday morning, all dressed up in our Easter best. (Gratefully, Grandma didn't usually take us to Easter Vigil, and if you've ever been a kid having to sit through Catholic Easter Vigil, you likely understand this sentiment). </p><p>When we got home it would be a big meal with aunts, uncles, cousins, my grandma's siblings and their families. We'd extend out the dining room table as far as it would go, and put up card tables for the kids. And by kids, I mean everyone under the age of about 30, because grandma's dining room table wasn't all that big. There would be some traditional food and some questionable food, which was generally my Aunt Clara's contribution, and everyone steered clear of it. There would be pupa cu l'ovas (cookies that have a hard boiled egg, in its shell, in the middle of them), of which we'd eat the cookie part and give our parents the egg, who dutifully ate probably a dozen eggs over the course of Easter weekend. My uncle would inevitably take the peppercorn eyes from the butter lamb and stick them on it's butt so that it looked like it was pooping, and we'd always try to hide that fact from my grandma, all while snickering and giving each other knowing looks. At least 50 percent of the time there was a good natured food fight. 100 percent of those time it was the adults. </p><p>As I write out all of these memories, I realize how silly so many of them are, and yet how they still bring a smile to my face. As ridiculous as we all were at times, we were connecting. We were spending time together - actually spending time together, not all being in the same room but watching TV or on phones and other devices. We interacted, we played games, we had conversations, we made memories. Together. These days, my siblings and cousins are spread across multiple states, some on the other side of the country. I haven't spent a full holiday with more than about 8 people in years, and even that's somewhat rare. I think it hits especially hard with my siblings and some of my cousins having their own families now, carrying on some of these traditions and creating their own, and us still struggling with our IVF journey, not having our own children yet to do the same. It gets to me at every holiday, but I think especially Easter, as I associate it so much with my grandma, and Buffalo, and our time all together. It's been especially difficult these past two years in the pandemic, since contact has been limited and traveling to see people has been nonexistent for us. </p><p>Still, writing through these memories has been soothing. At times, I wish for the innocence of being a kid whose biggest concern was having to sit through three hours on Good Friday without "doing anything" except listening to Harry Belafonte, or having to wait until after Easter mass to dig into our Easter baskets. At the same time, it reminds me that I don't have to always take life, or myself, so seriously, and that you don't have to be a kid to goof around and have fun. It also serves to remind me that we don't always realize we're making memories at the time, and that just because circumstances aren't what you imagined they would be right now, it doesn't mean that you won't some day look back on these moments with a new perspective and appreciation for all that they did offer. </p><p><br /></p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-53405527063244041472022-02-09T09:35:00.003-05:002022-02-09T09:35:41.817-05:00Fog<p><i>I originally wrote this post about a week ago, on a morning when fog was blanketing the area and there was still about six inches of snow on the ground from a storm the previous weekend. </i></p><p>I sit in my sunroom that's also my home office and gaze out the windows at the morning fog. It settles in a haze above the snow, surrounding the trees in the park across the street, creating an ambiance that feels both slightly eery but also peaceful. There's an emptiness to it, but not in the hollow sort of way. Not in the way I've been feeling lately. The emptiness of the fog-laden world outside gives the impression of being expansive, the openness it creates feels peaceful, inviting, a space of possibility. A place where if you pause quietly and listen, instead of feeling lost, you feel connected. </p><p>Lately, I've been feeling isolated. Physically (pandemic plus winter), socially, emotionally. In this isolation, the quiet - from lack of activity, lack of connection with others, lack of feeling a purpose- has felt incredibly loud. It's had me feeling lost in the world, in my relationships with others, with myself. This morning, though, something feels as if it has shifted internally. As I peer outside at the white and gray tones of my snow and fog covered neighborhood, the stillness, the quiet, feels like an opportunity, purposeful somehow. </p><p>I'd recently noticed that I have been fighting against the quiet, the stillness. For the past few weeks (and really, probably much longer), I've been telling myself a lot of stories. I've been telling myself that if I post more on social media, if I try to interact more with people online, I'll feel less alone. I tell myself that if I can find more activities and actions to fill my time, I'll feel more fulfilled because I won't be bored, because I won't feel like "I have nothing to do" or "I have no purpose". I've been once again feeling this urgent need to figure out exactly what I'm going to do with my life right now, and telling myself that if I figure this out, I'll feel happier. To be clear, I wasn't doing all of this consciously, at least not fully. Yes, I knew I was posting or interacting with people - I wasn't sleep-scrolling. But it wasn't an intentional, thought out decision. I was grasping and clinging and trying to control a lot of things that I have no way of controlling, because they are outside of me. In short, I was doing the exact opposite of the theme word and supporting words I've chosen for this year - <a href="https://liliesandelephants.blogspot.com/2022/01/nurture-nourish-release.html">Nurture. Nourish. Release.</a> </p><p>Toward the end of last week, I decided to take a social media break (I did check LinkedIn, but I don't really count that). It wasn't sparked by a specific incident. I simply felt that I was putting way too much stake in the curated lives of others, in who and how many people reacted or replied to a post - many (most, in fact) of whom I would likely never hear from again if somehow social media ceased to exist. In trying to "connect" more, I was feeling increasingly lonely. I was allowing it to affect my self-worth and my connection with myself. My brain also felt overloaded with stimulus, most of it not even information I particularly cared about, but it was right there in front of me, and I'd get sucked in. It was taking up valuable brain space, which is especially tricky for someone like me, whose cyclothymic and anxious brain easily jumps all over the place without the added stimulus of alerts and notifications and constant media. Likewise, I noticed that the more I railed against having unused time/less to do, the harder I tried to wrack my brain for "what am I doing with my life", the more intensely disconnected I felt from myself, from any sense of purpose. </p><p>This morning, it occurred to me that maybe this stillness, this quiet is exactly what I need right now. I have noticed that since being off social media, I'm feeling more creative. Over the past few days, I've had several ideas pop into my head and have grabbed pen and paper to jot them down (I'm still old school when it comes to any writing that's not blogging). It feels like being online less, and having fewer pop up alerts and notifications and stimulus, have I've found myself drawn back to some of the yogic concepts (not physical poses, but other aspects of the practice) that we studied in Yoga Teacher Training, but that I haven't explored as much since. I'm finding that as I'm pushing myself less to "figure it all out right now", I'm feeling less antsy, more open to letting ideas come in and percolate a bit, enjoying the fact that I get these thoughts swirling in, instead of trying to force them to create something more concrete right this moment. </p><p>Of course, realizing what I am feeling doesn't mean that I stop feeling it. Being able to say "ah, what I'm feeling is loneliness" doesn't mean I feel less lonely, just like how I frequently recognize when I'm feeling anxious, depressed, or hypomanic, yet knowing this doesn't make these feelings go away. I can't simply change my thinking to "I will not feel lonely/depressed/anxious/etc", that's not how the brain, and particularly the brain with mental illness, works. But recognizing what I'm feeling, and having an idea of why I'm feeling it, can help me to process it and, in some cases, take actions to help. Seeing where I'm pushing and grasping and clinging, where I'm fighting against what I'm feeling and it's doing more harm than good, can help me to make shifts, even if subtle and even if temporary (i.e. I'll likely go back on social media at some point, even if it's just to do things like share these blog posts). </p><p>So this morning, I'm welcoming the stillness, the space. In gazing out my windows at the fog-filled, snowy park across the street, I'm able to see how quiet emptiness can be a place for opportunity, openness, exploration. How it can be expansive instead of hollow and encapsulating. And while I know that an empty park filled with snow isn't going to erase my need for connection to other humans, or make certain aspects of my life, like going through IVF treatment during a pandemic, feel less lonely or isolating. But it reminds my of why the vision board I created at the start of 2022 contains clippings of the phrases "Nature's Sanctuary", "Practice in Solitude", "More Presence", and "Truly Live Yoga". There is beauty to be found in the stillness, in the quiet, in the foggy space between where you are now and knowing exactly where you want to be. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-87206391497945320972022-01-26T15:35:00.000-05:002022-01-26T15:35:18.651-05:00Nurture, Nourish, Release<p> In my <a href="https://liliesandelephants.blogspot.com/2022/01/personal-growth-finding-balance-in-2022.html" target="_blank">last post,</a> I mentioned that have chosen a theme word and two supporting words for the 2022, and that I would be sharing more about them in an upcoming post. I want to mention that I used this <a href="https://www.susannahconway.com/word/">workbook from Susannah Conway</a> as part of the theme word process, this being my first time choosing a theme word for the year, and if, like me, you're having difficulty narrowing down a word, I'd suggest taking a look at it. To be clear, this is not a paid promo or anything. I like to give credit where credit is due, and this worksheet helped me come up with a theme word, and subsequently the two supporting words, which I would not have thought to choose on my own. In fact, I went into the worksheet thinking that I likely had a specific word chosen, but that I'd use it to kind of "double check" myself. Throughout the four day worksheet process, I realized that the word I was leaning towards, while extremely important to me and possibly will be a future theme word down the road, didn't quite capture what I was looking for (in case you're wondering, that word was "connection"). </p><p>Part of the trouble I was running into when choosing a word, and this probably isn't a surprise to anyone who's routinely heard me say "I'm going to call an audible" when trying to decide what menu item to order, is that I was having difficulty narrowing it down to one final choice. I felt like there wasn't just one specific word that encapsulated the feeling that I was going for. Doing the worksheet, I was reminded that people often choose supporting words, and this helped greatly. I was able to find a combination of words that, together, formed what I was looking for in a theme. </p><p>The theme word I chose for the year was Nurture. The supporting words and Nourish and Release. I had a specific thought process behind choosing each one, and I thought I'd share that here. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>Nurture</b></p><p>Those of you familiar with my IVF journey might think I chose this for the association it often has with parenting/nurturing a child, and obviously, if I get to apply it in that way, I will be over the moon. But that's not why I selected it. When I decided on nurture, I was thinking of nurturing myself. In particular, nurturing my connection with myself, connection with divine/God/nature/universe/something greater than myself, with those closest to me (instead of focusing on more connections, focusing on nurturing the ones I have). I want to nurture my creativity, the ideas that float into my head that I so often tell myself "no, that wouldn't work, I'll never be successful at that" - maybe it won't, but I want to try to nurture, to cultivate those instead of just automatically dismissing. I want to nurture my spirit, my sense of free-ness (different from freedom) which 'I've struggled to find lately. I may not be able to connect with it in the ways I traditionally do, like traveling and exploring, but I can find other ways. Throughout the year, I may find additional areas that of myself and my life that I want to nurture. I'm open that, as long as it feels genuinely me, and is not born out of needing external validation or people pleasing. For now, this is my starting point for nurture, with the knowledge that it may adjust and shift a bit along the way. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>Nourish</b></p><p>A family member was talking about how they like the word lush, and in the context of my theme word nurture, this led me think of the word nourish. To clarify, I'm not saying that having nourishing food should be some sort of luxury. I'm thinking nourishing beyond just "nutritional food". I'm thinking nourishing my body, my mind, my heart, my soul. In terms of the body, this does of course involve making sure my body feels like it's getting the what it needs food wise, but based on listening to my body, not based on calorie count or any type of diet, because it's not about weight or shape, it's about my body feeling nourished in every sense of the word. It's making sure I give my body the rest it needs, both in terms of sleep and in terms of intentional rest and relaxation. It's silly things, like instead of letting my skin go dry and cracked because I'm trying to save on lotion (my internalized issues with abundance are a whole other blog post), I actually use the appropriate amount of lotion so that my skin feels better. It's nourishing my heart with activities that bring me happiness and joy, nourishing my soul with anything that speaks to it - nature, music, dance, yoga (all eight limbs, not just asana), meditation, prayer. To use my family member's word, there's a lushness to the idea of nourishing myself that isn't there with the idea of simply sustaining. I can eat food and get enough sleep to function, but that's just sustaining, surviving. Similarly, I can exercise because I've exercised my entire adult life and feel like I "should", or I can move my body in ways that feel fulfilling, joyful. And to be clear, I realize every meal or movement or night's sleep won't be nourishing. Sometimes my blood sugar gets low reason, and I grab basically anything to eat and hit it off at the pass before it drops suddenly. Sometimes the it's a cold/dreary day outside and what I wanted to do is go for a walk or hike (which would feel more nourishing), but I end up exercising indoors because the movement helps my mental and physical health, and it's better than nothing. I get that all this. But the idea is that I'm consciously working to build more nourishment into all areas of my life. And by doing so, I feel I'm setting myself up to nurture better. If I'm nourishing my body, mind, heart, soul, I'm going to better be able to nurture my creativity, my ideas, my relationships with myself, others, something greater, which is why I chose this as a supporting word. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>Release</b></p><p>This one sounds counterintuitive to the above - they both feel like they're "adding", while releasing feels like taking something away. I chose the word release in thinking of yoga concept of Aparigraha, or non-grasping. While in yoga Aparigraha may often be used in relationship with material things, for me, it brings to mind the idea of letting go in a broader sense. I think about how tightly I hold on to a lot from the past - my storefront, being a full time business owner, just to name a couple. I hold onto past versions of myself that no longer serve but I can't quite let go of. I hold onto other people's expectations and versions of me. I hold onto the "if only's" that I can't change. I hold onto perfect images of how certain things "should" be, which of course inevitably leave me disappointed because nothing and nobody is perfect, least of all myself. I hold onto so much self shame, blame, and guilt, nearly always for things that don't warrant it, or at least don't warrant the amount I'm putting on myself. And I don't feel that I can properly nurture and nourish myself if I'm so tightly grasping onto all of this. There's no room for appreciating the present, for newness, for growth, for moving forward when I'm already holding onto so much. In that sense, the idea of releasing feels supportive of the concepts of nurture and nourish, and it's why I've chosen this as my second supporting word. </p><p><br /></p><p>One of the aspects that I love about all three words is the softness of them. They exude, to me, a quiet confidence, an inner strength and commitment to self that feels extremely authentic to me. For years, I've struggled with low self-esteem, lack of confidence, low self worth. I've also struggled with the fact that my anxiety and cyclothymia, particularly the hypomania, give people in inaccurate impression of me. I often talk a lot and loudly, despite being an introvert who values quiet, reflective time. Some of that might be just "who I am", but some of it is anxiety and/or hypomania. Anxiety also makes me feel and look to others as high strung, jumpy, someone who has a tough time letting go and relaxing. Often times, people- including myself - have a tough time getting past all of this to see the me that's underneath. This past year, I've connected more with the self that feels genuinely me, and there's a gentleness to it, a softness to it, that I'm truly enjoying. I'd like to continue to develop this, and I'd like to be able to bring it into my interactions with others and the world around me. </p><p><br /></p><p>This is the first time I've done a theme word (and supporting words), and so far, I'm finding it helpful. I write these three words in my journal as part of my entry each morning. I have these words, and the concepts behind them, as part of my toolbox of reminders for working with my all-over-the-place brain, my cyclothymia, my anxiety. When I need to redirect or guide my thoughts, center myself and be more present, or remind me of my commitment to myself, I can draw on these words. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-41424530352899758372022-01-14T10:45:00.000-05:002022-01-14T10:45:11.160-05:00Personal Growth - Finding the Balance in 2022<p> On 2018 and 2019, and even through much of 2020, I was highly focused on, for lack of a better phrase, personal development and growth. To be clear, as someone who's been in therapy regularly for the past nearly fifteen years, I'm always focused on my personal development and growth, particularly as it relates to my cyclothymia, anxiety, and the effects of these on my being (low self-esteem, self worth, self confidence, to name just a few). But for those few years, I was focusing on it even more - or at least I felt like I was. I listened to podcasts, read books, joined groups, participated in online workshops. And I think it did help me understand certain tendencies and aspects of my personality better, as well as those of others, which I think can be incredibly helpful when it comes to improving your relationships and connections with others. Then, in 2021, I was fresh into a new job, I bought a house and moved states, and I started IVF treatment, and my focus shifted. Life became much more functional - learning my new job and getting settled into my new company, all the things related to buying the house and selling the condo, all things related to fixing up the house (electrical overhaul, roof repairs, plumbing repairs, new pool filter, etc), and then IVF treatment, in which my schedule is planned around injections and bloodwork and pelvic ultrasounds. So my focus on personal development turned more solitary. I spent more time in meditation and prayer, journaling, mindful movement, in trying to connect with myself and something greater than myself (God/divine/universe/nature). I dug in deeper with my therapist. I felt the shift in my life keenly, and it was both encouraging and lonely. </p><p>When I look back at a lot of the growth and development work I was doing in 2018-2020, I realize it wasn't fully internal work. It was done with more external goals in mind - much of the work I was doing was geared towards entrepreneurs and business building, since I still was running Chimera Travel along with my day job. Then, once I started teaching yoga and barre classes, in the back of my mind it was always "ok maybe *this* is the thing that will bring me back more fully entrepreneurship. Or maybe it's this and travel planning." I was doing personal development work, but without realizing it, I was doing it to achieve something outside of myself. And don't get me wrong, I think that doing the internal work so that you're a better partner, parent, friend, coworker, employee, business owner, member of society is important. But you can't skip the step where you first make the inward shift. It began to feel inauthentic, not really "me", unfulfilling. In 2021, when that focus moved internally, I felt way more authentic. But I also felt like something was missing. I felt like I went from thinking about the future to only focusing on what was right in front of my face, and I felt a serious lack of passion, excitement, and hope. To be clear, I understand, particularly as a yoga teacher and practitioner, that the only moment we actually have is the present, and that a lot of anxiety can come about from thinking about the future. But I also know myself. The intuitive part of my INFJ personality thrives on having plans, goals, dreams. I literally was a full time professional planner for over a decade. Having something in the future to look forward to, think about, focus on helps to energize me. Whether it's my business or my travel or someone else's travel or my plans for the weekend or the next hike I want to go on, having that thing to look forward to is important to me. And especially in the second year of a pandemic where it so much can't be planned, I felt the loss of looking to the future even more keenly. </p><p>As we enter 2022, my focus has been on merging these two approaches. I want to continue my commitment to my inward focus- particularly my connection to myself and to something greater than myself. But I also want to mindfully, intentionally bring back in some external resources as well. By mindfully and intentionally, I mean that instead of grasping at anything labeled "personal development", I plan to selectively choose books, talks, other resources that focus on the internal connection for the purpose of truly understanding and loving myself better, not as a means to an end to something external. That's not to say that I don't care how my actions, behaviors, etc affect other people, or that I don't care about my connection with others - I do, almost to a fault at times. But I know that I have to do the work from the inside out, that if my focus in doing anything is solely "how does this lead to/affect (insert external situation)", that it won't feel authentic, and it could even lead to feelings of resentment (i.e. I'm doing all of this and I still didn't get this external result I wanted!). </p><p>This past weekend, several family members and I did a virtual vision board creation get together. I also, for the first time ever, chose a theme word - and two supporting words - for the year. In choosing my words, I purposely chose ones that remind me to recommit to myself, words that are softer, gentler, loving and supportive, to counteract how I so often speak to myself when depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, and self-worth do their thing. As I move through 2022, I'm looking forward to using this vision board, theme words, my carefully selected resources, and some favorite internal tools and habits to find the balance of inward focus and authenticity that I've come to love, and the passion I felt missing in 2021. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-6516690684261892492022-01-03T09:58:00.000-05:002022-01-03T09:58:03.278-05:00The Blessings Jar<p> Before I really begin, I want to make something clear: I realize that the word "blessing" can give people pause. Its so often thrown around without much meaning, or used in a spiritual bypassing/toxic positivity type of way - i.e. "You should just count your blessings instead of being depressed! Look at all you have!". If you know me, you probably know how much I dislike this type of message. I don't think everything can be solved by having an "attitude of gratitude". I'm in no way going to try to convince people that the heat-breaking thing that happened to them this year is a "blessing in disguise". That kind of comment ignores people's incredibly real struggles, and I can tell you from first hand experience, it not only doesn't help, but it can actually do a lot of harm. So in case you were thinking that this was going to be some sort of "silver linings" post, please know, that's not the case. I think nearly every one of us can agree that 2021 was extremely rough on a global/societal level, especially when you add it on top of the absolute *$%&ing mess that was 2020. And that's coming from someone who, all things relative, had a personally pretty decent year in 2021. This post is actually my first year of utilizing my blessings jar, my own my mental and emotional process as I read through the contents, and the interesting patterns I noticed throughout the process. </p><p>In case you're wondering what a Blessings Jar" even is, it's a jar in which, at some determined frequency or randomly, you put in small reminders about your "blessings". Presumably, the idea is that at some point you take out those reminders and look at them, though I suppose there could be some other way of using it. Also, in case the word blessing is still throwing you off, I used it pretty loosely in writing down my own "entries". For me, it was often more like small things I felt grateful or thankful for. I simply use the word Blessings because the jar was given to me and literally has the phrase "Blessings Jar" on the front. </p><p>I've actually had the jar for a couple of years, but for some reason, I decided to utilize it in 2021. Maybe it was coming on the heels of 2020, feeling like there was so much I'd taken for granted before the pandemic (i.e. being able to hug loved ones and friends, which I still wasn't doing at the start of 2021), and I wanted a way to note these types of things so that I wasn't as inclined to take them for granted going forward. I don't honestly recall the "why", but I'm thinking it was something along these lines. I decided that every Friday, I'd write something, no matter how small, that I felt grateful for over the past week (i.e. a blessing). I folded the piece of paper and put it in the jar. Often I dated them, for purposes of looking back later, but sometimes I forgot. Some weeks, I added a "bonus" one if it was a particularly good week (or, more likely, I was having a tough time deciding which to write down, which I acknowledge is also a lucky indecision to have). </p><p>Today, the last day of 2021 as I write this, though I likely won't publish this until early 2022, I sat down and read through all of the "blessings" from the past year. I wrote them down, in no particular order, in a word doc, and them put them in a ziplock gallon bag that I labeled "2021 Blessings Jar", and put them in the container where I keep all of my old journals, so that I could free up the jar for 2022. </p><p>It was particularly interesting to look through all the "blessings" right after writing and posting my <a href="https://liliesandelephants.blogspot.com/2021/12/2021-year-in-review.html" target="_blank">2021 Year in Review blog</a>, as I was able to compare and contrast my thoughts on the year as I looked back on it as a whole, and what I made note of week to week in my blessings jar. And while the blessings jar obviously focused more on the "good", for lack of a better word, often, it was the "good in the wake of the not so good". For instance, numerous of my "blessings' were about the love and support I received after difficult times during IVF, or during a particularly tough cycle of depression. </p><p>Looking through my weekly notes, there were a few themes that I found interesting. </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Vaccination. You could practically chronicle the timeline of vaccination release in the US Northeast based on my blessings notes over the weeks and months: "Parents fully vaccinated!"; "Got our first (vaccine) shot scheduled"; "First vaccination shot done". "Fully vaccinated!". "Got my booster!". This is one of those aspects of the year that it would be interesting to look back on five, ten, twenty years from now to see how it looks in retrospect. Will it become one of those "remember when we all got COVID vaccines?" Or will it become like the flu shot where it's just something I do annually and no longer feels like something worth noting? (Note: This is NOT a place to debate vaccination. Please don't try.) I also think the vaccine is a perfect example of something that I previously took for granted - which I realize is a privilege to be able to do so - but given the circumstances, changed into something that, I saw as a "blessing". I have had plenty of vaccines in my lifetime, both the regular ones, plus ones I've needed for traveling such as Hep A & B, typhoid, yellow fever. And I've always felt grateful that I'm able to do the type of travel that requires the vaccines, or that I don't have to worry about things like yellow fever and typhoid being threats in daily life. But I never felt so incredibly grateful for the actual vaccine itself, for the science behind it and the people who worked tirelessly on it and the access to it, which is a privilege many don't have. But now, I am, and I hope this is an area in which I continue to remember how lucky I am to have access to this. </li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Support, love, and connection with family, loved ones, and friends was my by far the most frequently mentioned topic among my blessings. Some were more generic, saying things like "the support of my family after a difficult week". Some were more specific, in that they named a particular tough situation that my family supported me through. Some were more along the line of "lucky to have such thoughtful friends" when they made me feel special for my birthday, or "So great to finally see xyz friend (outside, fully vaxxed) for the first time since before the pandemic!". Others were simply about the fact that my family is so close (emotionally, though my parents live close), and that we've connected even more throughout the pandemic, even if virtually. This is no surprise to me, since I know how deeply I value deep connection overall, but I think it's especially notable in a time when so many of us, myself included, are feeling isolated and lonely. </li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Some were bittersweet to re-read, knowing what I now know about the situation, especially as related to IVF. This is where it was particularly interesting to compare my week-to-week blessings with my overall thoughts from the year in review. For instance, one of the blessings said "We got one fertilized egg from our first retrieval!". I now know, as I re-read this, that the egg didn't make it to the blastocyst stage (the stage where it could be transferred). Or for the next retrieval, the one that said "Our embryo made it to blastocyst stage!". Looking back, I remember the heartbreak a week later when we found out that this embryo had complex genetic abnormalities that meant it wouldn't survive, and the additional absolute gut punch when I read the report from the testing and, not being prepared at all for it, saw that they included the sex of our embryo. And yet, despite how extremely difficult it was to lose two embryos back to back (yes, even with them still being in the lab, it felt like a horrible loss), looking back at these notes, I can almost feel again how excited and hopeful I was, even if reading them made me tear up with sadness at our losses. It's an interesting dichotomy, to be both sad at knowing the end result, but still appreciate how much joy it gave me in the moment, and hopefully will again as we go through subsequent IVF cycles. </li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>There were blessings in my jar related to things that I somehow totally forgot, with everything else that happened in 2021. For instance, one read "Us (Brian & I), family, loved ones all safe from hurricane/storm Ida". I know I'm extremely fortunate to be able to say this, because it means I wasn't greatly impacted by it, but I actually forgot that Storm Ida happened this year. It also reminds me how quickly we tend, as individuals and as a society, to move on from things that don't directly impact us in the day to day, and this gives me pause. I'm know there are so many other crises that happened this year that I've allowed to get swept away in the current of so much else, and it reminds me to be more cognizant of this - that just because something isn't making headline news anymore (or ever) doesn't mean it isn't still happening/the effects aren't still lingering, or that it doesn't matter. </li></ul><div><br /></div><div>There were certainly more than these four themes, but these were among the most notable and interesting aspects I discovered as I went though the jar. My jar is now empty again, 2021's "blessings" stored away safely, and ready to start again in 2022. It will be interesting, as I go through the year, to see where the themes overlap from the previous year, and what new ones arise. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-91879444876255405982021-12-27T15:03:00.004-05:002021-12-27T15:31:04.766-05:002021 Year In Review<p> The past few of yeas, I've tried to do a year in review post - a look back on the past year. In 2020, this felt especially tricky, seeing as nobody (including myself) actually did anything. To be honest, 2021 felt a lot of the same. If anything 2021 feels a bit more isolating for me, because the "we're all in this together" has vanished, and I'm feeling the disconnect more keenly. But still, 2021 has personally been a pretty eventful year, especially for a year in which I'm still not really doing much. </p><p><br /></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Work</b></h4><p>I started the year in a new job - technically I started Dec 7, 2020, but I was basically still in training until 2021. In the past year, I've grown in the roll and responsibilities, now training vendors on the same system I was still learning a year ago. I've taken on special projects and feel like I've learned so much in such a short time. We were supposed to go back to the office in May, which turned into hybrid office/work from home in September, which turned into February, which we now just found out will be April 2022 at the earliest. I won't lie, I've been desperately missing the days of running my own business, of having my storefront, but if I'm going to work for a company that's not mine, I'm so grateful to work for a company that truly is putting its employees first. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8E6yaIcGKjFVEuZIm4cU14LUS3sHjNfPSfT5bDihYEYAcIV2gB4g6wZkfKLg5Mixq4o5RrqztGMiHx8GfFKUCYm0A-E-TNgygOZTqOY4b0qYJ4Upy5DmTIqDhu9oeRjoGWzhkRfi4EwnA-pSX3jmg0kM5d7ze_V5__A_JdbEPmnSLbcdFij7V1PGJ=s3863" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3863" data-original-width="2725" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8E6yaIcGKjFVEuZIm4cU14LUS3sHjNfPSfT5bDihYEYAcIV2gB4g6wZkfKLg5Mixq4o5RrqztGMiHx8GfFKUCYm0A-E-TNgygOZTqOY4b0qYJ4Upy5DmTIqDhu9oeRjoGWzhkRfi4EwnA-pSX3jmg0kM5d7ze_V5__A_JdbEPmnSLbcdFij7V1PGJ=w320-h400" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My home office/yoga room, featuring Grace.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>Home</b></p><p>On April 30th, we closed on a house in Merchantville, NJ. It's a single family house built in 1918, with all the charm of a century plus old home but the upgrades of a modern home (though we've had our share of upgrades in terms of things like electric and plumbing). It has a yard, an in ground pool, and tons of natural light, and is a mile and a half from where I grew up. I have my office/yoga room in the sunroom, which I absolutely love. We sold our condo in Philly and while it was bittersweet to leave the city, knowing it will likely be the last time I live there, I absolutely love our new home and community. I wouldn't change it - this is where I want to be at this point in my life. </p><p><i><br /></i></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzXXuRcBbYQ7U_b2p6XAozyJlEprDsVyHlNz0CWP9Ei_512S9ohCFoc050nFQChDeYxqBRfosu2M_4ljBLDGy-BBC4IULGfawDAp4KdyHfoRTQF1i8vmzV5gSDN1gDHOaPP6o3xLvJlZnJ-Qcm4evjlQ3Bxklh5H1-Q8ouMxGjlfM0Nh7OEOatZh2E=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzXXuRcBbYQ7U_b2p6XAozyJlEprDsVyHlNz0CWP9Ei_512S9ohCFoc050nFQChDeYxqBRfosu2M_4ljBLDGy-BBC4IULGfawDAp4KdyHfoRTQF1i8vmzV5gSDN1gDHOaPP6o3xLvJlZnJ-Qcm4evjlQ3Bxklh5H1-Q8ouMxGjlfM0Nh7OEOatZh2E=w400-h300" width="400" /></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My husband and I in front of our new house just after closing. </i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>Chronic Illness</b></p><p>In February I got what I initially thought was a cyst in my wist. Within a couple of days I realized that it was exponentially swelling and getting hot and red and was most likely not a cyst, but an infection. I got into a hand specialist quickly, and he thought it was likely a one-off infection as well. As a precaution, to rule out a fracture or growth, he did an x-ray. The xr-ay revealed that the tissue in my hand was calcifying, and I got diagnosed with a condition called Calcium Pyrophosphate Deposition Disease (CPPD). CPPD was formerly known as pseudogout, because the symptoms mimic gout, but without the uric acid issue. There's not a ton known about CPPD. I asked my specialist if it was autoimmune like Rheumatoid Arthritis or more of a "wear and tear" type of arthritis like Osteoarthritis (which I also have) and he said they don't really know. I don't know if the infection activated CPPD somehow, or if it just caused the existing condition to flare and it was because of the infection that I sought treatment and discovered the CPPD. Either way, I now have two forms of arthritis , but I'm lucky that it hasn't really flared since. </p><p><br /></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>IVF</b></h4><p>Perhaps the biggest event this year (yes, bigger than buying and selling a house and moving back to New Jersey) is that we started IVF treatment. For those who don't know, we've been trying to conceive for over three years. My being 42 (41 when we started), we were put straight into IVF, after initial tests showing no obvious issues of why we haven't been able to conceive. We've gone through two rounds of egg retrieval, but haven't yet made it to point at which we can do a transfer. We had a break after our last round, due to the lab closing for two weeks in mid-December (so they couldn't start any new IVF rounds), but I go for my next bloodwork on 12/28, and if all looks good, we'll start another round in early January. IVF is... a lot. It's a lot on the body (injections in the belly and thigh multiple times a day, blood work and pelvic ultrasound every couple of days, all the hormones), and it's a lot on the mind and heart. It's physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting and exciting at the same time. Each round is another chance that it could work, that this could be the round where you make it to the transfer, where that transfer sticks, where you finally are pregnant, where your dreams of becoming parents are finally realized. At the same time, you know the statistics, the history, the disappointment that each previous round has brought. It's intense in every way possible, and at times, feels all consuming - especially in a pandemic when you don't have the usual activities and visits and such to serve as a distraction while you await the next test results, the next steps, or when you get the news you hoped you wouldn't. Plus, or course there's all the hormones, having to inject yourself in the belly and thigh multiple times a day, your schedule having to work around those because they're time sensitive. There's the fact that for the 10 days leading up to retrieval and two weeks afterwords, I can't work out or do yoga, two activities that usually help my anxiety and depression when I'm struggling, which means I've had to be creative with my healthy coping strategies. But even with all of this, I also realize I'm privileged to even have the chance to go through this - so many do not. Also, a big shout out here to my husband, who has gone to every single appointment with me, even the ones where I had to be in Philly at 6:45 AM for something basic like bloodwork. Nearly always, he's the only partner there. But he knows how I will panic if I can't find parking and am running late or if, completely hypothetical of course, the elevator shuts down while I'm on it and I burst into terrified tears on the way to my appointment in front of strangers. Also, he's excellent at assisting me with the trigger shots, and let me tell you, when you have a several inch long needle going into your butt cheek, it's a godsend to have someone who knows what they're doing and doesn't balk at doing it. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSxAX35JAAdptknEQdW5eNbF3fDD4uodEhqW8y0js8I45mKKxhaG51V9weVARZlFmMp8kdvqFCajVRXcsltVGkLiH2Imv9GVfvoNNdhZI3QAQgTHUaXVDtAGWsm7OBXK4wbG8GwjAXTDyByXNlhviW1Bvh0DObUsbwKlTms5vFZKihVbyCFX8oGasB=s3088" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2316" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSxAX35JAAdptknEQdW5eNbF3fDD4uodEhqW8y0js8I45mKKxhaG51V9weVARZlFmMp8kdvqFCajVRXcsltVGkLiH2Imv9GVfvoNNdhZI3QAQgTHUaXVDtAGWsm7OBXK4wbG8GwjAXTDyByXNlhviW1Bvh0DObUsbwKlTms5vFZKihVbyCFX8oGasB=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Headed into an egg retrieval</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p><b>Holidays</b></p><p>For the past 5 plus years, we've lived in a condo, so while we had lights up around our bedroom and deck (which stayed up all year to be honest) and an artificial Christmas tree (which, embarrassingly, also stayed up all year one year), we didn't get to do the live tree, outdoor lights (minus the deck) thing, nor did we get to hand out halloween candy or have people over for a BBQ for summer holidays, nothing like that. In May, we moved into our house. We were still cautious around others, but the outdoor space gave us room to more safely see people. For Father's Day, my younger brother and his family came into town, and we had them and my parents over to the pool. It was an absolute blast. It felt like being on one of our family vacations (because there's always been a pool) albeit in NJ, and at our own home. But still, so much fun. On labor day, weekend we had my parents over for a fire pit in the backyard and dinner. Nothing huge, but still, the ability to "host" a get together in our own home. <br /></p><p>Halloween in my town is HUGE. The town I live in is called Merchantville, but every October, they turn it into Monsterville - literally, they put something up over the "Welcome To" sign to change it to "Monsterville". The stores have a halloween decorating contest, homes are done up like haunted houses. And Halloween itself... it's unreal. We set up a table out front (and were masked the whole time) and had kids lined up down the block for a solid 3 hours before we finally ran out of candy. It's not an exaggeration to say we probably saw over 300 kids, and that was before we had to "close up shop" because we ran out two hours before trick or treating ended. If we'd had enough, I imagine we would have had probably 500 trick or treaters. Not only that, but everyone is dressed up. I mean everyone. The parents, the kids, dogs, some people handing out candy. One person just kept driving around the block for probably a solid hour, playing "scary" music for ambiance. I've never seen anything like it. We actually took notes on how we need to plan and up our Halloween game for next year. </p><p>On Thanksgiving my brother's family came into town, and while we celebrated at my parents' house for most of the day, my husband and I hosted dessert. Well, we provided the venue anyway - my dad made all of the pies. But we had everyone over, and we hung out in our upstairs family room watching football, enjoying the fireplace, eating dessert. </p><p>And most recently, Christmas. We got a real tree! In fact, we have two trees up - the real one and the artificial one that we had from the condo. We also have a 9-foot artificial tree that we bought from the people that sold us the house for a steal, because it wouldn't fit in their new house. We didn't put that up, since we felt three trees was ambitious for our first year in the house. We decorated the front porch with lights and got a light up wreath (artificial) for the front door. We got decorated various rooms in the house. It was so much fun. </p><p>Suffice it to say, I absolutely love having a house for the holidays. </p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQSSLFpsl-seXNUzlHdRdy1q5rsvT3TuIS-UToH1uBdVjfAy8a96EH_hejL-LjCtP1cHBiLlFvHA5zfcVbHPH4ESJYGPTgjPI7nBqL1SmTSWVlbNwujQYyujI1IejLFO3vrj61yHosURQ-IjeX8naKiBTuM5wfqsR8uSYprEScGxp07GJFGT3IWAkh=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQSSLFpsl-seXNUzlHdRdy1q5rsvT3TuIS-UToH1uBdVjfAy8a96EH_hejL-LjCtP1cHBiLlFvHA5zfcVbHPH4ESJYGPTgjPI7nBqL1SmTSWVlbNwujQYyujI1IejLFO3vrj61yHosURQ-IjeX8naKiBTuM5wfqsR8uSYprEScGxp07GJFGT3IWAkh=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our home decorated for Christmas.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p><b>Family</b></p><p>In 2020, my family was supposed to take our biannual (every other year, not twice a year) family vacation. That means my parents, all five of us siblings, spouses, and all of my siblings kids'. There are 20 of us in total. We had luxury cabins booked outside of Sedona for a week - at least I think it was a week, honestly it seems like a lifetime ago - and then were going to head to Scottsdale area to one giant house (our usual family vacation style) for the last two or three nights of the trip. With us being spread across the country, these trips are often the only time we all are able to get together. Needless to say, that 2020 trip didn't happen. In fact, from March 2020 on, the only family I saw were my parents and twice outside, I saw one of my brothers and his family. Finally, this summer I got to see all of my siblings and their families. It had been a year and half since I'd seen my older brother, two years since I'd seen one sister, and three since I'd seen the other. We weren't all together at the same time, but I got to see each of them, and it was wonderful. We spent the majority of our time outside, and everyone 13 and over was fully vaccinated (kids 5-12 couldn't be vaccinated at the time, but they are now!). I have no idea when we'll be able to do another family vacation. As of now, we're hoping for Summer 2023, but it's obviously a bit of a moving target - it won't be sooner, but it could be later. Still, I was so grateful to see everyone, even if it wasn't all together and we did have to stay mostly outside. It renewed me, especially as we went into the fall, and now winter, with new variants, and it's tougher to see people again.</p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTLm8-_WKcZFKBQqEqYaHKdHLr0Xlk655EnV1uAEd-2AmsY-Ayf8A-igZJAPnPjLqBQJ5fX1_F2rZ9lA08Kyyr0ZrqNul52dQR9RQ41HkEt0az8dYlOX80o7uzfcyzPHRyt__Joz1ILeZ4Dtf7QxmWS-52-4hQcsR5vu1Icz6J2RNdmqRoNPrnc5mm=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTLm8-_WKcZFKBQqEqYaHKdHLr0Xlk655EnV1uAEd-2AmsY-Ayf8A-igZJAPnPjLqBQJ5fX1_F2rZ9lA08Kyyr0ZrqNul52dQR9RQ41HkEt0az8dYlOX80o7uzfcyzPHRyt__Joz1ILeZ4Dtf7QxmWS-52-4hQcsR5vu1Icz6J2RNdmqRoNPrnc5mm=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>We didn't get many pics of us in the pool, so here's Grace again.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Personal and Spiritual Reconnection </b></h4><p>I spent a lot of time feeling isolated, disconnected from others, lonely, and kind of forgotten about.invisible this year (outside of immediate family/loved ones and a couple of close friends). Which I won't sugar coat it, kind of sucked. As I watched the world move back towards a normal I was not and am still not comfortable with (because of covid, but also because I just don't believe our pre-covid "normal" was normal to begin with, or should have been), I felt quite out of site out of mind to many. Which I have to, rather sucked. But the fact that I have still mostly been staying home, and haven't been as connected with the outside world, allowed me to shift the focus to other forms of connection, namely with myself and with something greater than myself (which I realize some people will groan/roll their eyes at, and you are absolutely entitled to your thoughts on the matter, as I am mine). Both of these connections are ones I've struggled with in the past - the spiritual connection because my spiritual beliefs/faith doesn't quite fit in a box that people often like to use for these categories. For a long time, I thought that meant I didn't fit anywhere, that I was somehow not doing faith or spirituality right. But going through yoga teacher training, where we were encouraged to explore the concept of Isvara Pranidhanadva", the idea of "your own personal connection with something greater than yourself/the universe/God/whatever term you used (in YTT we called it 'Your Own Personal Jesus' and I really hope people get this reference), helped me to feel more comfortable in exploring my faith and spirituality in a way that resonated with me. This, along with my own personal exploration of self and working with my therapist for many, many years, has helped me to also dive deeper into my connection with myself. There was a long time where I felt like I'd forgotten who I was (like, until this past summer/fall). I still feel a bit on shaky ground here. I explained in a previous post how I feel like I've spent so much time trying to form to what others want or suggest or need, that I've lost who I am without all of those influences. So I've begun working on rediscovering this. It's an ongoing journey. I've been doing a lot of processing of things that I should have processed more a while ago, both external and internal situations.</p><p><br /></p><h4 style="text-align: left;"><b>Writing</b></h4><p>After publishing my novel in 2019, and then doing a lot of blogging on yoga and wellness on my other website in 2020, 2021 was a bit lacking in the writing department. But some of my family members and I started a virtual writing circle, where every couple of weeks a different person suggested a prompt, and we all wrote our pieces, shared with each other via google drive, and offered up thoughts on each others' pieces (honestly that it may have started in 2020, it's all kind of merging together). Despite having several blogs, having my works on multiple sites and publications, being published in an anthology, and having self-published my novel, I am still extremely leery to show my work to others - especially my non blog style type of work (blogging feels different, maybe because it's my life and nobody's more of an "expert" on what's going on in my life or how I'm feeling about it than me, so I don't mind so much). So having the opportunity to write and share with people, along with prompts that took me well out of my wheelhouse of blog style writing about myself, provided an ideal opportunity to expand and explore my writing and my creativity. </p><p>I also began blogging again, and it's felt really good to get back to this outlet. For a while, I felt a bit like I wasn't sure what to say, like I had blogged for years and it didn't really seem to go anywhere. But I've missed it, and when I think back to why I started blogging in the first place - to share my story, both as a bit of a catharsis for myself, and in hopes that it might help others that also are struggling - it doesn't matter if it "goes anywhere", if I get tons of followers or comments or whatever. If it helps me and it helps one other person reading it, that's enough. </p><p>Finally, I started writing another fiction piece. I'm not sure exactly where it's going to lead. Maybe a short story, maybe a novel (or a mini novel), maybe just another piece written in my notebook. Similar to when I started writing Johanna's Secret, the literally came to me overnight. With Johanna's Secret, I woke up with the opening sentence in my head. With this piece, I had a dream, and a particular character, and connection with that character stuck with me. Ironically, it's not the protagonist of the book, and yet I've built the story around that person. Whatever it turns out to be, I'm enjoying writing a story again, and curious to see where it leads. </p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWKc-BIOqHdIbw2ChJuUxrdObear2Rd5ChzB7P0sJ48q15cFrrgggFUodD-WpkrAlUEYMT-yoIDc8q04XxF8c5m8drdo4lrxchUoVrMlUIdh1PYqzTyYJcmGbqW0_qR6iB7Vfb8zSHRb3g1EIn9q2OoJqOKvcarxLb3XeU-DQ818U7_jgoOq8_vMI2=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWKc-BIOqHdIbw2ChJuUxrdObear2Rd5ChzB7P0sJ48q15cFrrgggFUodD-WpkrAlUEYMT-yoIDc8q04XxF8c5m8drdo4lrxchUoVrMlUIdh1PYqzTyYJcmGbqW0_qR6iB7Vfb8zSHRb3g1EIn9q2OoJqOKvcarxLb3XeU-DQ818U7_jgoOq8_vMI2=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Morning writing and coffee session</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p><p>As I look back over this year, it held a lot of conflicting feelings. Feeling like I wasn't doing anything at all (day to day because pandemic) but simultaneously doing really big life things like buying a house and moving and starting IVF. This year I both realized how lost I've been feeling, and began to navigate back towards myself. I've worked through so many emotions, often at the same time, often that are seem like they're odds with each other, but that must all exist and be felt as part of the healing process. As always, life with a rapid mood cycling disorder is a lot of ups and downs. Add in a pandemic, IVF hormones, and drastically increased anxiety, and it's been an emotionally tumultuous year. But I've also found pieces of myself long forgotten, pieces of my spiritual connection, of my deepest self when the influences of the outside world are as stripped away as possible, and those have been extremely grounding and comforting. It's these pieces, along with the closeness of family and loved ones and closest friends - even when I can't see them in person, that I will hold onto and continue to explore as we move into 2022. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-80689365728840751432021-12-02T12:27:00.000-05:002021-12-02T12:27:40.088-05:00Little By Little <p> In my last post, I shared how I've been struggling with my emotional and mental health, and have started digging deep into some healing work with the help of my therapist. One of the challenges that's been especially frustrating for me is that I haven't felt like myself lately. And by lately, I actually mean it's been quite a while, but it's something that's been slowly building, that I noticed glimpses of from time to time, but that I hadn't stopped to actually fully digest and think about.</p><p> I acknowledge that many of us have likely felt this way over the past year and a half, when so much of what we thought of as an integral part of "who we are and what we do", vanished. Whether it was losing a job during the pandemic that had been an integral part of your life for years, or the inability to do the activities that you're so passionate about, or the changes you noticed within yourself when we were all quarantined and couldn't see one another, I suspect this year has had a bit of a "what's going on and who am I and what is this life" affect on a large number of people. For me though, it's more than that. Yes, I absolutely miss traveling, and running my travel business full time (which was something I stopped doing full time pre-pandemic, but pandemic made it obvious that it wasn't going to be an option any time soon). Obviously, I missed seeing loved ones when restrictions were at their tightest and still miss seeing so many friends. I miss teaching yoga in person, being able to participate in group activities. The loneliness and isolation is something I've shared about in both my previous post and on social media. But this is more than that. </p><p>What I've noticed is that the vibrance has drained out of me. I've always been a person that's absolutely loved living life. Even when life was at its toughest (and those of you close to me know that there have been some extremely tough and dark times), I've always been a passionate person, a person with so many ideas and convictions and thoughts and opinions. I've always had a project or a plan I'm excited about, and if I don't, I find one or I create one. To be clear, I don't do this to "keep busy". I do this because I live life curiously and immersively (if that's a word). When I was younger (teens, early adult-hood), I was never been a person that's afraid to take up space in the world. I was optimistic and hopeful, and granted, some of it could have been naivety, but most of it wasn't. Most of it was that I believed that I was capable and worthy and enough. I think about myself as a teenager, when I tried out for every single solo in chorus (and I got one every year), or all through gymnastics when I routinely did the hardest level routines I could. I never thought "I might try to do this and not make it". In fact, it was a bit the opposite - I'd be like "eh, you know what, I think I'm going to throw this trick in competition that I've literally never landed in practice". (I can't say I recommend this by the way - I did a lot of landing on my head and crotching the beam in my teen years). Or even as an adult, when I quit my full time job to start my travel business in a brick and mortar storefront. I literally never had the thought "what if I don't succeed". And again, this isn't the best business strategy, I realize 16 years later, to not think of what could go wrong. But the point is, I didn't doubt myself. I went after my dreams because I was sure I could make them happen. </p><p>And yet over the years, I've watched this shift drastically. I've watched my belief in myself, my feeling of worthiness and being capable, my self-acceptance all but disintegrate. I've watched myself step into the background. I've watched myself become a people pleaser, a person so afraid to rock the boat. I've watched myself fold in on myself, absorbing everyone around me until I'm not sure which ways of doing things, which preferences ,are my own, and which are other people's that I've taken on. It's like if for years, the only clothes you owned were ones other people bought for you. Then one day someone asked you what your style was, and you realize you have no idea, because for years you've only every dressed in clothes others gave you. It's not that others were ill-meaning in buying you clothes - in fact, probably quite the opposite, they wanted to do something nice for you. And it's not that you don't appreciate the clothes, you do. But you have no idea what style is actually <i>yours</i> without any other influence. What do you actually want to wear? What do you feel best in? What makes you feel most like you? </p><p>I want to be clear, I'm not talking about accepting everyone else's ideas without thought. For instance take my vegetarianism and not buying animal products- I'm not going to start eating meat and buying leather if others tell me I should (note: they don't, this was just an easy example). My morals and ethics and values are not up for debate, and in these thing, I know exactly who I am. But it's the smaller pieces of life, the "what do you want to do" or "how should we do this" type of the decisions we make every day, that don't seem like they'll alter you all that much, but when they're constantly filtered through everyone else's preferences and wants and needs, end up adding up. Eventually you realize you're not even sure what the answer to these types of questions are without all of the external influences. I've also noticed that this is leading to inertia, which I adamantly dislike feeling. I can't really explain why, except that when you feel like you're not really yourself, it's tough to be motivated. You stop making suggestions or voicing your opinion or taking initiative, not only with others, but with yourself. In turn, that makes me feel even less like myself, and it becomes a vicious cycle. </p><p>This is where I have been lately, and although I know it's a pattern for me, it's really hitting home this time. I know, if I can get past the low self-esteem and lack of confidence and low self-worth, that my opinions are valuable, that I have something to offer others, the world, by being myself. So, along with the work that I'm doing with my therapist, I've started a new daily ritual. Each day, I list two things that I want to do - they're often seemingly insignificant things, small things that I need or want to get done, or occasionally, small ways of treating myself, to remind myself that I matter. It might be something fun or silly, it might be something that needs to get done and I've been putting it off. And each day, I've been working to make sure that I do these two things. Not only does it give me a feeling of autonomy, because I'm the person choosing these things and doing them, but it helps me push through the inertia, which then makes me feel better about myself, more like the self that has was such a self-starter, so determined and passionate and felt like she could make things happen. </p><p>It's not a momentous change. In fact, if I'd not written about it, I doubt anyone else would even know it. But it's taking the daunting and often impossible-feeling task of "rediscover myself" and breaking it down to manageable pieces and daily action steps, that I'm hopeful can get me there little by little. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-82769450623148568802021-11-19T08:21:00.004-05:002021-11-20T14:44:41.200-05:00A Long Overdue Update<p>Hello Friends! It's been a while since I've written. A ton has happened in the past year-ish, and I've been navigating through all of the changes. I've missed writing here though, so I thought I'd give it a go. I can't promise how frequent it will be, but you've got to start (again) somewhere, right? </p><p>For those who haven't been up to date on my life in the past year, here's a quick breakdown of what's happened. </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>In mid-Oct 2020 I got laid off from my job. Our contract ended, and due to covid, there weren't other contract spots for those of us that had been at the site where I'd been working. </li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>In early December 2021, I got a new job, working in Transportation Management Systems/Global Logistics for a retail company in the off-price market sector (I realize I sound like I'm doing a generic intro on Wheel of Fortune here, but I try to keep my job and my advocacy/blogging separated, since this is in no way affiliated with my job). I work for a great company. It's extremely different than working for myself, which I miss terribly, but as far as 9-5s go, I can't complain. And we're still working from home until at least early 2022, so I'm liking that. In fact, if I could choose to permanently work from home, I would in a heartbeat. But that's a soapbox for another day. </li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>This past spring, we sold our Condo in Philly and bought a home in Merchantville, NJ (which means we also changed states and are now NJ residents again). Our house is basically my dream house. It's a Tudor style front, but more victorian-y inside, with the perfect combination modern updates ad older character. It has a fenced in backyard for our dog Grace (and us) and an in-ground pool, multiple fireplaces, gorgeous hardwood floors, and an abundance of unique features. As much as I've loved living in the city in the past, I'm loving living in Merchantville now, close to where I grew up (literally 1.5 miles away from my childhood home where my parents still live), having all the space, both indoors and out, and being part of this smaller community. </li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>We started IVF treatment. Of all of the changes we've gone through in the past year, this has been the most intense, the most emotional. Being 42 and trying to get pregnant for the first time, I'm on a pretty intensive regimen (did I mention it's intense?). I feel lucky that so far, I've reacted to the meds better than I expected. Considering that IVF meds can have major effects on mood, and I live with a mood disorder, I was expecting it to be extremely rough, and my side effects have been pretty low. That said, I haven't yet done an embryo transfer, so there are some medications I believe are in store for me when we get to that stage that are some of the heavy hitters. But until then, I'll enjoy doing pretty well with the meds. The stress of IVF, on the other hand, is tough. It's physically demanding on the body - shots in the belly and thigh multiple times a day, multiple doctor appointments weekly for bloodwork and pelvic ultrasound is intense. Moreso, there's the emotional aspect. Each step of the way, you have to prepare yourself for exciting or difficult news, none of which you actually have control over, other than to follow doctors orders with meds and such: Do you have follicles big enough for egg retrieval? How many eggs did they get from the retrieval (if any)? How many of those eggs fertilized (if any)? How many of those fertilized eggs made it to the blastocyte stage (the stage where they could do an embryo transfer)? Do those blastocyte embryos pass the chromosomal test (at 42, chromosomal testing is highly advised)? It's a lot, and each time you get through one stage, you have to prep yourself for the next. And each time it doesn't make it to the next stage, there's a massive sense of loss, of grief. </li></ul><div><br /></div><div>Mentally and emotionally, despite doing well with the IVF meds, I've been struggling a bit. Since going through IVF puts me at higher risk, in addition to underlying health conditions and having higher risk loved ones, I'm still being extremely limited in my activities, since covid is still a concern for me, even vaxxed and boosted. I've seen immediate family, and a couple of friends, always one on one (or one couple, if they're couple friends). With the exception of immediate family, I see people almost exclusively outside, which means that as winter approaches, unless my friends are up for bundled up walks or snow-related activities, I'm likely to have even fewer interactions. I don't yet feel safe, nor is it doctor advised, for me to do so many of the things I love: travel, in person yoga, events/festivals/concerts, (group) special events for loved ones. So the feeling of isolation, of loneliness ,as the rest of the world (or most of it) seems to be moving back to "before times, is high. On top of that, I'm not getting to participate in many activities and pieces of life that bring me joy and enjoyment. While I realize that the pandemic has had a much greater effect on many lives than feeling isolated and not feeling joy, this is beginning to take its toll on me. I'm really missing connecting, even virtually. I'm as tired of zoom gatherings as everyone else, but it seems like the connection that everyone ramped up during 2020 - the virtual get togethers, the group texts of friends and family, the checking in on each other regularly, finding creative ways to connect, has gone by the wayside, and I miss it. I'm an introvert, so I don't need (or want) the huge group events and such, but I do value deep and meaningful connection with those close to me. </div><div><br /></div><div>In addition, I've lately begun working more deeply through some personal struggles. As much as I focus on my mental health, my strategy when going through some extremely difficult situations in the past has always been to kind of plow forward and just "deal" with it. I often didn't stop to see how life and situations that arise are taking their toll on my self worth, self-esteem, ability to love and accept myself. I've always focused so hard on just getting through that I often haven't paused to see the lasting effects. Added to the stress of IVF and the isolation mentioned above, it's catching up with me lately. The good thing is, I realize now that this is a struggle that needs to be addressed. That addressing it is, in fact, long overdue. I know I can't continue to just keep trying to get through it, that I need to dig deep into this, do the work and give myself the time and space to heal. As difficult as it is, in a strange way, I'm looking forward to it. I want to reach that place that's on the other side of "just getting through", that place that maybe I don't struggle quite as much with things like self-love and acceptance. I know that these will likely never be easy for me. Depression and anxiety and mood cycling make that elusive, and I can't just work harder and make it go away. I have an illness, one that's lifelong, and I understand this will always be a challenge. But I can take steps to help. It will likely get more difficult before it gets better. Wading through healing, and the pain that requires it. Letting go of things long held, even false negative beliefs about oneself, can be a convoluted and emotional process. I liken it to a physical injury - when I broke my leg and tore ligaments as a teenager, I had to go through surgery and PT. Before surgery, my broken leg had mostly healed, and my joint had semi-adjusted to not having a PCL I actually felt *almost* back to normal. Except that it wasn't sustainable. Eventually, my leg with it's un-healing fracture and my knee without it strongest ligament would give out, and I'd be in an even worse position. So I had surgery and PT. And the recovery was arduous and painful and I cried a ton and I battled it out with my PT, but I knew I was healing. In the end, my leg, even with it's scars and scar tissue and the three screws and a wire that I still have in it, is so much more healthy, so much stronger, than it would have been if I'd not gone through all of that, if I'd left it alone and not tried to heal fully. And it's the same with my mental and emotional health. </div><div><br /></div><div>So that's where I am. I remember a family member once saying, of raising kids, that the days are long and the years are short. Although obviously a way different scenario, life right now feels a bit like that. There's simultaneously so much going on, and also sometimes so little (i.e. no travel, no yoga classes, no gatherings or events, less connecting with people, etc). But I know I'm making progress. I know that I'm mentally and emotionally healthier than I've been in a long time - the fact that I feel ready(ish - as I'll ever be) to dig through so much and work so deeply on healing attests to that. In the short term, I'm excited for the holiday season - especially the first holiday season in our new house. I'm trying to also focus on these smaller joys. They are also part of the healing process, of stepping back into myself, of finding small hopes in the every day. </div><p></p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-65436505035599642552020-10-21T14:25:00.000-04:002020-10-21T14:25:24.372-04:00New Beginnings<p> I know I promised to get back to writing on here, and in truth, I have drafted a few blogs but not yet gotten them published. The past few weeks have been a bit mentally and emotionally hectic. I've been wading through a few things that I haven't been able to share publicly, some of which I'm now able to. </p><p>Yesterday was my last day at the company where I've worked for the past 2.5 years. I'm super grateful for the opportunities I've had there - I have the chance to work in administrative capacities in both Borough management and L&I/Code departments, which is certainly something I hadn't done before, and I learned so much. I also feel incredibly fortunate that I've made it to Oct 2020 with a job - I know there are so many that have been dealing with job loss since the early spring. </p><p>Today is my first day of being unemployed and it feels ... weird. Not bad weird, but weird. Partly, it's a schedule thing. I'd been back in the office since June, so it's not even like I'm transitioning from WFH to ..... not WFH. And even during quarantine when I was working from home, I had set hours (because that's when the Borough was open) so I logged on and off at set times. Now, I have no schedule. And I'm sure I'll get into a rhythm, but for this first day, it feels strange. It's not a holiday or a long weekend. I'm not off for a Dr appointment or anything. I'm just not working. </p><p>It's funny, for years I ran my own company full time and for much of that time, worked from home or coworking facilities. Even when I had my storefront, I created my own schedule, so the feeling of not having to get up get ready and keep a set schedule shouldn't be all that unfamiliar to me. But for the past seven years or so, not only have I worked in an office, but I've worked in jobs with set shifts. When I worked at a conference center, my was driven by the events being held, and most recently at the Boroughs, it was based on Boroughs operating hours. So it feels unusual to not have to be at a set place at a specific time. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE having autonomy over my schedule, which is one of the things I enjoyed so much about working for myself (and one of the many reasons I'm a huge advocate for companies offering flexible working arrangements where feasible). I'm just not used to it these days. </p><p>In addition, being at home (technically I'm actually writing this from my parents' house) on my personal computer, which hasn't gotten much use since I went back to the 9-5 type job, brings me back to the days of running my travel business, of working for myself. And there's an ache, both a nostalgia but also a longing, to make this a reality again. At the same time, the timing probably is not quite right, considering that we've been looking to buy a house (we're in a one bedroom condo right now), along with other factors. Plus, there's the fact that my primary industries in terms of doing my own thing are Travel and Wellness/Yoga/Health, and both of those industries are suffering big time right now. I'm not going to book anyone on international trips during a global pandemic (I wouldn't for ethical reasons, even if countries were letting us in). I'm not in a place where I personally feel comfortable (i.e. safe) teaching yoga and wellness class live, especially without masks, and I certainly won't be planning any in person programs or retreats any time soon. My zoom classes are going well, but I'm not at the point where I feel they'd be enough full time, in and of themselves (financially speaking). I'm feeling this pull of freedom, of autonomy, of entrepreneurship which I love so much, or my path, but I don't know that I'm in a place to follow it just yet, and not quite knowing where my next step will be. In addition, since my major industries are not thriving right now, knowing where to look for a job that might fit, or what type of job I would want to find, is tricky. </p><p>Still, I'm looking at this as a new beginning. It's a little tough because it wasn't a planned new beginning, and it's not a certain new beginning - i.e. it's not like when I left my job in Fitness to start my own travel company, where everything was a bit uncertain (and in hindsight I had little idea of what I was doing other than the actual planning of travel), but it was exhilarating, hopeful, and I had a firm direction that I was moving towards. With this, that's not the case. Still, I'm trying to stay open. I'm trying to approach this new place I'm in with curiosity and excitement at possibility. I think that it will work out. I simply don't know how it will work out, or if the next step is going to feel like it's the right path or the necessary one for the current situation, that I can later look back and realize had to be part of the journey all along. I'm sitting with a lot of feelings. I'm allowing them all. I'm laughing. I'm tearing up. I'm anxious. I'm smiling. I'm reveling in the ability to control my day and my time, and dealing with anxiety over uncertainty. I'm feeling them all, while trying not to hold too tightly to any of them. It's a practice of yoga in everyday life. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-13976669507010485462020-09-15T15:05:00.001-04:002020-09-15T15:05:33.647-04:00Stepping Out of the Box I've Been Putting Myself In <p> Yesterday morning, as I was going through my morning routine - meditation, affirmations, gratitude, journaling, to name part of it - I got to thinking about some areas in my life in which I feel stuck, or don't feel like things are quite lining up. Like I'm missing a piece of the puzzle. And it occurred to me that one of the reasons I feel so constrained is that I've been more or less trying to pigeon hole myself, unintentionally of course. </p><p>I've never been a person that easily fit any type of description - and I get that really, nobody fits neatly in to one particular category. But for me, it's been particularly apparent. Growing up, I didn't fit in with the cool kids, but I wasn't especially uncool (I don't think - maybe I was, who knows). I was an athlete, being a gymnast, but I definitely wasn't part of the "sporty" crowd. I worked hard at school, was focused on education and was in the honors and AP classes, but I wasn't part of the geeky or nerdy kids (again, I don't think?). I wasn't popular but I wasn't particular unpopular. I was a little bit of everything, but not quite enough of any one thing. Really the only group I fit in with was my gymnastics team, and even then, only my specific team, because while we were all pretty talented, we weren't hard core - we practiced a ton and worked hard, but we also took off every time it was someone's birthday to do a group trip to Great Adventure or down the shore or some other shenanigans, and our coach understood this. So all of the weigh-ins and cut throat nature and sacrificing life for gymnastics that you hear about (which honestly appalls me), that wasn't us, and it wasn't me. </p><p>I think that to make up for never fitting in, even to the group of people who didn't fit in, I've always tried to find "my thing, my specific place." As a business(es) owner, I add to that the advice of basically everyone in business everywhere that it's all about super niche, finding your specific hook, honing in on that one thing that makes you stand out. It's easy to get sucked into the idea that if we can't streamline everything into one specific title/description/eleven second elevator pitch, we won't succeed. And, as someone with a Master's in Marketing, I get it. People who hire a professional rarely want a "jack of all trades and master of none". They want someone that's specifically trained at what they're looking for. At the same time, I think that trying to force oneself into on label/group/tagline, either in business or life, can be detrimental. </p><p>One of the reasons I love being an entrepreneur is that I don't like being confined by a job title or position description or company red tape or anything of the like that. And I know I'm a person that has a lot of interests, experiences (life, career, educational), and passions. I'm a person who always likes to be learning, exploring, adventuring, finding something new and different. I know I'm a person whose skills involve deeply connecting with others (even as introvert with social anxiety), understanding and empathizing with others, helping others to connect with themselves. And these aren't attributes that can be neatly fit into one particular job title or position. I know I love the travel planning business. I have found deep meaning in yoga and mindfulness, and bringing this to others. I am a writer who recently published my first novel. I am passionate about mental health advocacy and suicide prevention. Yet I've been trying to pare this all down into the equivalent of a one-line "What am I? What do I do?" In my mind, it looks like one of those fan interaction games that you see on the big screen at a baseball game, where the different colored cars are racing along the track, each one pulling ahead for a time and then falling back, and everyone trying to guess which is going to win out. But human journeys aren't a car race graphics for fan entertainment. It's not "this wins, and everything else fades away". And yet that's the tactic I've been trying to apply to myself as of late. And it's why I'm feeling so stuck, so "not quite right". Because that isn't quite right, at least not for me. </p><p>I love travel planning, I have long time clients that I love working with, and helping others to experience travel makes me come alive. But it hasn't been my full time, storefront business for some time now (and right now it's my no-time business because I'm not booking anything due to COVID). Yoga and integrated wellness (mind, body, spirit) touches me on a deep level, and I am loving exploring where this path is taking me. But I haven't allowed myself to focus on the exploration part, because I've been so focused on trying to quantify it into something that fits nicely into the typical business school business plan. Mental health advocacy and the Spread Hope Project are deeply a part of who I am, but it's unlikely that they'll be a career path in and of their own (thought they do combine nicely with other things I do). And writing, well, I have no goals of being a NY Times Best Selling Author. I write because I love to write and, if it's on my blogs, to share with those who might get something from it. I don't have to choose one thing and eat, sleep, live, breathe it, giving up all else. Quite frankly, that's not me. Confining myself to one set path and staying within the predetermined lines/groups/classifications has never been my thing. And who knows, maybe THAT is my thing. Maybe I'll find some parallel paths, maybe I'll watch interests and passions and skills merge to create something I hadn't imagined, something I couldn't imagine when I was trying so desperately to quantify it and "figure it out right now". </p><p>So for the next little while, I don't know how long, I'm going to allow myself the opportunity to explore. Instead of trying figure out not only "which car is going to win the race" but exactly which path it will take and what exact time it will finish at and every single twist and turn of the race, I'm going to allow myself to be open. I'm also going to start listening to myself, my inner knowing, my intuition more. It's always been extremely strong for me, but I tend to discredit or discount myself. (Note: this NOT a "I'm not listening to facts/stats/science" statement AT ALL). It might be that I come back to an idea or path or plan that I'd previously had. It might be that I discover a different way to move forward. What I do know is that whatever I do, it will be true to me, and I think that this, more than any marketing strategy or business plan or impressive elevator pitch, is actually what I've been missing. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-86257804786177662742020-09-02T10:54:00.003-04:002020-09-02T10:54:38.037-04:00Losing a Sense of Self<p> It's been MONTHS since I wrote.This is actually my first post in 2020 here. I've been writing over at my other website, <a href="http://maya-augelli.com">maya-augelli.com</a> (you should go check it out, there's yoga stuff and more :-). 2020 has been weird and honestly, I felt there were more important messages that needed to be heard than my personal feelings about life with my mood disorder. Not only that, but I'm going to be totally honest here - I felt better under the quarantine/stay at home orders than I have in YEARS! To be clear, I don't like the reason for it. I would never wish a global pandemic, people losing their life and falling seriously ill, people losing jobs and home. But for me, personally, I felt exceptionally well. I realize how incredibly privileged I am to say that, to be perfectly clear. This is in no way a "make the best of this" type of post, because I cannot speak from the point of view of those that went through so much this year (illness, caring for ill loved one, homeschooling, job loss, being an essential worker through this all, being in the hardest hit populations to name a few). I'm also an introvert who loves working from home and got to do so for three months this spring, so I have that advantage. Those months that I was home I felt more like me than I have in ages. So, I didn't really feel that during those months, blogging about how great I was doing when so many were struggling in so many ways, was really the best or most helpful thing to do. </p><p>The last few months, though, have been tricky. I don't mean COVID related, though I do have extreme anxiety watching the complete disregard people have for science and their fellow humans. I've been feeling super not myself lately. By not myself, I don't mean it the way people say "I'm not sick, I just don't really feel myself". I mean that there are times it's tough to recognize myself. And honestly, when I think about it, minus the months I felt exceptionally better during quarantine, this has been building for years. I think about the woman who, at 19, spent a semester studying in Australia, traveling all over Australia and New Zealand on my own, taking 24 hour bus rides by myself, meeting new people, making new friends. I went sky diving and bungee jumping (twice on the latter). Now, I struggle to meet people's eyes to say hello. I am afraid to try a new recipe because "of course I'll mess it up!". And equally as bad, I <i>care</i> that I mess it up. Not like 'that's a bummer" but in a way that I make it mean something about my worth as a human. I feel frozen in making decisions, to take any chances, even the tiniest chances. I think back to the woman who graduated college a semester early, went home and immediate interviewed for and got offered two jobs in my field. The woman who, at 25 years old, was my company's head of National Employee Health and Fitness Day programs for all of the GSK sites in the US (I worked for a Fitness company that contracted there to run their health and fitness center). I think about the woman who started Chimera Travel at 26 years old, got a storefront, made it my own, jumped into running my own business. I did this shortly after graduating with my Master's Degree and simultaneously taking a 2 year correspondence course in travel while working full time. I think about the woman who sat on the board of PAMPI (now MPI PHL) for six years, working my way up to a VP position - and I think about how at my last board retreat our facilitator, who I'd never met, came up to me and said "I hear that everything you touch turns to gold." How I jumped as the President of my ASTA chapter, and immediately was nominated as the Secretary of the National President's Council (literally, at my first meeting as a president). I jumped into every one of these things whole-heartedly, with everything I had, convinced I was going to make an impact. Now, I struggle to decide which produce to pick out at the grocery store because I second guess myself about the simplest things. Now, the fear of failure makes inertia so strong that I'll sit on the couch thinking "I know I should something" (work on my business, get outside, clean the house, a mini adventure, whatever), but it's like my brain enters a cavernous space where I can't even think of what that something is let alone do it. Now, instead of boldly stating "I've decided I'd like to do this" or "I'm going to go for that", I ask permission of 10 different people 10 different ways with phrases like "Well, I mean, I was thinking, maybe if it's OK and not too much trouble, but if not, that's really OK I understand. Do you think that's a good idea?" </p><p>I don't love this version of myself. That's an understatement, to be honest. I hate not recognizing myself. I can see the person I was, in my head. I could even write her in a story most likely. But I can't make that person come to life in actual life. I miss the fun, smiling, woman who wasn't afraid to take chances. I miss the woman who knew what she wanted, and that that she was going to succeed, or who at least had the confidence that she would. I miss the woman who believed in herself, who others believed in so strongly. I miss the woman who could be her quirky, weird, unique but hopefully lovable self, and didn't later spend hours over-analyzing everything I did, anxious that everyone thought badly of me (badly isn't actually the word I'm looking for but I can't think of a better one). </p><p>I also don't love the anger that comes along with this loss of self. It's not always there, not pervasive. But I've noticed it lurking lately. I'm probably going to write another post about anger, because most people dislike addressing it, but I think it's extremely important. Anger masks so many other emotions and feelings, and without digging into it, we just perpetuate the anger, which eventually turns into bitterness and resentment - a place nobody wants to be. For a while, I wasn't sure what I was angry at. And don't get me wrong, there are things "out there" (in the world) that I'm angry about. But recently, I've realized that I'm dealing with a lot of anger and frustration at myself. I'm angry at myself. To be clear, I'm not angry at myself for my illness - it was certainly not something I chose, and I feel I'm trying my hardest to navigate it. I don't entirely know what I'm angry at myself for. But when I break it down, because I know anger in and of itself never last long, it's always masking, I find so much else. Frustration with myself for feeling stuck, for the apathy, for not taking steps I want to. Frustration and a bit of hopelessness at not being able to feel my own worth, at my lack of self esteem and confidence. Even though I know they're the result of a lot, including my illness, I'm frustrated. A feeling of hopelessness that I'll stay stuck in this cycle of perpetually not feeling enough and therefore not going for things or being myself and that leading me to feeling bad about myself. I'm discovering A TON of shame and blame and guilt over decisions of the past, especially regarding my business and storefront and monetary choices. I discover fear and anxiety deeper than I even realized and hurt. I'm finding so much I thought that I processed but never did fully. I know that I need to do that work. As much as I dislike feeling angry, I think it's actually a spark. I think often of the saying (paraphrasing) "Don't worry when I fight with you, it means I still care. Worry when I stop, it means there's nothing left to fight for." It's meant to be about fighting with others, but in my case, I take it about my anger with, or my fight with, myself. If I stopped caring that I wasn't myself, that's when I'd be even more concerned. As long as it bothers me, as long as I'm still willing to fight to get myself back, it means there's hope. So I'm trying to not be angry at myself for feeling angry (we have such negative emotions and stigma around anger, so this is tough), and instead using it as a sign that I need to continue to fight, to work extra hard to figure this out. I think I'm ready to do the work. I think I have to be ready. I need to keep up this fight while it's in me, to keep myself out of the hopelessness and despair that is always a threat living with depression. </p><p>It feels good to write this all out though. I think that's an important step - acknowledging where I am. It also feels really good to be back on this blog. I didn't realize how good until I started writing. This is one of the few places I feel I can nearly fully be myself. I don't have to worry about branding or hashtags or themes or business mission or anything else (and I get that, that's what business is). I can just share how I'm feeling and what I'm experiencing. That's what a personal blog about my life with my illnesses (and my life in general) is about. Thanks for reading my hodgepodge of thoughts. I'm hoping to update this blog more often. I hope you're all doing as well as can be with all that's going on in the world right now. </p>Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-21435804884660339702019-12-03T11:05:00.001-05:002019-12-03T11:05:58.077-05:00Being All-In On My Relationship With Myself<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I know it's been a while since I've written. I've both had a ton going on, and also been feeling stagnant, which seems like it would be counter-intuitive, but I find both happening at the same time.<br />
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I've been slowly building my yoga business. I now teach one Benefit Yoga class each week, a weekly Barre class, and have a private client each week, though that happens to be my mom, so I'm not sure I can count it as actually having gotten my first private client. Still, though, I get to help someone (and bonus, someone I'm close to) through yoga, and watch how yoga helps her with each week that passes, celebrate progress with her, and make headway into my private yoga business.<br />
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Additionally, my novel has been out for about five months now, and despite the fact that I anticipated making about $5 ever on book sale royalties, each month I get some royalties, and I've well passed the $5 mark. I also exhibited at my first book fair in October, which was a great experience, and I even sold a few books.<br />
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But still, I feel stuck. I know, logically, that this year has had a lot of milestones. I've made a lot of progress. But I'm struggling. Depression has been really rough the past few day I've spent a lot of time crying, though I don't especially know why. It hits at random times. Sometimes, it's a particular thought that induces it, but other times it just happens out of nowhere. And when it does, it feels like if only I could drain my body of tears, I'd feel better. Like I've been holding everything in, and it's finally spilling out, despite the fact that I cry numerous times a week, and sometimes, numerous times a day. Despite the fact that I go to therapy and I journal and I talk to trusted friends and loved ones, it feels like still, there's so much in some deep well inside of me that I need to get out. It particularly likes to dwell on every decision from the past twenty years that I now question, everything I wish I'd done differently, every mistake I feel I've made. It likes to live in "if only" land. "If only you hadn't done such and such..." "If only you had chosen xyz". Most of all, it likes to tell me that I be where I wanted if I'd only done things differently, and that therefore my unhappiness is all my fault. To be clear, I don't think my illness is my fault. But rather, my brain tells that the circumstances that I am unhappy about are.<br />
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And in some way, it's right. I made the choices I made. I took the actions I took. I made the decisions I made, many of which were gut-wrenchingly difficult, but I made them none the less. Or in some cases, they were made for me, and I chose how to respond to them, what to do in the aftermath. I also know that I tend to chase the dream, to be a "dive in the deep end and hope you know how to swim" type of person, and that once I have made that decision, I'm all in. I don't do anything - work, business, education/training, friendships, relationships, hobbies, passion projects, or anything else, half-assed. I'm all in, or all out. At the same time, I know that I often act, or don't act as the case may be, out of fear - fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of upsetting someone else, impostor syndrome (aka fear that I don't actually know what I'm doing and will be a found out), fear that I'm incapable, fear that everything negative anyone has ever said about me will be proven true. All of this combined - the blame, the judgement, the questioning myself, the fear - often leads me to feel like I can't trust myself, that I can't believe in myself.<br />
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And this, I believe, is what's at the core of everything for me. This is what my depression and anxiety (which, to clarify, I do NOT have a choice about because they are genetic illnesses) cling to. They hold tight to this lack of belief in myself, this lack of self-worth, this fact that I tie my worthiness, my enough-ness to external things like a job or having enough money, or relationships (of all types) or what others will think/say/etc about me, and they pull with all their might. They tell me on one hand that if I take this big leap, if I make these big changes, that I'll fail/be rejected/history will repeat itself. And then when I say "ok, so I'll wait a bit before doing that", they tell me that I'll never accomplish anything because I'm too afraid and don't go for it, that I'm not trying hard enough, that I'm lazy, that it's my fault I'm stagnating. They tell me to trust myself and when I do they tell me I'm doing it wrong, I'm incapable, I'm not enough. They get me in this catch-22, this tug of war where I feel frozen.<br />
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But so I have finally come to realize that my biggest goal right now, the thing I *do* need to be all in on, is not a particular career/job, not even to be successful at running my own business, it's not something specific within my external relationships, whatever type of relationships they are (family, friends, marriage, etc), though I certainly have these goals as well. My all-in goal is in my relationship to myself. To understand that my worth, my being enough, has nothing to do with anything outside of me, but instead, that I am enough and worthy exactly as I am. And that's not to say there aren't things I want to improve, because there certainly are. I love learning, I love working on my own growth, I love being open to new information and new experiences. And it doesn't mean that I don't compromise or adjust at times for people and circumstances in my life. It simply means my worthiness as a person, my enough-ness, is not intrinsically tied to them.<br />
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I want to be honest, I'm not a quite there yet in terms of believing this. I know it, logically, and on my good days, I can see it. But on my many tougher days, I'm not there. I understand it, I believe it for other people, but I can't truly believe it for myself. So I'm working on it. I've recently joined a group coaching community called <a href="https://programs.karaloewentheil.com/the-clutch/">The Clutch</a>, and one of the tools that I've learned there are ladder thoughts - thoughts that help you get to the thought you actually want to have. They're not flashy, exciting thoughts. They're steps (aka rungs on a ladder) that help you step away from "I'm incapable, I'm not worthy, I'm not enough" and help you on your way toward "I am worthy and enough exactly as I am". So instead of trying to convince myself that I'm enough and worthy right now, when it feels like some sort of fairy tale that I'm telling myself but can't believe, I tell myself "It is possible that I am worthy and enough exactly as I am". Or I tell myself "It is possible that I have everything within me that I need to create the life I want". Or "It is possible that my worthiness is not connected to anything external". These allow me to dip my toe into the idea that maybe I am more worthy than I give myself credit for, without requiring that I magically jump from one end of the spectrum to the other. And this is especially helpful on days when depression and anxiety are in full gear, because on those days, it feels absolutely impossible that I could be enough and worthy exactly as I am, and trying to think this feels futile in those moments. It only makes me feel worse about myself, that I can't see it. So I practice these in between thoughts, that feel more possible, that give me hope, even in the darkest moments, that I might get there. And I realize that this might not seem like I'm all-in in this relationship with myself, but I am. Because I finally realize, really realize, not just logically know, that this is they key piece, that no matter what else I do in my life, no matter what else I accomplish, if I do not feel worthy or enough to myself, I will always feel like I'm missing something.<br />
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I know this is a long post, and a bit rambling. But I wanted to write it for three reasons - 1.) In case you, too, struggle with these types of thoughts, I want you to know, as always, that you are not alone, and that I understand and am here. 2.) Because part of this process is being really honest with myself, and sometimes I find it most effective to write it here - ,putting it in writing makes it feel really real, and while painful, helps me to move through it and with it, so that I don't get mired down in it. 3.) When I was thinking this morning, as I was crying ugly tears into my morning coffee, thinking about who I am deep down, what I'm really passionate about, and where I feel I've made any impact at all in my life, I thought about this blog, and the mood disorders group I started on Facebook. I thought about how so many people, often times people I had no idea where struggling, have reached out and told me how reading my posts, or being able to share in the group, has helped them. It reminded me that I do make an impact, that I do have something I'm able to offer the world, and that I do help people. And it made me realize that I've been away from this blog for too long, and that this is one of the things in my life that I'm truly passionate about, and so I wanted to share this here.<br />
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Thank you for reading this incredibly long post. As always, my messages, inbox, text, etc are always open if you need to reach out. Much love to you all. </div>
Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-46969915688211056872019-10-10T12:06:00.002-04:002019-10-10T12:06:44.750-04:00Wanting To Feel Enough<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today is World Mental Health Day, and I'm going to be totally honest - I didn't have a blog post planned. Not because I don't want to write for WMHD - of course I do. But because I wasn't really sure what I wanted to write, and from what angle. Ultimately, I was inspired by some thought work and self-development work I've been doing, and I decided to write about me - it's my blog after all, and one of the things I'm working on is not letting myself be defined by the "shoulds" (mine or others'). Like, what I "should" write about for World Mental Health Day.<br />
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As you probably know from reading this blog/my social media/having any conversations with me ever, I'm really into self-development, self-discovery, and personal growth, in basically every form I can get. I do yoga. I meditate. I journal. I read personal development books. I listen to podcasts. I go to therapy - which I do both for my illness and learning how to work with/understand it, and for my personal growth that may in some ways be related to my illness and may in other ways just be related to me as a not-perfect human being, as none of us are. There are plenty other avenues for personal development and growth. These are just my (current) preferred methods, though it's likely that therapy, yoga (I'm a yoga instructor), and journaling (I'm a writer) are among my go-tos for the long haul.<br />
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I say all this because I've been really delving deep into some particular development work, and I've noticed that almost every area that I want to work on comes back to one theme - wanting to be enough, and not feeling that I am. The thing is, depression and anxiety lie. All the time. Depression likes to tell you that you're nothing, that you're not capable, that you aren't worthy. It tells you that you aren't as skilled or successful as others, or that even when you do feel successful that it's not real/just lucky/short lived. It gives you all the "yeah but"s you can imagine. "Yeah, you have a Master's degree, but you're not really using it as you could be." "Yeah you ran your own business for years but you had financial help and you didn't get where you hoped". "Yeah you accomplished xyz, but others accomplished that AND abc." "Yeah you did this thing that makes you feel successful but here are all the reasons it doesn't count". Anxiety likes to play a similar game. It tells you that you'll fail/get rejected/embarrass yourself. It tells you that you can't/won't be able to handle something. It tells you that ridiculous things that you logically know aren't true but it tries to convince you of anyway -that people are just being nice and don't really like you. That you're only being invited to stuff/included because people don't know how to get it out of it or feel bad. That that you really didn't do a great job on that thing you actually did a great job on. That any minute the other shoe is going to drop, and that everything that's been going well won't be. Anxiety analyzes every conversation/text/tweet/post, everything you wear/say/do, trying to find a way to convince you that they're somehow going to have some negative consequence, that there's something wrong with it and you. And ultimately, what all of these things that depression and anxiety boil down to, at least for me, is this one fundamental whopper of a lie that's horrendously convincing to the emotional part of my brain: That I'm not enough. And I'm learning through this work that I'm doing, and through (many years) of therapy, that this thought influences virtually every aspect of my life.<br />
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Every time I don't go after something I want to, it's because secretly, I think I'm not enough. That I'll fail or get rejected and it'll be proven that I'm not enough (aka imposter syndrome). Virtually every behavioral habit or pattern that I don't really like but can't make myself break is because I feel like I'm not enough. I'm not good enough to break that pattern or habit. OR, that pattern or habit makes me momentarily feel better, which momentarily masks the terrible feeling of not being enough. Every time I don't set boundaries it's because I feel I'm not deserving enough of whatever respect I'm asking for. Every time I go against my nature, try to change myself for someone else <i>(note: not compromising/adjusting, I mean trying to change my authentic self at the core)</i>, it's because I don't feel like I'm enough and therefore somehow they must be right and I must have to change to be enough. Every time I don't stand up for what I believe in, or allow myself to be guilted/shamed/etc into something -either by my own brain or someone else- or allow that guilt/shame to sink in and make me feel badly about myself, it's because I don't feel like I'm enough. <br />
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And quite honestly, I've had enough of not feeling enough. I want to change this fundamental lie that my brain tells me, because I can see the domino effect that will happen if I can just manage to understand this one thing. I see all the areas of my life, including relationships with those I interact with, that can be positively impacted if I can come to truly believe, to truly understand, that I am enough. It's a journey that I'm beginning to embark on with this fresh vision, with this knowledge of exactly how much impact this lie of not being enough has on me, and it's a journey I'm both excited and scared about (because, you know, anxiety). And to be super clear here, all the self-development in the world won't get rid of my depression or anxiety. Mine are lifelong - I have a genetic condition I was born with and will always have. I can't think my way out of my mental illness (cyclothymia, in my case) no more than I can yoga or smile or kale-eat my way out of them - which is to say, I can't. But if I can learn to recognize the patterns, recognize that it's depression and anxiety and not really the core of me, recognize the lies they tell me as lies, I can work with them, at least some of time, And knowing how to work with my brain, instead of simply always battling against it, could go a long way.<br />
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I'm not writing this post because I want anyone to feel bad about how I feel. I'm DEFINITELY not writing this post for unsolicited advice<i> (note: this goes for anything that anyone writes about ever, unless they say "I'd like some advice", in which case, it's not unsolicited)</i>. I'm writing it because: 1.) It's been in my head, and I think it's important to put it "out there", so to speak. It takes it from being something I technically, logically know in my brain, to being something that I'm willing and able to "speak" out loud, and that goes a long way, at least for me, in taking the next steps to address it. 2.) Surely, I'm not the only one out there that feels this way, but it can often feel like it. So if you, too, deal with this, I want you to know that you're not alone, that I get it, and that I'm here to listen if you need to talk/vent/discuss/connect about it, or if you just need someone to say "I get you". 3.) People have a wide variety of ideas about what mental health and mental illness look like. And yes, sometimes it does look like bouts of crying on the bathroom floor, or severe worry over something that appears minor to the observer, or some other more well-known symptoms of depression or anxiety (or other illness). But sometimes, it's not as obvious. Sometimes it looks like a multiple business owner, newly certified yoga instructor, recently published author, who's traveled to six continents, sat on multiple boards of directors for years, and has the support of family/friends/loved ones, but who internally continues to think/feel that they're never enough.<br />
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Please understand that you don't always understand what's going on under the surface. Even with someone like me who's extremely open about... well, almost everything, but in particular my mental health struggles and my illness, there's so much that you don't know. I share a good amount, but there's still plenty that I keep internalized. There's still so much that I haven't yet processed or even discovered about myself. While I can't speak for anyone else, I personally am an open book. I am happy to answer questions, to discuss, to share (note: STILL not OK with unsolicited advice). Don't judge or assume. And understand that underneath all of it, at the core, is someone simply wanting to be enough.<br />
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Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-34182760402725438952019-09-17T12:33:00.001-04:002019-09-17T12:33:37.128-04:00My Theme Words As I Step Into My 40th Year<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As you undoubtedly know by now, because I've been posting about it regularly on every platform for approximately the last month, I'll be turning 40 in less than a week. I've been reading quite a bit about choosing theme words for the year, and while I know this feels like something traditionally done at New Year, entering into a new decade of my life seemed like as good a time as any to think about where I want to focus for the upcoming year. Plus, setting these focuses in September allows me to take the New Year, if I choose to use it as a marker like so many do, to assess where I am, and to make any adjustments I feel I want or need. Some people choose one theme word, but life right now (and always) seems so multi-dimensional, and I've got numerous areas in which I'm working to grow and refocus, that I thought I'd pick four. Turns out, I ended up choosing five (listed/described below in no particular order except the one in which they came into my head, which we all know is generally haphazard). Also, I didn't stick to a certain word type (noun, verb, etc). I simply chose what felt appropriate.<br />
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1.<b> Intentional. </b>The number of times I find myself checking my social media, getting distracted by something unimportant, letting my mind become a runaway train into the land of "what if" and negative thoughts and so much else, without even realizing it, is a bit startling. I'll suddenly pause and realize my actions/tasks/thoughts are far from where I planned them to be. So many times on the drive to work or walking my dog, I don't recall how I got there. To clarify, I'm not sleep-driving or sleep-dog walking. I'm simply not noticing. Yes, I'm noticing the cars moving or stopping in front of me, I'm noticing my dog stop and sit at the corner and making sure it's clear before we cross. I'm noticing enough to be safe, but I'm not sinking into it. It could be a beautiful morning, sun rising over my neighborhood, flowers blooming, gentle breeze, birds chirping while I'm walking my dog, and I'm going over something in my head or planning my to do list or revisiting an argument or disagreement I had with someone from last week or stressing out over something I can do nothing about at 5:30AM while walking my dog. So my goal is to be more intentional. In my actions, in my thoughts, in my interactions with people, in my being present in the world around me. Social media checking is fine (and beneficial to my business, even). But I don't want to look up from twitter or IG or FB 30 minutes later and not even recall why I went onto the app in the first place. And I DEFINITELY don't want to be doing this while in the presence of friends, family, etc, who are actually there with me, being ignored while I absentmindedly scroll.<br />
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2. <b>Growth.</b> This year is a growth year for me in numerous ways. I'm growing my yoga business. I'm growing in the writing community, having just self-published my first novel. I'm also focusing on growing personally in numerous ways. I'm working on finding my voice and using it where appropriate (but not to drown out others). I'm working on recognizing dependent and codependent tendencies (revisited shortly here), and adjusting course. I'm learning how to work through parts of growth that can be difficult, triggering, painful. I'm working at recognizing my own faults and missteps and mistakes, and taking accountability, while learning NOT to take accountability and responsibility for other peoples thoughts, words, or actions,which are the responsibility of them, not me (in other words, I'm accountable for me, you're accountable for you).<br />
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3. <b>Non-dependence. </b>I'm not sure this is actually a word, either with or without the hyphen. Originally, I had this as independence, but that doesn't really explain what I'm aiming for. I already have a pretty independent spirit. I am generally not a conformist, I don't do things because they're "cool" or everyone else is doing them. I'm not easily swayed in my opinions or beliefs (other than about myself, and I'm working on that). But, as I mentioned above, codependency (i.e. supporting negative patterns with others by trying to 'make everything better', basically) and dependency (believing I'm not good enough/worthy/capable/don't know enough/others know better and therefore stepping aside and letting others take control, make decisions, etc) are both issues I've struggled with for years. So I'm focusing on NOT being those things. On learning those patterns and habits and how I get caught in them, and breaking those cycles. Hence, non-dependence. And to be clear, this doesn't mean I never accept help. We all have strengths and areas we're not as strong. I'm not going to refuse to let someone taller than me get something off of a high shelf when I can't reach because I "don't want to depend on anyone." We should all have people we can rely and depend upon when needed. It's about not doing so at the detriment to myself and others.<br />
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4. <b>Reconnecting. </b>Connecting is also my <a href="https://maya-augelli.com/blog/2019/9/3/september-theme-connecting">monthly theme</a> for my yoga and wellness business, and you can read about that in my blog post discussing why I chose it. But basically, I've become disconnected. My introverted and social anxious nature lends itself to disconnecting from others. Depression doesn't help when it tells me that people don't really want to be around me, that I'm a burden, that people don't actually like me and that they're just including me or talking to me to be nice. So I'm working on reconnecting with others, and also, examining those connections. Are all the people I've been connected to still the people that I should be connected to? Am I hanging on to situations, people, that I don't need to, that aren't serving me (or them)? Am I staying around in groups, organizations, etc just because they're familiar? So I'm doing some re-examining. I'm also working on reconnecting with myself. Knowing who I truly am, deep down. Focusing on my core values, my personality type, my beliefs, my path and goals and dreams, my innate self, and getting back to that person. I'm working on not allowing fear or worry or others' opinions or values change that (or at least trying not to, as best as I can). I'm learning to be me again. And finally, I'm working on reconnecting with the world around me, especially in nature, through being present. Connecting to the earth, grounding.<br />
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5. <b>Letting go</b>. This was a late add, but I realized how important it was. I have held onto SO much. Guilt, shame, self-blame, self-loathing, regret, negative beliefs about myself, fears, that do not serve me. They often aren't even based in reality, in facts, they're stories I tell myself. And I can't ever move forward, ever grow, if I can't let these pieces go.<br />
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And so, as I cross the threshold from my 30s to my 40s, these are the theme words I'll be stepping into. These are the areas in which I plan to focus. They are not, of course, the only things I'll focus on, but they will help to guide me when I feel lost or confused or am questioning myself in my decisions and path. They'll help me to guide myself, both when I come to important crossroads, as well as while I move through every day life.<br />
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Thanks for taking this wild ride of life with me. Here's to 40 more years!<br />
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Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-10316221293049510912019-07-23T10:27:00.004-04:002019-07-23T10:27:56.797-04:00As I Enter The Last Two Months of My 30s<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Exactly two months from today, I turn 40. I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I'm not exactly where I pictured myself at 40. To be honest, that picture has changed numerous times over the years, so it's a little tough to say where I thought I'd be, but there are definitely some things I pictured that haven't yet happened, and some things I didn't picture happening that have. I'm not saying it's all bad by any means. This isn't a dismal "whoa is me I'm almost 40 and my life is half way over" type of post at all. I'm also by no means saying that life happened to me. But for my illnesses (genetic), I know that I made choices that directly or indirectly affected where I am today.<br />
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39 was a pretty eventful year. I started and graduated from yoga teacher training and became a certified yoga instructor. I started my new yoga business and got my first private yoga client (OK it's a family member but still, baby steps) and have a corporate benefit client in the works. I taught my first few studio classes. I self-published my first novel! And I got my first royalty check within a month, and though I'm not doing it for the money, seeing your name on a royalty check for your novel is pretty cool. On the mental health advocacy front, I was interviewed on a podcast, published on several patient advocacy sites, and made new connections with several patient organizations. Like I said, eventful year. Lots of cool stuff happening.<br />
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I also started doing a lot of self-discovery work in an effort to reconnect with myself and remember who I am, because it's been honestly years since I really did an aggressive deep dive head on. I have spent years taking on other people's definitions of me, never asking myself if they were true. I always assumed everyone knew better than me (and when I think about it, assuming others always know you better than you know you is actually kind of ridiculous, since you're the only person in world that's actually lived all of your life, inside and out. But it happens to a lot of people, me included). The work has been really revealing - as in personally revealing, not as in wardrobe malfunction revealing - and I've had to take a lot of accountability for my own part in a lot of my own shit. Which, I'll admit is still a work in progress, but it's now more because I'm working on trying to recognize when it starts to occur and redirect course, as opposed to not realizing what's occurring or not wanting to see it. But I'm making a progress, and as difficult as it is to look at oneself and be completely honest about your role in the pieces you don't love, it's also oddly hopeful to know that I have a part in it, because it generally means that I can do something about it.<br />
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"What at all does this have to do with your impending birthday?", you might wonder. When I turned 39, I made a list of things I wanted to do throughout the last year in my 30s. And it's a great list. It has served me well. Some I accomplished, like graduating yoga teacher training and self-publishing my novel. Some, I did not (I haven't gone hiking in one state let alone five, which saddens me because I really love hiking and nature, but again, I had a part in choosing other activities). Some of the goals became things I'm no longer really striving for, at least not at this time, because life and growth and change happen. And as I come down to the last two months of my 30th decade on this planet, I'm looking at the list realizing that 100% of these goals are external - do this, become this, go there, get that certification. And while that doesn't make them bad - some were super meaningful in fact - none of them were about how I wanted to live my life in the long term. None of them were about me, intrinsically, and who I want to be, now and in the future. So I thought that as I approach these last two months in which I'm able to say that I'm in my 30s, I'd work on a new list. This is the list I hope caries me into the next decade of life feeling more connected with myself, more sure of who I am, and more confident in where I'm going. It's a list that focuses on some of the internal changes I've been delving into, and that I plan to continue to work on.<br />
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<li><b>Living intentionally. </b>This is a biggie for me. Honestly, I think it's a biggie for many of us. The number of times I check social media, look at my phone, eat a snack out of boredom, fill my head with 100 things instead of noticing what's going on around me in the moment, is startling. I know this because I've begun actively paying attention. I'll notice myself on twitter or Facebook or wherever and think, "Wait, why did I sign on again?" And it's fine if to intentionally sign on because I want to check in on what people are doing. But it's not OK with me that I go there by automation without realizing it. Same with my phone. Same with not paying attention to actual life happening. I could be walking my dog on a gorgeous sunny morning, and even living in the city I can hear the birds chirping, and my dog can be happily walking along and enjoying the moment with a big smile on her face, and I'm running through a list of 100 "to do" items in my head. And then I later bemoan the fact that I "I haven't had the chance to get outside all day", because I wasn't being intentional and present during the time that I was, in fact, outside. </li>
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<li><b>Owning my own shit. </b>Or taking accountability. Or keeping your side of the street clean. Or whatever other description you want to give it. Basically, this means acknowledging my own part in things, whether it's overt (I actively said/did something I know I shouldn't have) or subconsciously (letting others' beliefs/criticisms about me define me, instead of questioning if they're true - see next bullet). </li>
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<li><b>Not owning other people's shit </b>or taking responsibility/blame for keeping their side of the street clean. What I said above, but in the reverse. I have a really bad habit of trying to fix everything for everyone, often at the expense of myself, my values, my core, remembering who I am. In it's extreme, this is called codependency, and it's not a healthy or happy way to live, for anyone involved. To clarify it's not that we shouldn't do nice things for each other or be decent human beings. We 1000% should be thoughtful and considerate of others, be good people. But we cannot<i> make </i>other people happy. Nor can we change others. And thank goodness, because I wouldn't want to put my happiness/life direction solely in someone else's hands with zero control. Nor would I want that control over someone else. </li>
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<li><b>Stop questioning my intuition, and for that matter, stop fighting my innate personality</b>. Let me psychology/self-help nerd out for a moment here. According to the Myer's Briggs personality assessment (and life experience/knowledge of myself) I'm an INFJ - Introvert. iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging. This means: I get my energy from time alone/one-on-one meaningful time with people I'm close to (Introversion). I "just know' things instinctively instead of gathering all the evidence/data/details and then figuring it out based on that (iNtuitive). I make decisions with my heart (Feeling). I need a plan and can't live life five minutes in front of my face (Judging). INFJs are 1% of the population if that, the least common personality type. So I am not like a lot of other people. But that's ok. None of this is wrong. It's who I am. We are born with our personality type. It's innate. It's "how I'm made" for lack of a better phrase. I need to stop spending my life trying to prove to everyone that just because it's different it isn't wrong, and just start being me. It can't waste all my energy trying to defend who I am. Yes, life always requires us to adjust, make accommodations, meet people in the middle, etc. But we also need to honor ourselves and meet ourselves where we are. We are way more effective, happier, are more enjoyable to be around, and overall more at ease in the world if we work with who we are, instead of rallying against it. </li>
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<li><b>Remember that the negative "what ifs" aren't the only what ifs.</b> This is part a mindset thing, part an anxiety and depression thing. It also goes along with the "trying to make everyone happy" above. My brain is super good at saying things like, "Yo lady, what if you fail catastrophically? What if you make a mess of things/embarrass yourself/make a major decision that causes financial chaos for you and those in your life" etc. And these could be possibilities. Extreme and relatively unlikely ones, but possibilities nonetheless. Unfortunately, my brain rarely plays the positive what if game. "Yo lady, what if this is exactly the right path for you? What if you're super successful and everyone's proud of you and more importantly you're proud of yourself? What if you prove all the doubters wrong? What if you go with that intuition that's so strong, and you do what you know is the right decision and it turns out great?" My brain doesn't like this game. Lifelong illness won't allow my brain to totally get off the negative what if train, because depression and anxiety love to be a**holes that convince you that you're crap. But I *can* work on the mindset piece, the part where I let everyone else tell me what's best for me, where I believe the doubters and critics, where I don't trust my own intuition and self, where I allow myself to <i>only</i> look at the negative what ifs as if they're fact, instead of a hypothetical.</li>
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<li><b>Stop asking so much permission.</b> Note: this doesn't mean not communicating/making unilateral decisions when they affect others. I'm not going to two buy tickets for a concert and then tell a friend they're going with me and owe me $100 for the ticket. Communication is just common courtesy and quite honestly a necessity for basically any type of positive relationship between two humans. But I ask permission to the point where I don't make decisions without someone else's approval/OK, even if it doesn't affect them. Which thinking about it, strikes me as especially absurd because iNtuitiveness is my strength. I often KNOW the right decision. I just need to trust myself. </li>
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<li><b>Live the heck out of life, and offer something to others in the process</b>. Yes, I know the bills need to be paid and the house cleaned and I need food in the fridge and laundry done and all that. But I often say that I want to live the my life according to what I want my eulogy to read. And I don't want the highlights to be my clean house or how much time I spent at the office or the grocery store or the <i>things</i> I have. I want to have made a difference in people's lives, to have made their lives better, and for them to have positive, lasting memories with and of me. Nor do I want to spend my last days with regrets of "if only I had". I want to experience as much as I can, while acknowledging that sometimes, my health requires a step back so that I can do so again in the future. </li>
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So happy last two months of my 30s to me! I'm looking forward to what the next couple of months, and for that matter, the next decade. </div>
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Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-12992122858664182082019-06-25T15:29:00.002-04:002019-06-25T15:29:59.088-04:00Life Updates and Thoughts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi readers. It's been a while. Apologies. The last month or several have been busy. I thought I'd give a life update, and also a bit of what's been going on in my brain. First, the life update. I graduated from Yoga Teacher training on May 19th and registered with Yoga Alliance, so I'm now officially an RYT-200 Yoga Teacher. Woo hoo! I've also been working on my yoga business pretty diligently. I am on the sub list for one studio and working toward being on the sub list for another. I'm teaching two community yoga classes at <a href="https://www.grantbuildingnj.com/">The Grant Building</a> in Collingswood, NJ, one on July 6th, the other August 3rd, but 12:30-1:30PM. They are donation based classes, so pay what you wish, and the proceeds go to <a href="http://twistoutcancer.org/">Twist Out Cancer.</a> I have a some other things in the works that aren't at the stage where I'm able to really promote yet, but hopefully soon.<br />
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In addition, my novel went to the self-publisher, I just received the first copies of the soft-cover version in the mail. So that's super exciting! Tentative release date is July 16th, but I'll keep everyone posted.<br />
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I have been working on my self-branded business, super creatively named Maya Augelli, LLC (that's not the DBA, I'm working on those, it's the LLC name), and I have a website for that as well. You can check out all I'm doing yoga/wellness/book/writing wise, and more, <a href="https://maya-augelli.com/">here</a>.<br />
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So, on the business front, things are going well. I feel I have goals I'm working towards daily, and it's helping me feel like I'm regaining some sense of control over the course of my life and I'm not floundering around waiting for a lifeline.<br />
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Personally, I've been working a lot on my inner strength and belief in myself. As is probably obvious by now to anyone who reads this regularly, low self-esteem, lack of belief in myself, and low self-worth have been my companions for close to the last 25 years now. They've become gradually lower, due to numerous factors including my illness and life stuff. I'm working on changing this. But it's brought up some questions that I'm grappling with. I'll note that while these aren't rhetorical questions, I'm not actually expecting anyone to answer them. I'm simply laying them out there because, well, this is my blog and they're in my brain and I figure others might have dealt with similar questions themselves.<br />
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1. How do you differentiate between finding your voice/setting necessary boundaries/standing up for what you believe in, and selfishness/self-centeredness? It seems like this should be obvious, but when you think about it, often, it's about perspective. If I strongly believe something should be one way and I'm standing up for it, and you strongly believe the opposite and are standing up to it, who gives? And is the person who doesn't give good at setting boundaries and saying "I won't let myself be pushed into going against what I believe", or are they being selfish because they are putting their needs/values first? I'm working at recognize those areas where maybe I am sticking to my guns unnecessarily, and those where I need to actually stand up for myself and set boundaries more.<br />
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2. How do you differentiate between letting fear hold you back and making excuses, and being smartly cautious. For instance, when I first started Chimera, I chose the "not letting fear hold me back" route. I decided to dive head first into my business and just go for it. I knew I could make excuses all day - How would I make enough money? What if I failed? I wasn't good enough. Etc Etc. But I was luckily in a position that, with help from family, I was able to make this leap. I don't regret for a second starting my business. I learned so much, and building up that business and the storefront were some of the happiest times of my adult life. But I did learn that sometimes the ocean that looks nice and calm has an unexpected undertow. I also know, though, that my fear strategy is self-sabotage. Which means I become my own worst enemy, my own worst critic, and I constantly find 'reasons" that I shouldn't take that leap. Often, I'm over here worrying about the dangerous undertow (i.e. something catastrophic happening) when reality is like, "Um, it's a 12-inch high kiddie pool". Where is that sweet spot of "I'm not jumping in without enough of a plan, but I'm also not waiting until everything is perfectly set because nothing is ever perfect"?<br />
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3. How do I take accountability for my own actions, while not also always taking unnecessary blame/fault? I'm struggling with this, because I'm really big on personal accountability. I know my faults, my weaknesses, my points that I need to work on - 20 years of therapy will do that for a person. But I also know what's NOT a fault - things like a difference of opinion, a different approach to something, a preference. So where is the line for saying "Yes, this piece is something I have to work on. But that piece over there, that's not a fault, that's just a difference/something others might not understand/something someone may not prefer about me"? It's a delicate balance between not taking enough accountability, and taking accountability for others' stuff, or for stuff that doesn't require accountability from anyone.<br />
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So that's what's going on in my life and brain right now. I'll try to be more consistent about writing. In the mean time, I have been updating my yoga website and blog, so if you're inclined, go check that out. As always, thanks for reading! </div>
Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-69096999450115645972019-04-02T10:32:00.000-04:002019-04-02T10:32:05.822-04:00Crumbling and Disappearing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I haven't written in a while. I've been going through a lot. January and February were horrible brain wise. My illness grabbed hold, and tossed me, flung me, emotionally beat me until I was literally praying for some, any, reprieve from it. Then March hit, and the horrible emotional grip started to ease. The majority of my March was amazing. I felt positive, energized, I had hope. Most of all, I began to feel like I was reclaiming a bit of the me that I've lost for years now. I was finally, finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. <br />
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In March, I began working on my personal branding website for all of my various services and skills, to be premiered once I (fingers crossed) graduate from yoga teacher training. The editing on my book was finished, and I started moving into the next stages. I was working on more travel clients than I have in a while. I actually felt like I was capable in building what I want to build. Like I might really regain autonomy over my day to day again. I began to feel more independent again. I actually found myself occasionally making decisions and suggestions instead of just going with "whatever everyone else thinks" for fear of causing an issue. I found myself standing up for what I need, what I know is best for me, what I believe in for my life, even if I was only defending my cause to myself most of the time. I started making small changes each and every day. I also worked on reconnecting with my faith, which has been a lifelong process in which I've generally failed miserably, and I felt like I was getting somewhere. In addition to yoga and meditation and writing and my other self-work, this was helping me get through things when I did feel alone and hopeless at times.<br />
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And then, March started coming to a close. And the proverbial ceiling caved in. My emotional life came crashing down on me. I woke up one morning and all of that calm and piece and quiet self-worth I'd finally thought I was finding was gone. I don't know why, but it was. In it's place was sadness deeper than I've ever known, hurt, emotional pain, hopelessness, and yes, I'll admit it - anger, resentment, and bitterness, driven by the aforementioned. I say that because a note here: actual anger as a reaction doesn't last long at all naturally. I forget the stat, but it's something like after two minutes, if you're still angry, it's because it's masking another emotion like fear, pain, hurt, sadness, etc. Few people will admit this because it's easier to point fingers than take a deep dive into our own pain, but I'm a master at deep diving into my pain, so I'll own my anger. I woke up feeling like I was again a rat in a maze that didn't actually have an exit. Like a puppet in a show, being yanked around. Hope was gone, which is particularly devastating for someone who runs the Spread Hope Project. All the things I thought I could do, they felt like silly dreams. Like a little kid dreaming of being an astronaut, like a girl dressing up in her mom's heels and makeup and pretending to be an adult, instead of a grown adult who believes in themselves and dreams that they can actually accomplish.<br />
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I don't know what happened. Not entirely at least. I know, of course, that I have a mood cycling disorder that involves depression and anxiety, and that it can hit without a moment's notice. But I also know that it doesn't usually cycle in months. It's normally hours, days, a week at the most. I also know that part of what hit me is that you can't single-handedly change situations in your life that involve others, and that my trying to do so finally crashed in on me, and it felt like I'd been beating my head against a wall. If this doesn't make sense, here's an example: Say you work in a place where negativity and gossip is rampant, and you easily pick up on other people's energy. You can go in and be positive and cheerful all you want. But if you have to interact with other people who are negative and gossping all the time, and they don't change, you still work in a toxic environment. And yes, people will say "well you could change that by getting a new job." But sometimes it's not that easy. and besides, the job is just a random example that I chose. Sometimes, it's not a situation you can just change like you can a job. Sometimes, it's a whole bunch of things at once. You can't suddenly just be out of debt (unless you win the lottery), or make people believe in you and support you (emotionally not financially). You can't make friends suddenly have tons of time for you. You can't suddenly get tons of clients and build your own business so it's super profitable (no matter what those courses they sell try to tell you.. it doens't turn around like that). You can work your ass off every damn day, you can be the best person you can be, you can be willing to throw yourself in front of a speeding truck for people, and you still can't affect what anyone or anything else in the situation does. Sometimes there are pieces of life you cannot control, and when you're trying to change your life and things just. won't budge it's physically, mentally, and emotionally painful and exhausted. <br />
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Lately, I feel like I'm mentally, emotionally, and physically crumbling. It feels like each time I move pieces of me fall off. There are physical effects. I've had headaches and been nauseous a ton. I've oddly been losing sensation in my extremities frequently, and I'm not sure if it's related but that's super annoying/scary. I'm exhausted all the time. I am in constant physical pain. I don't even mention my physical pain really because I don't recall what it's like to not be in physical pain. And every single morning that I wake up it feels like there's a ton of bricks sitting on my heart. I spend probably at least an hour a day crying, often more. I'm getting to the point where I struggle to hide it. I know I am not living the life for me, and yet I feel like I'm tangled up in it, unable to make any changes. I feel so frozen in my life that I literally am afraid to do the tiniest things - like cook a meal or choose something to eat. <br />
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I feel like I just want to fade away, like some special effects in a movie where I become more and more transparent until eventually I'm just not there. Sometimes, I feel like disappearing quickly. Most days I feel like making drastic, massive changes in my life because I can't stand the crushing ache of pain every day anymore. But any way I slice it, this version of me, this crumbling, hurt, scared, frozen version of me that feels like a caged animal is not sustainable.<br />
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That's where I am right now. I know it's not super uplifting, but I wanted to give a life update. If you want to support me, please reach out. In person, not on a Facebook comment. Not with a "virtual hug" (please, please no virtual hugs, I can't explain but I'm practically begging you not to say this). But actually reach out. And please no cliches please. I can't handle it. It won't end well. I'm broken. You wouldn't give someone with a heart attack a cliche, so don't give me one either. Just be there to listen. Not one and done, not a perfunctory check in, but actually be there for me. As much as I need, as long as I need. I have a lifelong illness. I need people in my life who are prepared to be there for me through life as well. <br />
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Thank you for listening. </div>
Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-38481407580549208842019-01-31T09:21:00.003-05:002019-11-20T14:21:53.627-05:00I Believe In You<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I believe in you. Whoever you are. Whatever your dreams. I'm serious. I might not even know you personally. I might not know your plans or goals or dreams. But I believe in the human potential. In every human. It doesn't mean they always live up to it (I can think of plenty of examples in which people took their potential and used it in really harmful ways, or squandered it all together). But the potential is there.<br />
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Why am I telling you, potentially a total stranger, that I believe in you? Because from time to time, we all need to hear it. We especially need to hear it if you, like me, have ever shared your dreams with someone or someones, and been told that you aren't capable, you're unrealistic, you don't have the education or training or qualifications, that you'll never make it happen. Or put another way, that they didn't believe in you. And if like me, you've ever struggled with self-confidence or self-esteem or self-worth or feeling like you're not enough, if like me you've ever battled depression and anxiety that magnifies these feelings, you know that this can feel like someone physically tearing you apart. It can feel like they reached into your chest cavity, grabbed ahold of your heart, and ripped it out. Maybe for you it wasn't that extreme. For me it is. Because to me, one of the most amazing things you can have in this world, in the darkest moments, the moments when you struggle so hard to believe things will work out, is hope. And telling you that you can't accomplish your dreams can tear this hope, potentially the only thing keeping you going at times, to shreds. And yes, when this happens to me, is it on me a bit that I rely so heavily on others' opinions? Absolutely. I'm working on that daily. I'm putting huge effort towards self-love and appreciation, self-worth and self-esteem. But when you already feel like you're not good enough, and others basically tell you you're right, it's pretty natural that it'll affect you seriously, at least temporarily, perhaps longer.<br />
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Now naturally, there are going to be things we're not qualified to do. I'm not qualified to perform surgery because I haven't gone to medical school. So if I were to say, "I think I'm going to get a job as a surgeon", the response of "you don't have the education and qualification for that" is legit. But if I said, "I think I want to go to medical school because my dream has always been to become a surgeon" and someone replies "At you're age? Come on, that's so unrealistic. You'll never make that happen!" that's where the dream killing happens. And the thing is, they may be right. I am 39 years old. If my dream was to go to medical school, I'd probably be in my 50s when I finished (I'm eyeballing this, not calculating the actual years so excuse any inaccuracies), and it's probably pretty tricky to get accepted to medical school at 39, then interneship, residency, get hired for the first time as a surgeon in ones 50s. But telling me right off the bat I'll never be able to do it? It might be unlikely. It might be improbable. But I likely already know this, so shutting down my dreams in one stroke and saying you don't believe in me literally serves no purpose. There are ways to voice the struggles, to help someone be realistic, without telling them <i>you can't</i>. For instance, "This could be really tricky. It could be tough to get into medical school at that age, and it'll be a long road, but if you really want this, let's talk about what the next steps could be." Or maybe you help them "troubleshoot": "Well, you'd need this qualification to get into school, so maybe start by taking pre-requesites somewhere local. Also, it's going to cost a lot, so let's talk about how you're going to be able to support yourself while doing this." There are numerous other ways to approach it. But flat out: <i>you can't make that happen</i> is just a hurtful one. And if you're anything like me, it's probably one you're already telling yourself. So what does someone telling you this actually accomplish, besides making you feel worse about yourself? <br />
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So I'm here to tell you I believe in you. I don't care how silly or weird or out there your dream is, how unlikely it is or how much effort it'll take, because if you really want it that badly, you'll put in the effort. <i>(Caveat: I can't support you in something I think is illegal/unethical/immoral because that would be going against my core values, and we should never ask someone to compromise their core beliefs and values. But I'm going to assume here you aren't asking me to support you doing something immoral, so with that exception, I believe in you.)</i> If your dream is to dress up in a chicken costume and dance around and make viral videos and get sponsors to make money, go for it. Hell, that sounds fun and I might even join you. If your dream is to travel the world, to restart your career, to start your own business. If your dream is invent something new, to run away to the mountains and build a retreat, to go back to school and get a new degree/certification/training. I believe in you. If your dream is to find a way quit your 9-5 so you can stay at home with your kids, I believe in you. If your dream is to write a book, I believe in you. <br />
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And if you ever need someone to bounce idea off, or someone just to listen, or someone just to remind you that someone believes in you, I'm here. Because there way too many people in this world that'll tell us we can't do something. So I'm here to tell you that you can. <i> </i></div>
Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-60999033892077135652018-12-26T09:01:00.003-05:002018-12-26T09:01:57.574-05:00Simplifying, Letting Go, & Spreading Hope in 2019<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't set new year's resolutions. I've written about why before, but basically, resolutions tend to be all or nothing. "I'm going to lose 10 lbs". What if you lose 9.5? Technically, you've failed in your resolution. But you've lost 9.5 lbs through hard work and dedication - no failure about that. See where I'm going? Instead, I set goals and focuses. Yes, there are concrete items I'd like to accomplish in there that I create plans for (resolutions don't generally involve plans, which is another reason I don't set them). But my real point is, I am more focused on patterns, on ways of being, and changes I'd like to make in those ways of being to improve overall quality of life.<br />
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For 2019, I'm focusing on Simplifying, Letting go, and Spreading Hope. If you'll notice, two of the three are related (I'd argue that all are, but two are more obvious) - they're about less. Getting rid of or shedding. And to me, if I'm able to do that, I'm more able to focus on the third, which if you've known me for any length of time and have paid any attention to what I've been doing over the past two years, should ring a bell.<br />
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Why have I chosen these? Well, life in general and my brain, are messy. With a rapid cycling mood disorder, there's literally no telling what's going on in there at times. I could have had the best day of my life, go to bed, and wake up in horrible depression. Then, I could rapidly cycle into hypomania by the end of the day. I'll be anxious through the entirety of it because everything seems unstable and uncertain, and I do about as well with uncertainty as I would handle being chased by a rabid dinosaur. <i> Note: I have had people tell me, when I say this about uncertainty, that I should never have kids. I'd like to point out that 1.) That's a shitty thing to tell someone 2.) I have, in my past, had a young child in my life, and done just fine. 3.) If you repeat this "wisdom", YOU will fare about as well as if you were chased by a rabid dinosaur. </i>Just putting that out there. But I digress.<br />
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My point is there are certain types of uncertainty that I'd like to pare down in my life, in order to improve my mental and physical health, and to get me on the path to where I'm quite sure I need to be going. Furthermore, I have a habit of throwing myself into everything 1000%, trying to be everything to everyone, even when time and again, it feels incredibly one-sided or I feel that my efforts aren't respected/valued the way they should be (i.e. the number of times I've been passed over for things I worked my ass of for and feel I deserved is rather alarming). I've cluttered my life, hanging onto each and everyone of these situations, often for years. I've also hung on to all of the ideas, all of the ways of doing things, all of the criticisms and "ways I should improve myself", impressed upon me by other people over the years. All the ways I "should" live. All the views I "should" have. All the ways I should be more like everyone else says I should be, and deny who I am. I have hung onto all this stuff. And it's suffocating me, and it's time to get out from under it. <br />
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<b>So, Simplifying</b>:<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>I'm simplifying my things. I don't need fancy stuff. I don't need that necklace I haven't worn in two years because part of it broke off and I keep saying I'll somehow figure out how to put it back together, or that purse with three zippers missing that I'm so sure I'll somehow find a use for anyway. I don't need those jeans from five years ago that I haven't been able to fit in for the last two. I don't need that book that was required reading for a CEC course five years ago that I haven't looked at since. I do not need them Sam I Am. So, I'm simplifying my things. Ill donate what I can. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li> Simplifying my routines and habits. This involves things like making a budget and sticking to it. Meal planning and prepping and sticking to it (also helps budget, so bonus). Making plans and sticking to them as best as possible (i.e. no constant last minute decisions/changes/etc). I need to try to eat around the same time, go to bed and wake up around the same time. My therapist has consistently told me my life needs routines and plans I can rely on, and that the lack of this is detrimental to my mental health. The more I can rely on in my outer world, the easier it is to handle when my inner world changes unexpectedly, which is often. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Simplifying my space. I've read time and again that your physical outer space is a representation of your inner mental space. This makes sense. When your thoughts and emotions and brain feel all jumbled, it can be tough to keep a nice orderly home/desk/office/closet/etc. Similarly, when your house looks like a mad scientist is using it as their lab, it can be really tough to organize your thoughts, and it often feels like the walls, or your things, are closing in on you, and that's anxiety inducing. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HhdfWMCfSsb3M2FO-QKp63lj2_46W4rPy4JLbbVEl73j6Ip4kpUjXBEWJH1a6n0IXmzONNs74McB01KMffcrq7oI-BrWBYa3aa0OlUM1XCIWqJfqADKSvNUI422ITl1SZPXxLASitfg/s1600/lucy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="415" data-original-width="550" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HhdfWMCfSsb3M2FO-QKp63lj2_46W4rPy4JLbbVEl73j6Ip4kpUjXBEWJH1a6n0IXmzONNs74McB01KMffcrq7oI-BrWBYa3aa0OlUM1XCIWqJfqADKSvNUI422ITl1SZPXxLASitfg/s400/lucy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Letting Go:</b><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>I need to let go of pieces of my life I've held on to for too long. Whether it's organizations that I was involved in that no longer serve me, or friendships that now feel totally one-sided, or anything else that used to maybe be a big piece of my life that no longer is (like the fact that I had to sell my storefront building four or so years ago). This doesn't mean big friend breakups or loudly denouncing organizations for which I previously gave so much, or anything like that. But I can't spend my life chasing ghosts. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>I need work on letting go of all of the stories I've told myself about how I'm not worthy, I'm not enough, I'm a failure. Depression and anxiety are assholes that lie to me daily, so I know that sometimes, I'm going to feel this way and there's not a ton to do about it but whether the storm. But not letting it be my defining story any longer is key. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>I need to let go of all the untrue stories I've been told by other people. Those stories that tell me I'm wrong, I'm inferior, I'm lazy, I'm selfish, my ways are wrong, my views are wrong, I'm not capable, that my illness is attention-seeking. To those stories that others have told me that degrade me, berate me, make me feel bad about myself, that aim to make me feel ashamed or guilty for who I am or how I'm made, that tell me I'll be good enough if only I'd change like this or that. Every one of those stories needs to go, because these do nothing but reinforce the untrue stories I already tell myself, which only depletes my self worth and self confidence further, and that massively affects my mental health. This doesn't mean I can't learn and grow, because as humans, we're almost all continually doing so. I love learning new things and having new experiences. I'm an open person, and I love expanding my horizons. But negative words and name calling that offer no actual helpful insight, no solution, no new opportunities or experiences simply don't serve me. They serve one purpose and one purpose only - to put the other person down. And I'm good enough at doing that to myself. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>I need to let go of everyone else's idea of success. I heard something on a podcast the other day that I've heard in numerous forms before, but the way it was put succinctly drives home the point: "The richest wo/man in the graveyard is still dead." Success doesn't have to mean having a 9-5 that makes x amount of money (hell, it doesn't mean having a 9-5 at all). It doesn't mean having x car in the driveway or y size house. It doesn't mean having fancy china or designer clothes. It doesn't mean having abc qualifications or xyz degrees or titles. The person running around like a chicken with their head cut off isn't any more successful simply because they're "too busy". For too long, I've let other people's opinions of success make me feel unsuccessful. To long I've let them hold me back. It's fine for them if those are other people's measurements of their own success. But they are not mine. </li>
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<br /><ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Letting go of grudges and wrongs. One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from the Dalai Lama, "Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intention of throwing it at someone else. You're the one that gets burned." Note: Letting go of grudging and forgiveness doesn't mean the person's actions were acceptable. It doesn't always mean reconciliation. Nor does it mean they've apologized and asked for forgiveness. They never may, but waiting for that gives them control over you, and I refuse to allow that. Forgiveness is something you do for you, so that you can stop feeling burned and move forward. You stop holding that hot coal that hurts you more than anyone else. That's what I'm aiming to do. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Letting go of how things should be. I'm going to write more on this later, but I, like many people, tend to have strong ideals of how things should be. I have visions/ideals in my head how things are going to go, and I get super disappointed when things don't turn out like those visions. I'm working on tempering that. <i>Note: this does NOT mean that I just do whatever everyone else wants and abandon my own hopes/goals/dreams/ways of life. But it does mean I'm open to new experiences that don't require me to give up me totally but maybe bring in new opportunities as well. </i></li>
</ul>
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<b>Spreading Hope </b><br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>If you're unfamiliar, I founded the <a href="http://www.spreadhopeproject.com/" target="_blank">Spread Hope Project</a>. My goal in 2019 is to bring the theme of hope into even the tiniest pieces of my life. Hope doesn't mean kittens with rainbows coming out of their butts - or at least it doesn't have to. Hope means that despite everything we have to go through daily, we still see that all is not lost. We see that there is a way out, a way forward, a way through, even if we don't see exactly what that way is. We see that there's the chance of things getting better. I recently talked to someone very wise (who happens to be related to me) who said that when you have a word that means so much to you, like hope does to me, it informs everything you do - from the way you run your business/org, to the way you cook, dress, communicate. This has honestly opened my eyes so much. I love personal challenges, and this challenge to basically bring hope into every aspect of my life is one that I am wholeheartedly embracing. It's given me a lot of clarity. </li>
</ul>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>You can learn more about Spread Hope Project on the website (linked above), <a href="http://instagram.com/spreadhopeproject" target="_blank">Instagram</a>, or <a href="http://facebook.com/spreadhopeproject">Facebook.</a> </li>
</ul>
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Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6603883426306376921.post-81325747646696031022018-11-20T08:47:00.002-05:002018-11-20T08:47:51.359-05:00My Experience of Attempting To Not Complain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As part of my yoga teacher training, we had an assignment to practice Ahimsa. If you're unfamiliar with ahimsa, more or less, it's non-harming or non-violence. Now if you know anything about me, the vegetarian who literally can't harm a fly, balls my eyes out at SPCA commercials <i>(damn you Sarah McLaughlin and your perfectly depressing songs</i>), and who apologizes to inanimate objects for bumping into them, you're probably thinking, "Yeah violence isn't really your strong suit, so I think you're good." But something I'm becoming increasingly aware of is this: harming comes in many forms, and it doesn't always hit you over the head - literally or figuratively.<br />
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For this Ahimsa practice, the general idea was that we had to pick an action, or more likely pattern of behavior, that could be harmful to others, and to work on addressing this. Partly because I'm quite excellent at finding fault with myself, and partly because I'm a human being and most of us are far from perfect, I actually had a good number of these to choose from. Ultimately, what I chose was to (attempt to) stop complaining to other people. <i>(Notable exception: I didn't count my therapist ... maybe I should have, not really sure on that one. I feel like that's a fine line.)</i> <br />
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The reason I chose this challenge? Complaining is one of those things that seems to sneak into our repertoire, often under the radar. Unless we're actively going to lodge a complaint (calling a company about bad customer service, speaking to HR at work about an issue), we generally don't go around in our daily lives with the purpose of complaining. And because we don't go around intentionally complaining, because it slowly slips its way into our actions, we often don't realize we're doing it. But those around us do. And it can be super draining on them. If you've ever had a friend or family member who, every single time you ask how their day was, launches into a list of why it was so stressful or boring or frustrating, you probably know what I'm talking about. After a while, you don't see the point in even asking. We all have enough stressors going on in our life, in the world, and especially when it's the same thing day after day, we don't need the added negativity. And unfortunately, I realized I was <i>becoming</i> (or some might argue already being) that person. And I don't like that. Not at all. So this, I decided, would be my challenge. <br />
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Admittedly this doesn't seem like it should be all that tough. Just. don't. complain. Right? It isn't as easy as it sounds, and it's actually been a pretty enlightening experience thus far (enlightening in the lay person sense, not in the yogic 'enlightenment' sense.) I actually have been learning quite a bit throughout this practice, and I thought some of it worth sharing.<br />
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1. I learned that I complain a lot. A lot more than I even thought I did. It's amazing, when you start to pay attention, when you start to be more present to your words and actions, what you discover about yourself.<br />
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2. When you are opting to pay more attention to complaining, it means you're paying more attention to complaining... all of it. Including that of others.Which means that you may increasingly notice how much others complain, and that could have an impact on you. <br />
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3. My complaining isn't always intentional. This isn't an excuse, just an observation. It's so easy to get caught up in the, "This traffic sucks. It's so cold out. Work was so (insert adjective) today...". It's especially difficult when part of a group. (See point 4)<br />
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4. As a socially anxious introvert, I dislike small talk. But unfortunately, it tends to be a part of almost daily life. It's often tough for me to (not super awkwardly) join in conversations. So I realized sometimes, I was participating in complaining just to be part of the conversation. Because sadly, I've learned that when everyone is hell bent on complaining about something (the weather, traffic, whatever) and you smile and pipe in with a positive comment instead, you've somehow committed a greater social faux pas than if you'd walked into the room, farted loudly, and left.<br />
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5. Not every negative statement is a complaint. There's a thin line, at times, between complaining, discussing, and confiding. This was a really tough one for me. I'm not good with gray areas or blurry lines, so I tend to categorize things in absolutes - right/wrong, good/bad, positive/negative. I noticed when I actively started trying not to complain, that I was basically putting a nice "I'm fine" gloss on everything. But this isn't ideal, because sometimes things aren't fine, and they need to be discussed. Whether it's because you're legitimately not feeling well and need to let someone know, or an issue that comes up between people, sometimes, difficult/not overly positive conversations need to be had. That's different than complaining. It serves a specific purpose. <br />
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I have found that when the above question is murky, journaling/writing down my thoughts helps. If writing about the issue "gets it out of my system", then it was probably just complaining - i.e. I needed to vent about something, I did so to my journal, and now I'm good. But if I notice that it's a consistent pattern, there may be more to it. And to clarify, by consistent pattern, I don't mean "Every day the traffic on 95 at rush hour is terrible" kind of a pattern. I mean that if you notice that you're repeatedly writing that a specific friend is saying things that hurt you, or day after day you're feeling depressed or anxious about a specific situation, then it's probably something that needs to be addressed or discussed.<br />
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I have also found that turning the complaint inward - i.e. running it over and over in your head just so you don't have to say it out loud to someone and "be complaining" - doesn't help. It might help the other person in the short term, but eventually, it's going to build up for you. It'll weigh heavily on you, and in the long run, it'll probably affect them too (because none of us live in a bubble, and peole can often tell when something's wrong even if we aren't saying it). So by all means, write it down, discuss it with your therapist (as applicable), do what you have to do to vent it out. But then, if it's not something that really warrants further addressing, let it go. Because I do get that sometimes, complaining feels good. But in all honesty, I've found that letting shit go feels a lot better. </div>
Maya Northen Augellihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02469306092296810650noreply@blogger.com4