Beautiful Olive

Tag: stress

  • Do You Know What a Loser Is?

    This past Friday, I was prepared to shut down the blog. The internet was full of sadness over the passing of The Queen of Mommy Blogging, The OG Mom Blogger, Dooce. I pored over the tributes and read some of her best posts. I loved her take and will miss her beautiful words. As I took in the commentary from around the planet, I thought “It sounds like blogging is mostly dead. I think there are other platforms like Tik Tok and Instagram and a whole host of others that I know nothing about that must be the platforms of today. I missed the boat and have nothing new to add to these new-fangled ways of communicating. People don’t want to read blogs. They want visual content and it needs to be in 1-2 minute increments.”

    So I decided I would bury Beautiful Olive. Why pay for the website hosting, the Constant Contact subscription, and the domain name rights when it was just sitting out in the internet world languishing with no new content? When blogging was old-school and a thing of yesterday?

    Have you ever tried to cancel an auto-renew subscription? Well, the business-savvy peeps of the world are business-savvy for a reason. And they have figured out that if they make it really hard to cancel an auto-renew subscription, 92% of people won’t cancel it. You can buy almost anything online, without talking to a single person, with a single mouse click. But if you want to cancel something, you have to CALL someone and TALK to someone first. No amount of mouse clicks will get you there. This is why, two days later, I have not yet canceled Beautiful Olive or any of the internet extras that accompany her. I would have to make phone calls and talk to people and I am an introvert. We don’t play that way. We do not like to talk to strangers whose goals are exactly opposite ours.

    So, the blog is still here because it was too much of a pain to cancel it. And, then I woke up today and I decided to write. So, there you go.

    “Do you know what a loser is? A real loser is somebody who is so afraid of not winning they don’t even try.”

    Grandpa, “Little Miss Sunshine”

    It’s Mother’s Day and my typical MO celebration has been to do whatever I want with wild abandon. Mimosas and blueberry muffins for breakfast. Naps. Reading. A dinner fit for a queen, complete with dessert. And wine. Plenty of wine. Sometime after becoming a mom, I declared it the day of indulgence and I always indulged.

    But, some things happened to me over this past week (which I will tell you about in a minute) and all week when my husband or sons would ask what I wanted to do for Mother’s Day this year, I would answer “I don’t know. Not much. I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to have mimosas or blueberry muffins or a bottle of wine or naps. I know that’s what I don’t want. I’ll get back to you…”

    I’ve been on a collision course for the past year with my bad choices and habits. I weigh more than I should or ever have, I drink entirely too much alcohol, I don’t get the exercise I need and my ability to deal with life’s stressors is out of whack. The real struggle is in the knowledge of these things on the one hand and doing nothing about them on the other hand. The cognitive dissonance takes our anxiety to an even higher level and then we are even more unhappy with ourselves. It’s a vicious cycle. Because we are thoughtful, intelligent beings, we really should be able to figure this out. But, we can’t. So, we are losers.

    I’ve had the “Why do I KNOW what I need to do, but do the opposite?” conversation with myself so many times over the past year I’ve lost count. And every time I have had that conversation, I would follow up with “And, are you ready to do something about it?” And every time, the answer was a resounding “Nope. Tomorrow. Come back tomorrow and ask again. Maybe the answer will be different.” And I would stroll off with my glass of wine.

    About a week ago, I had the same conversation, but the answer was different. You can tell when it’s different. It feels like it rises up from your core and is straight-up bellicose. Everything starts to align and suddenly you’re just ready. You holler back at the old self who answered “Nope” every time. “Hey. Old Self. New Me is taking over. We don’t need your help anymore. We got this. Bye-bye.”

    I don’t know what flipped the switch. All I know is that I’ve been praying for it to flip for the past year and I knew I would know when it did. I was glad it flipped on Sunday because I had an appointment for a routine physical on Tuesday. “Whew!” I thought. “This is great! I dodged that bullet! Thanks, Me!” But, apparently, two days of changed habits is not enough lead time for your lab values to be whipped into shape and my doctor called me on Wednesday to tell me that I might need to go on some medication to combat some concerning findings. 😲

    Truth be told, my inactivity, my diet, my relationship with alcohol (that is a really dumb term) was really getting wildly out of control. I think it was pretty dark at times. And when it’s dark, we peer out of the hole and look around at everybody else to see how they’re doing. And when everybody else seems to be doing just fine, we clamp the shell down even tighter, don’t we? But the inner turmoil is still there beneath the surface. Somehow, we can’t figure out how to just do what we know we need to do. We are losers.

    Well, when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. The switch will flip. The inner turmoil will work its way to the surface and demand a decision about who wins. I woke up this Mother’s Day and I RODE A BIKE for 30 minutes. I drank water and fasted until 2 p.m. I’m writing, not napping. At dinner, I’m going with CAULIFLOWER MASH instead of POTATO MASH. I e-mailed my physician and asked for a 6-month reprieve, medication-free, to get my sh*t in order. And I’ll gladly pay out of pocket to get new labs drawn in 6 months so I can prove that my switch has indeed flipped.

    Will I feel as sure tomorrow or the next day or the next as I do today? I don’t know. This isn’t my first rodeo. We are all a work in progress, all of the time. Today, I woke up and I felt like writing. I felt like riding a bike instead of drinking a mimosa. I felt like eating an orange instead of a blueberry muffin. And I felt like being a better mom to my boys, which means some of my dark, crap habits have to take a back seat. So many of us are fighting crazy fierce battles. We get really good at hiding them from the world. Keep the conversation going with yourself. Let her answer “Nope” as long as she needs to. When the timing is right, she will suddenly answer “Yes” and you will know. And you will always be a winner in my book.

    Happy Mother’s Day, my beautiful friends. You are nothing short of fabulous today and every day.

  • Go Get All That You’re After!

    It’s Sunday. We need fuel for the week ahead. Let’s arm ourselves.

    The Four Stages of Creativity

    Stage 1: The Problem

    Last Thursday, I was told that something that was supposed to be approved/done/operating by this point in time, was now going to take another few months. I was counting on this particular thing to come through. It has the potential to grow my business more quickly and get us into a more stable position. Less worry=happy owner. But, it’s just not going to happen right now. It’s almost completely out of my control, aside from writing a few letters to my state representatives. The Calvary is not coming. They’re busy. It is time to pivot (I am really hating this word).

    When I am delivered a dagger such as this, the feelings are overwhelming. Me, talking to me: What am I going to do??? I was really counting on that coming through and it would have made such a difference. Think. Think. You’ve got to come up with something different. Why does this have to be so hard? There’s got to be another answer, another option, another way to do this. Think. Think. You’ve got to keep fighting, keep clawing, keep climbing. Think. Think. You’re smart. You’ve done this before. You just have to find the right answer. Think. Think. Think! Why aren’t the answers coming??

    All the time I’m having this conversation inside my head, I’m still going through the motions of the day because the day doesn’t stop. I can’t just sit and stare at the wall. People need me to do what I do, no matter the banter inside my skull. So I carry around this urgent, scary matter. It’s not productive, but I carry it because it’s urgent and scary and somebody has got to fix this problem. It’s like a ball and chain around the ankle. I can move all about, I’m not shackled in place, but the damn thing is stuck to me and it goes everywhere I go and it’s ugly and heavy. Stage 1. The Problem.

    Stage 2: LaLa Land

    At some point, my brain becomes tired of carrying this mental anguish around and decides that there has got to be a break. I cut off the ball and chain. I tell it “I know you’re not going away. You’re going to be back here Monday morning. That’s fine. But I need to not think about you right now. I need a break. I need to feel normal and believe that everything is fine.” Then, I spend time doing things that make me feel like there is zero problem. Time with friends, family, a book, a tv show. Something that takes my mind away to a better place. Stage 2. LaLa Land.

    Stage 3: The Creative Process

    LaLa Land typically lasts 12-24 hours. You can’t disengage for much longer than that or there will be even bigger problems than the original problem. Gradually, I start to come back into the mainstream. I take control of some things that can actually be controlled like my schedule, my environment, my thoughts. Grab anything that can be controlled and corral it. For me, it was a cleaning frenzy.

    In the midst of my cleaning, I let my problem edge back into the forefront. Lenny Kravitz, who is just the best there is, was singing to me through all my chores. Creative ways to approach my crisis began to randomly pop into my head. The thoughts were jumbled at first. But, I just kept doing what I was doing – controlling what I can control, in this case, cleaning the bedroom – and just letting the thoughts flow. I was feeling more optimistic and more in control. As ideas were taking on a more concrete form, Lenny belted out “Go get all that you’re after.” Hmmm.

    Go get all that you’re after. Inspiration and energy were creeping in. I was starting to see new ways of looking at my problem. And there was Lenny telling me what to do. I grabbed my husband and we went to lunch. We spent two hours hashing through the ideas that were forming and devising plans for carrying them out. I was operating on all of the cylinders and I felt so in control. It was a great day and the world was deliriously full of promise because I now had a laundry list of solutions. I was ready to fix everything. Stage 3. The Creative Process.

    Then, I woke up the next day…

    Stage 4: The Creative Process Hangover

    This is where you have to be really, really aware. You will wake up the next day and you will question everything you told yourself the day before at the height of your creative inspiration. You will doubt every one of your ideas. You will look them over and think “These might be good ideas, but it’s going to take too much energy to carry them out. I’m not bold enough or brave enough or skilled enough. I don’t know enough. I’m not the right person. I need to slow down a minute and think about this. This might get UNCOMFORTABLE.” Stage 4. The Creative Process Hangover.

    Listen up. NO, YOU DON’T NEED TO SLOW DOWN. DO NOT SLOW DOWN. Do you remember how energetic, how alive, and how inspired you were yesterday when you were in the midst of all those ideas? Remember how good it felt to crack open novel solutions that you knew were the right answer for YOU? THAT is who you are! That is YOU! You are NOT the timid, questioning, cautious, scared person that you think you are. You are brave, bold, and daring and your soul knows it. That’s why it gave you all of that content in Stage 3. That’s why your heart beat the most perfect rhythm, your smile hogged all the facial real estate and your energy was infectious to all who were around you in that creative element. That’s your best you. It just is.

    I don’t know why we can’t live in Stage 3 all of the time, but we don’t get to ask those questions. As near as I can tell, this is the process. Maybe the desperation of an “unsolvable” problem followed by the subsequent LaLa Land escape have to happen first so we can enter this creative nirvana? Problems are not solved when we stick too close to the problem. We have to get off the highway and roam around for a while. Find something else to do. Go bury ourselves in something we CAN control. Pretty soon, the answers will come. When they start to take shape, we have to relish the feeling of empowerment, courage, optimism, and energy. We have to ride that wave for as long as we can. We have to squeeze as many ideas as we can out of that moment. Let it go on for as long as it must! Document, document, document. Journal, Tik-Tok, paper napkin, sketches – put those ideas any and everywhere, but put them down! We will need the evidence tomorrow, I promise you. Stage 4 has never NOT appeared on the heels of Stage 3. I hate her.

    You must expect the creative process hangover. It’s real. Every time I go through one of these really intense dreaming/planning sessions where the ideas and possibilities explode, I have to beware the next day. I wake up and I doubt all those great ideas. I get caught up in the logistics. I get stuck in the “Yes, but…” and I disbelieve that I am the one that has the authority to carry out these dreams of mine. It’s good to ask some questions, but please don’t doubt what your soul told you in those really fruitful moments. The reason you felt so alive and so proud and so full of enthusiasm was that these solutions were true for you. You gifted them to you! They are genuine – use them!

    As I get older, I realize the importance of documenting everything I come up with when I am in Stage 3. Every idea, no matter how wild. We need that hard evidence. We lose our memories as we get older and we won’t remember every one of the great ideas. Only figments. And figments aren’t enough to fend off Stage 4. When Stage 4 comes around you need to gather all of your evidence, your hard-fought ideas, your sketches, your videos, your notes and shove them right into Stage 4’s eyeballs. Fight back. Don’t believe the negativity that Stage 4 feeds you. It is not true. It is not you. You have to go get all that you’re after. You wrote all the good stuff down in notes to yourself, yesterday. That is the truth. Reference it as often as needed. 💪👊

    Have a glorious week, ladies. Go get all that you’re after! XOXO

  • Under The Bridge

    I once heard a man give this advice: When I come home at the end of the day, I visualize myself hanging up the work day’s stresses on a tree outside my door. I know I can pick them up the next morning on my way out. This way, I can come inside to my family and be present, knowing I left my worries outside.

    I liked the concept, so I tried to practice this. The way he described it, I pictured him walking up his curved brick sidewalk, draping the problems on his Japanese Maple and then breezing through his red front door. Carefree, of course, because he left his problems on the maple! Duh!

    I hit a few snags while trying to make this work, First, this guy assumes a distinct transition between work and home. Before Japanese maple, work. After Japanese maple, home. Line drawn. Done!

    My drive home is more like this:

    Text one son about haircut while walking to the car; think about first patient tomorrow; ask myself why my car keeps making that clunky noise when I start it; add paper towels to the grocery list; outline email to dental equipment rep in my head; stare at the Christmas decorations while I’m idling at the light; think about how we should gussy up the office for the holidays and that we should play Christmas music over the next week; make mental note to find non-annoying 8-hour Christmas playlist by tomorrow morning; wonder about the decisions I made today; wonder what decisions I’ll have to make tomorrow; think about whether I should ride the bike, play with the dog, make dinner, order dinner or even what IS for dinner? Ladies, even our thoughts multi-task.

    So, that’s the first problem. That guy’s line between work and home is a tree that greets him every evening like clockwork. Same place, every day. The line between my work and my home is a hurricane spaghetti model at best. And if it’s a spaghetti model, when/where am I supposed to hang the day’s worries?

    The second problem is, I enter my house through my garage (I actually park in the driveway, not the garage, but that’s another story). We do have a tree out there by the driveway, but it’s an ugly pear tree and I don’t really like it. It seems ill-suited for this task. As I walk through the garage there are PLENTY of places I could hang my next-day-worries, not unlike many of your garages I’m sure. But, once I fling my problems into that garage, good luck finding them again! Those problems will disappear into the garage abyss just like my favorite folding chair, the basketball airer-upper, 27 flashlights, 18 Phillips-head screwdrivers and my cute little mini shovel that I have needed and can never find every single May since 2002.

    What to do? Where am I going to hang these worries for at least a few hours or days at a time?

    I recently started my own business. Last week was slow, which generates stress, anxiety, and a general sense of impending doom. You know how it is: “This isn’t going to work and we’re going to lose everything and live under a bridge!” (Because thoughts like this are super-helpful and productive. That’s exactly why we have them. Duh.) I worked throughout the week tweaking marketing plans, changing my outreach approach, reviewing my advertising and social media outlets. Pretty soon it was Friday afternoon. By that point, the people I needed to market to were long gone, out of their offices and home with their families. I needed to leave it for Monday and go home to my family. But that stupid voice kept prattling away about losing everything and living under the bridge, making my head hurt and my stomach upset. My body felt so heavy. I knew it was time to go home and do the weekend but I was trying to figure out how to do the weekend with this anxiety in the background.

    Then I had a thought (thank you, good part of my brain, where have you been anyway?). I walked into the house and told my husband “I’ll be with you very soon. I need about 15 minutes to put some things on paper and prepare for Monday so that my weekend is all about being here, with all of you, and not about work or the bridge we might have to move to.” I grabbed one of my favorite journal books, poured a glass of wine, slapped on the noise-canceling headphones, and began to write. I made a list of 10 things I would do on Monday that would work to move my business forward. Some tasks were small, some were larger, some were scary. Also, I added this to the list: Every time I have a negative/anxious/worried thought this weekend I will immediately refocus back to the present moment and what I have to be thankful for right now. Even if it’s as simple as my dinner plate or the fact that I have fingers and toes.

    Guess what? It helped! It wasn’t perfect. My anxious part of my brain is frequently running ahead of the rest of the pack so the thoughts would slam in out of nowhere and interrupt a perfectly fine moment. But I got better at refocusing on being thankful for whatever I could find – one time it was an avocado. I had a good weekend and Monday morning, I picked up the plan and I went to work.

    This list gave me permission to relax and spend time with my family knowing that I had a plan for those worries come Monday. It’s not as idyllic as a Japanese Maple along a curved path to the door, but the wine helps! I think I’ll do the same this afternoon. Maybe it will even become a Friday afternoon ritual.

    We have to learn to put our thoughts down every once in a while and pick them up later. Our brains do their best work during these breaks and often give us the solutions we are seeking. You need peace this weekend. Find an avenue for that in any way you can because you need a break. Monday will be here soon enough and the list of tasks will be waiting for us and we will be ready to take them on, even if we have to go bridge-shopping! Xoxo