What’s On My List?
Today was Trauma Therapy Tuesday and I shared my realization about the discussion I'm having internally, somatically every night (yesterday's post). I was explaining that adding the 1b) option that reminds me that I'm always allowed to rest, the idea that I need to have accomplished enough to rest is the wrong idea!
My therapist agreed this was interesting, and that calling myself on the wrong thinking of needing to earn my rest is good. Then she blew my mind by asking me, "Is sleep on your list?"
My jaw dropped for a moment, totally giving away the fact that it wasn't even remotely near my list of things I need to do each day.
She's suggested that my list needs to start with sleeping, resting well, then feeding myself, then meditation. Those things always on the list first, and only meditation if I'm feeling like I'm rested and it will do me well. She asked if these were on the list, especially the first two.
"What's first on your list?", she asked.
"Feeding CK. Then feeding the creatures." I also conceded that this has caused many meals where I don't actually have my main dish. I've been so focused on every other living being eating, that I forget myself.
I'm to work on my list.
Insomnia and Me
Every night I have 2 discussions with my Trauma Brain:
1a) I have completed enough tasks that I'm "allowed" to sleep.
1b) I'm always allowed to rest, 1a is wrong.
2) Sleeping is safe.
Yoga helps lots, I mediate or do some kind of physical practice. Often both.
Hot showers, just got out of one. Water is very helpful to me.
For many years I want aware of my fear of sleeping. Like many emotional states, I experienced the fear somatically. So much of my trauma is before cognitive integration was available to my brain, so I just don't feel right.
These days of pandemic and protests against police violence have made it harder to convince my body that I'm safe. When I feel less safe, my critical self spends a great deal of time telling me to go do the dishes, clean the floors, deal with the blackberries, catch up on email, finish the taxes, make a budget, defrost the freezer.....
And that's just taking a few seconds to transcribe my inner list of things I must do before resting, playing, creating art, etc.
Never Enough
My core false brief about myself is that I'm not only worthless, but I'm proudly toxic to be exposed to for prolonged times. Through this same Childhood Logic, if I work hard enough, and I get enough tasks done each day, I'll be able to buffer people from my toxic nature and they'll stay.
When I read the phrase, "hustling for your worthiness", in one of Brené Brown's books, I recognized it immediately. It's the logic above.
I've watched this brief kill someone I loved. It nearly hospitalized me while alienating CK.
I'm doing better with out overall, but this weekend has been hard. I'm feeling guilty for not doing more.
I pretty much always n feel guilty for not doing more.
Bertie got into something that made him sneeze explosively for several minutes. He was rather worn out when it finally wore off. He knicked his gums a little, but that stopped bleeding quickly.
Anger Turned Inward
Today I taught my second Yoga of Freedom online classes and it went very well. I focused on there later John Lewis legacy and the moral obligation to speak up, to stand up.
For the rest of the day I was in a gray depression feeling like I'd done nothing right.
It isn't true. My art page for today even captures things I did in addition to teaching a difficult class. It's just how I feel.
In reality I'm angry about Federal cops in Portland. I'm angry about my racist family, not that there's anything to do about it besides process it. I'm angry people continue to politicize masks.
All that anger doesn't have anywhere to go, this is most likely the cause of today's blues.
Don’t Look Away
Tonight I head to bed grateful that more journalists after paying attention you what is happening here.
I was up until nearly 2am, unable to wind down.
I've had memories of protesting in the 90s brought up. So many memories of my terrible family. I was seen in TV in a news clip and took so much heat.
I'm grateful for a soccer game victory dance with Bertie
Lies from Invaders
The head of the Department of Homeland Security arrived uninvited in my city today. He says my city is under siege from anarchists.
He lies.
Local police continue to lie.
Federal cops are grabbing protestors off the street.
I’m so angry. I’m so afraid for my city. I the police defunded and demilitarized. I want the Feds out.
COVID dog checkup today. Sitting out in the car, waiting to hear.
How are people without cars supposed to do this?
The dogs are in excellent health. Bertie is an especially healthy English Bulldog, a poster dog. He let me stick borage flowers on his face. I’m so grateful.
Goodbye Yoga Props
When I got my teaching certificate I had a dream of becoming a "yoga studio on demand". I could show up anywhere within driving distance and set up a class with props for 10.
After leaving tech I expanded my inventory. I made a capital investment to purchase bolsters, two types, and more straps. More I could offer Restorative Yoga anywhere.
For a while it was great. I rented dance studios and made them yoga studios for small classes. When those dwindled to the point I was paying to put them on and no one would show up, I stopped.
They props lived in the van, four large Rubbermaid cases and one big suitcase to hold them all, until we needed it. Then they moved to the garage.
Now there's COVID. I won't be teaching in person anywhere for a long time. The props were taking up space now.
Today I sold them a huge discount to the Om Thrive Foundation. The Foundation supports survivors of domestic violence and was created by an amazing Black woman, Day Bibb. The bolsters, blocks, and blankets will be packaged up to be delivered to participants in the program.
I was so happy dropping them off today that I nearly cried.
Getting straps, which can be triggering to domestic abuse survivors (I absolute get this), to students and friends. Ditto for mats.
In Which Everything Feels Catastrophic
I was going to write about how grounding teaching was today against the news that local police spent the night escalating violence. Again.
I was going to expand on the unintended art of a melted canister reflecting back how yesterday made me feel.
Then there was a small explosion in the neighborhood. The boom woke up CK. I saw the flash of it while working on my art journal. I investigated outside a little, but w we were left with the belief that some asshole must have set off a firework.
Until I came upstairs just before midnight to a terrible whine. I tensed at it and went through the house turning off fans, trying to trace it. As i got to the bathroom I saw flashing, amber lights.
Upon going outside with CK’s halal on I discovered power company workers with a bucket truck. I was able to discover the earlier explosion was a fuse going out, the part of the neighborhood across the street were without power!
This all woke up CK for the third time tonight. We’re both pretty wired, her brain got really worried hearing me leave the house with male voices and noise.
I’m struck at how quickly our brains expect the worse. 2020 keeps providing catastrophes, another seems plausible. I was expecting to find a car accident. I’m rather grateful to be wrong AND the explosion has been explained!
Taxes, Cops, and COVID
We've been trying to get caught up on our taxes and at the end of last year we'd got 2016 filled and paid.
Or so we thought.
Several years ago we both experienced identify theft around taxes. As a result, we have PINs issued each year and getting behind has meant they expired and we had to send in a paper copy.
Later this winter we received a letter stating we had to verify our identification before they can accept the paper copy. Then COVID happened and the offices closed up.
I’ve been trying off and on for a while. This morning I tired again.
I eventually got to someone after getting disconnected repeatedly on the number the letter said to call. I’d tired another number on a different letter saying we now have a credit.
I was ultimately told to try the number that says it’s having technical difficulties and disconnecting me. That our make an appointment to go in person in an office located in the Federal Building.
If it’s open. I should risk COVID exposure to enter a building that’s currently boarded up and surrounded by both federal and local cops dressed in riot gear.
I got a lot upset. Thankfully CK came upstairs to give me hugs and support.
There was freshly harvested salad for dinner, so that was good. I’m really grateful for the last two things.
Koans and Other Tools
I had a lot of moments of just staring off at nothing today.
I read something about American passports, which once were a guarantee of access, are nearly useless now. We're a plague state. I felt trapped here and was grateful when I shared this fear with CK that sure took me seriously.
I'm grateful for all the times she takes me seriously. I have been told so often that I'm overreacting or being too dramatic. All that was gaslighting, but I'm still so grateful when I'm not dismissed.
The federal cops are in Portland because the President sent them. Local cops hasn't already sufficiently brutalized there population.
I thought about the koan about chopping wood and carrying water. Before and after enlightenment, same thing.
Chop wood, carry water.
Making meals, folding laundry, pulling weeds, washing dishes. Just do the tasks that need doing.