What would you do…JUST TO FEEL GOOD?

This is a question that started rambling around for me in 2004. I was living in New York and my life’s partner had just died at age 47 from a heart attack. In what seemed like an extreme gesture of self-care at the time, I joined the brand new Equinox gym—an expensive, inspiring facility where beautiful people trained with celebrity fitness gurus. Those who know me will tell you this is NOT my usual scene, but I was desperately sad and craving beauty, strength, and inspiration. My first class was with one of the aforementioned gurus. The description read, “IntenSati—exercise to build physical, mental, and spiritual muscle.” Sign me up.

Patricia Moreno’s philosophy involves intention—using affirmations and personal mantras—combined with action, so that one feels the synergy of claiming something verbally while pursuing it actively in the moment with the body. And by the way—it’s an ass-kicking workout. I was about 20 minutes into my first class, chanting “All I have is within me now,” sweating profusely and struggling with some type of lunge or squat, when she turned to look at the class. I felt her looking right at me as she asked, “Can you be here in this moment? Can you stay with the pain, choose to be here now, choose to do whatever it take just to feel good?”

I cannot describe the feeling this invitation gave me. When one is deep in grief, the very last thing one wants to do is “be here now.” But here she was inviting me to stay with the pain, work it, and move through it JUST TO FEEL GOOD. I wept through the remainder of the class and over the next few months I returned on Saturday mornings. For that hour and a half each week, I was present for all of it. In every muscle ache and stretch, every look into the mirror, and every breath, I was proving to myself that I could live, I could be strong, and I could feel good.

It has been six years. And because grieving and healing rarely happen in a linear fashion, there have been long periods of me being unable to be present, of wallowing and hiding in food and alcohol, and ignoring the needs of my body. There have also been periods of celebration and new relationships that have healed my heart. Over the years, the question of what makes me feel good has changed and evolved. It is a very different thing to ask oneself this question when NOT in a crisis, and I find that doing so now has activated some old feelings around how much goodness I deserve.

Undoubtedly rooted in the “there are starving children somewhere” tactics of making children eat brussel sprouts, I developed a kind of zero-sum belief regarding getting one’s needs met. In other words, there’s only so much “need-getting” to go around, and if I ask for more than my share someone else might not get theirs. Worse yet, it could mean that I am selfish, narcissistic, or undeserving. But what if I’m wrong about this? What if the airline attendants have it right, and we need to strap on our own oxygen mask before attending to the needs of others?

For now, I’m going with the airline attendants. I’m strapping on my own mask and seeing what happens. It’s scary and I have way more questions than answers at this point but I suppose that is how most journeys begin. I have some sense that if I can muster what I am now referring to as the 3 c’s – curiosity, compassion and courage – the answers may be just as interesting as they are scary.

One of the scariest things is putting this in writing – on a blog post no less. But I believe that sharing this is part of my process—putting it out there and risking what comes back. Risking that what I have to say might not be interesting, well written, or relevant, but risking also that my story is enough, and that I have the same divine right to speak it as anyone else has a right to speak theirs.

And so it begins… I look forward to sharing some of my journey with you, and to your comments about your own efforts JUST TO FEEL GOOD.

--Stacey for the PGM

What I Don't Do

Those who know me, know that I keep pretty busy. I work full time, am the mother of two, read and write, and carry on a full life of friendships and community activities. I frequently get asked, “How do you find time to write? I can’t believe all that you have written.” Every time I get asked that question, I feel like I have to defend myself. When do I write? Where do I find the time?

Of course, the short answer to the question is that I don’t write as much as people think I do. In fact, compared to people who actually publish their work, I write zilch. When was the last time you saw my novel on the shelf at Barnes and Noble? But I do read a bit and manage to squeeze out a blog post or two every week. I write letters and poems and participate actively in WWfaC.

With anything one chooses to do, one chooses to do that thing over other things. Even if we are not aware of it, we are constantly prioritizing. If I am reading or writing, I must not be doing dozens of other things. Here is a short list of what I don’t do:

• I don’t iron. Hate ironing. Once, when I deigned to iron, my 10 year old son stared at the funny device in my hand and asked what it was. He had never seen an iron before.
• I don’t clean. Between my husband and I we manage to load and unload the dishwasher, do laundry and take out the trash. Everything else I let go of or ask my housekeeper to do. She comes on Monday. If you come to my house on Sunday—you’ll understand.
• I don’t have an elaborate morning routine. I shower and moisturize and get dressed. Makeup, hairstyling and accessorizing are for a different woman.
• I don’t shop. Yes, I buy groceries and cook dinner, but I don’t go to the mall and I don’t shop for clothes. I don’t spend hours picking out greeting cards. I don’t go to hobby stores.
• I don’t craft, sew or keep scrapbooks. I appreciate my friends who do those things. I sometimes dabble, but for the most part, my craft supplies and sewing machine collect dust.
• I don’t watch TV. Well, I watch TV selectively, which means generally, first run shows that I am interested in. I usually follow two or three a season: the ones that rise to the top of the critics’ lists. I don’t let the TV run and watch all the time.
• I don’t rake, mulch, mow, plant, prune, or shovel. That’s one of those things I would do if I had a yard conducive to gardening, but I live among the trees, so I let my husband and son do the little mowing we have. Everything else goes wild.
• I order pizza a lot.
• I don’t sleep a lot. Six hours is about as high as I go. Sometimes I can go as long as seven, but that is rare. I never nap.

So writing and reading are my priorities. I enjoy those activities. You might prefer having a clean house or an ironed skirt. When my kids go to bed and I have a free hour, I rarely scrub my kitchen floor. I would love to know what activities readers prioritize. What don’t you do in order to get your writing done?

--Amy for the PGM