Practice Makes Progress
Opening up and staying that way
Over labor day weekend I said goodbye to my apartment, my neighborhood, my borough, New York City. I wrote some reflections in Lily’s Rx when I hit 10 years in NYC; I crossed the 12 year mark as I crossed the border to New Jersey headed west in a Ford pickup truck, driven by my dad, with almost everything I own stuffed in the back (turns out, after 12 years I didn’t really collect all that much - though I still can’t seem to get rid of some tshirts I’ve had since high school). We kept going, headed to my other home, Cleveland.
In total it took about 8 hours to load, leave, unload, and settle my life back into my mother’s home. Well, the settling is still in process.
This is a very matter-of-fact way to tell the story. There are 360 degrees of perspective for every situation; I could tell it happily, sadly, sprinkled with nostalgia, resigned - hopeless, fearfully, tearily. I could tell you the decisions that got me here, I could tell you my future vision, I could tell you all the worriews and setbacks, I could tell you all the wins and the joyful days.
Today I choose to spin this story as an example of returning to love when it feels far away.
Though I’m ‘home’ in my home that’s not my home, I’m not ~actually~ settled at all. Not settled in a house, not settled in a city, not settled in my desires, my thoughts that keep the to-do list endless. That’s how I was feeling upon my departure from New York.
A few weeks of feeling isolated, worried, wired, tired, unproductive — all of these ~feelings~ being the symptoms of a more primal emotion. You in the back, did you say ‘fear’? You got it. The opposite of love (remember?).
Fear of making the wrong choice. Fear clogging my brain with woes that don’t exist. Fear beating at the windshield of my my good judgement and faith in myself so I can’t see clearly.
It isolates, stealing you away from the places you can find love. Talks you out of talking to friends and family, of taking care of your body, protecting your brain your chosen way of doing so. From feeling through the hard stuff because deep down we know it’s good for us.
So what is the antidote, then, to staving off all this mental poison?
It’s digging through the mud and finding our life source. It’s coming back to our natural self. It’s cultivating a wholly undeniable relationship with the love that sits within us.
In a podcast I listened to recently Dr. Phil Stutz (I’m paraphrasing, but I’m close) referred to universal love as the sunlight behind the clouds. It’s always there, even when we can’t see it.
Things in life come up that cloud our view. That make us scared, hurt, angry, but the love is there, waiting for us.
In the midst of my mental tailspin following my exit from New York, some cloud cover certainly came through. A few turbulent storms. But there were still glimmers of light. People who ground me and make me feel safe. Physical sunlight that eases my mind. Little reminders everywhere, if I was looking for them, that everything’s going to be ok.
And I repeat that over & over until the clouds go away.
It’s going to be ok. Because I am ok. And I’m ok because I say so; because I am love.
When I am at peace, when I’ve scattered the clouds, I remember something important: no matter what happens around me, I always have the choice to emulate a love within me. I’m the source of my happiness, my love. I’m in control of my own tap. And it’s limitless - never at risk of running out.
I spoke to my father during our long car ride - from one home to another - about beliefs, falling back on beliefs that keep people going when they feel afraid. We mutually agreed that the only way to establish a habit, and maintain a belief, is to practice. Practice the mental switch. Practice looking for good things, practice the internal dialogue to talk yourself out of defensiveness.
So I’m in practice mode with love. Especially when the scary stuff can be super loud. Practicing anyway.
The move? That was big scary practice. Trusting in step 1 towards what I want. I don’t have clarity on steps 2,3,4,5,6 after this one just yet, but I’m trying to honor the ‘one step at a time’ rule.
Giving yourself grace is an act of love. Another practice. The move made me feel funky - instead of demonizing that, or using it to tear myself down, I just sit with it; honor it. People say it ain’t easy. I haven’t had to move in six years, and I chose to disregard the real toll it can take. When I let that sink in, I treat my circumstances with more tender love & care.
Other recommended prescriptions to clear the plaque and gunk off of your heart and let it shine big n’ bright:
Gratitude actually works the way people say it does. So does community, connection with the people who love you. Vitamin D? You bet that works. Putting your phone down? You got it. I don’t need to tell you what to do in order to fine tune your radar back to love, you already know. It’s easy but making the choice is hard.
It also helps to fall in love. With a person, with an experience, with a goal, with a scent, a scene, a song. With yourself. Falling back in love with ourselves expands the output we bring to the rest of the world. Shouldn’t take it lightly!
I’m going to keep taking hard steps into uncertainty, because I love myself. That’s my practice on perspective shift.
I wish you all a loving journey, taking baby steps, on your way back to finding yourselves, if you haven’t already.